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art--harridan · 2 years

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[Image one: The first page of a digital comic about TommyInnit. It begins with a panel of Wilbur’s hand placing a card on the table, and then one of Tommy with his head in his arms, drenched in blood. He asks "what're you up to now?", to which Wilbur replies "seven of hearts. it's a card game... obviously." After this, Tommy says "hilarious. how do you play?". This is followed by an image of Wilbur sitting at the table, blood leaking from his smiling mouth. He's holding a card in one hand, and resting his chin on the other. He casts a shadow on the table, which has "it's like a game of life:" written in it, followed by three hearts. Below the shadow, he explains "you start with 500 points and 7 cards and whatever cards you have at the end... well, you lose accordingly."

Image two: The second page of a digital comic about TommyInnit and Wilbur Soot in limbo. Tommy lifts his head up and squints his eyes, asking "accordingly?? you sure you won't just make it up big dubs?". Underneath, there's a panel of Wilbur, grinning while he shrugs nonchalantly. He says "I'm a man of morals Tommy! And there's a precedent for these things:". Smoke billows behind this panel. Below this, Wilbur continues with "the 7 and ace of hearts subtract 150,", which is accompanied by two card-shaped panels depicting Dream and Tommy. They're both devoid of emotion. Next, Wilbur says "jacks take 50,", followed by the Cat disc and the Your Tubbo compass. Then, he says "8s and 2s deduct 25,", followed by a bloody diamond sword and a lit TNT stick. He continues "aces get 15,", which is next to a L'manberg flag, Tommy's red tie, and the tent from Logsteadshire. Finally, he says "the kings, queens and 10s take 10, and the leftovers are 5; nothing really (unless you're on death's door)." Above this, there's Mexican Dream's mask, Jack's melted glasses, and some of Ghostbur's blue.

Image three: The third page of a digital comic about TommyInnit and Wilbur Soot in limbo. Tommy says "Great - now I know how to lose. How exactly do I win?". The first line is above a panel showing a bloody prison wall, while the second is above a panel of Tommy carrying a L'manberg flag past some pine trees. Drawn on top of this is Tommy, annoyed. Wilbur tells him "you get rid of your hand before anyone else." Near this is a panel of Wilbur dirty hand holding a lit TNT stick, an explosion behind the panel. Next, Tommy questions "how exactly?", his face falling flat while Wilbur explains. He says "there's a card in the middle, and you take turns adding one.". There's a single card next to this. Finally, he adds "you can only put down the same suit or number as the previous number".

Image four: The fourth page of a digital comic about TommyInnit and Wilbur Soot in limbo. "Jacks change the suit." it begins, followed by "They can be the crux of your play, and ruin another's.". There's 4 card-shaped panels in the middle, positioned in a diagonal line. They each show Tommy in different stages of his life. The first shows him in Business Bay, his suit, tie, and sunglasses on. He's got a big grin and his arms stretched wide. Next, he's wearing his L'manberg uniform, with a slightly smaller smile. After is him in Pogtopia, smile turning to a grimace. Finally, there's him while living with Techno, mouth fully closed and barely a smile. He looks nervous. The panels are framed by two arrows. One is descending, a L'manberg coloured arrow that looks worse for wear. It has a green ribbon tied around it. The other one shares a colour palette with Dream, and has a bloody tip.

Image six: The sixth page of a digital comic about TommyInnit and Wilbur Soot in limbo. The first sentence is "twos force the person after to pick up 2". Then, there's Wilbur’s hands with four cards between them, seemingly in the midst of dropping them to his bottom palm. The first card has an explosion flying out of it, background the colour of fire. Next, there's a card which has an obsidian/blackstone wall, a bloody diamond sword laying on top of it. The third card shows a bloody arrow floating in water, while the fourth is simply a rectangle of fire. Then, there's a panel of Tommy weeping hard at the bottom, with the sentence "you can stack them until some unlucky bastard picks up 8 cards" accompanying it.

Image eight: The eighth page of a digital comic about TommyInnit and Wilbur Soot in limbo. "but why is it called seven of hearts?" Tommy asks, arms crossed. Wilbur puts a finger near his chin and replies "It's simple really... if someone plays the seven of hearts, the round stops.". Furthere down, there's a panel showing Tommy reaching towards Wilbur back. The next panel is similar, but it only shows a diamond sword in the place of Wilbur, and Tommy's hand is pulling back. These are accompanied by the sentences "there's no negotiation, no getting out of that one. it just stops.". Finally, there's two panels showing the pair's reactions. Tommy looks withdrawn while Wil is smiling, shrugging nonchalantly. "that's bullshit." Tommy says, while Wilbur retorts "that's how you win...". This is followed by a lit TNT stick, and Wilbur continuing "(or not).".

Image nine: The ninth page of a digital comic about TommyInnit and Wilbur Soot in limbo. There's a split panel of them, Tommy bored and resting his chin on his fist, while Wil looks giddy, leaning to the side. Tommy questions "lovely - any more stupid rules I need to know?", with Wilbur responding "yeah, but they'll make more sense during play. I'll teach you them as we go.". Underneath this, he continues "c'mon then - let's play:". There's panel of Wilbur and Tommy both sitting at a long table in a dark void, cards set out. You can't see either of their faces. Further down, Wilbur turns over a card while saying "first you turn over the card in the middle". The final panel shows that this card is the seven of hearts.

Image ten: The final page of a digital comic about TommyInnit and Wilbur Soot in limbo. There's a closeup of Wilbur’s mouth while he dejectedly tells Tommy "oh. game over.". Below this, there's a panel of a panicking Tommy who's just abruptly stood up from his seat, shoulders bunched up and expression shocked. "no, no, that doesn't make sense." he says. "that isn't fair! this isn't fair!" he continues, near two panels showing his death. One depicts Dream's bloody fist, while the other his bloody corpse. Next to this, he further continues "I didn't even get to play!". Finally, there's a long panel at the bottom. Tommy stands alone in the darkness of limbo, bright with blood and face expressionless. He repeats "I didnt even get to play...", and the comic ends.]

seven of hearts

#☆#tommyinnit #wilbur soot #dream smp #tommyinnit fanart #wilbur soot fanart #dream smp fanart #digital art #tommys prison arc #exile arc #blood #gore #abuse #death #suicide #corpse #a sequel of sorts to my b brag comic :3 #ive always wanted to do more limbo card games comic since i did that one but i never got around to it lol #seven of hearts is my fave card game tho!!! love it sm <3 (b brag is a close second...)#b4 anyone asks this game is similar to crazy jacks which is the game that inspired uno #anyway if this flops im gonna rb it sm so be prepared for that :')#block my rb tag if u dont wanna see the same comic a billion times a week lol 👍#oh yeah some clarity for the sake of my brain #this isnt glorifying wilburs suicide attempt as a 'way to win' since the whole explanation is done thru wils lens #ergo it reflects his feelings on it but not mine 👍#also the vibe for this and the b brag comic were basically like #wilbur is estatic to see his bro and honestly just another person so he tries to teach him card games for fun #and also partakes in brotherely ribbing because they always used to do that #meanwhile tommy literally just died and his brains are falling out of his skull (tho this is somewhere a month or two later)#btw if anyone wants clarification on the rules (also to know what the ones he doesnt mention are) feel free to ask! inbox or messages :)

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mysticalsoot · 6 months

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someone to live with

part 2 to someone to (not) die with

➸ note; i know i said id post this at 8- but I was watching heartland with my mom and like.. sobbed like a baby anyways, hope you enjoy!!

➸ pairing; revivebur x gn!reader // c!wilbur x gn!reader

➸ summary; after wilbur's death and a too long to think, you ask your sister to help you. she does but maybe her methods work a bit too well.

➸ warning; slight hurt/big comfort, suicide mentions, kissing, easily forgiving reader, ghostbur goes to a happy limbo, probably swearing

➸ age-rating; 15+

➸ wordcount; 3.1k

main masterlist // part 1

wilbur's funeral was quicker than most, and not many people showed up. if anything, it was mostly you and his father and brothers. Niki came by, your sister Grace did too. but in all honesty, not many people bothered to pay their respects.

you also kept it quiet, taking a few days before the funeral to really let everything sink in, to let the fact he left the bouquet you gave him on the spot he wanted to be buried. it was just by the hill he used to sit on, the one he took you to and told you all about his dreams for the future. for lmanburg and for the future you both hoped to share.

you wouldn't be sharing that future now.

despite that; the time since wilbur's death went by slowly, and was utterly agonizing. your home felt colder, although it could've been winter slowly creeping up, you chalked it up to the lack of your partner. or maybe it was his ghost that wandered your halls that emanated that cold. or maybe he just contributed to it. whatever it was, you found yourself spending more time out in the snow sitting by his grave than sitting by the fire in your living room.

you'd talk to him, or rather the corpse of his that was buried a few feet down in a hand built coffin that his older brother forged through anger. Techno wasn't known for tears.

but you were. you wouldn't be surprised if your tears eventually froze over whenever you spoke to his grave, as the days were getting colder and the chill of the wind started to burn your cheeks.

ghostbur was nice, you thought. a nice distraction. he was kind and sweet and he was all the good of Wilbur and more. he wasn't Wilbur, he made that clear, but you knew that the moment you met him. he caught you on a less than good day, wandering around your house, mindlessly walking the halls and dissociating to the point you weren't sure what was going on or where you were.

but he came knocking on your doorstep, friend behind him. you took him in, since he had nowhere else to go. you helped him stable up friend, put him in the pen and set him up in the fields while you brought ghost in and helped him warm up. you kept him away from the snow and cold, helping him become afloat again. he stayed back with you, keeping an eye on you and giving you blue any time he could. he loved spending time with you, caring for you.

he was a good friend, and he hoped that's what he always would be.

no matter how many times you'd tell him how wonderful of a friend he was, he wouldn't believe it. even when you brought up the time he saved you a week after he walked into your life. you were so close to ending it all, jumping off the edge and joining your wilbur. but he stopped you, he managed to talk you down and he held you and promised to protect you, and that he did. he protected you, he cared for you and even if your relationship was platonic at best, he was a wonderful partner.

meanwhile, wilbur was pent up in limbo. pacing the platform, listening to the sounds of the train passing by not once stopping for him. he was going crazy, mind you he already was, but this was a whole new level.

there wasn't much to do up there, time passed so much more slowly. there weren't any books to busy him with, all he could do was sit and listen to the screeching and taunting of the train. the sounds drove him mad, a constant reminder of what he can never reach, what he can't get back. what he destroyed with his selfish ways.

he nearly ripped his hair out, with the way regret and stress was eating at his dead form. he was tired, lost and he couldn't get it out of his mind what mistakes he'd made. the long list of things he'd ruined with his own presence.

sometimes he'd wonder if it's better that he's dead. maybe he shouldn't bother with troubling thoughts of how to get back. you must be thriving, he hopes you're thriving.

you weren't. it's crawling up to the two month anniversary, and to say the least, you were losing it. you were good at pretending, pretending that you were okay and healing but in reality; you weren't. you were staying up at night, clinging to his old trench coat and shutting your eyes in hopes you could pretend he was there and would materialize into his coat at any moment. it felt stupid to do this, but it kept you from being pushed onto the ledge.

"Grace?" you whisper, holding your cup of tea close to your chest, sitting behind her counter at her flower shop. your sister was always a safe place for you, especially when you couldn't sift through your thoughts on your own. she helped.

"mm?" she hums, turning to face you with a smile before returning to the flowers she was working on. a small winter themed display for the Christmas festival she was preparing for. as for every other shop owner in L'manburg.

"have you.. have you learnt anything about revival?" you managed to mumble out, eyes casted down on the floor as you set aside your tea.

"I've done some research," you didn't catch the way she froze for a moment, as if she was buffering. and you especially didn't know that her research pertained to reviving the same person you wished to.

"how much?"

"enough." she sighs out, tying a ribbon around the bunch of stems, placing the bouquet on display before cleaning up her workstation.

"how hard is it? to revive someone, I mean." you bit your lip, nearly drawing blood before you quit, looking away again but this time outside the front windows.

"is this about wilbur?"

she didn't need to ask, she already knew. it's always about wilbur. you fidget with your fingers, wringing your hands together as you shrug, "maybe."

"if.. and I mean, if. if you revive him, he may not be the same," Grace frowns, walking over to you and bringing you into a hug. for a younger sister, she acted like an older, doting sister occasionally.

"at least I'll have him back, y'know?" you shrug again, raising your shoulders before dropping them in defeat, leaning deeper into her hug.

"I'll help," she draws in a breath, calculating her next words as she steps back to look at you, "if you promise to not blame anyone but him if he comes back an ass, okay?" she cracks a smile, chuckling softly at her own words as your own lips curl up and you roll your eyes.

"fine-" you pause, mind reeling as you remember ghostbur. how could you hurt him?

"what will happen to ghostbur?"

Grace shrugs, pulling away and turning to grab some more flowers to put together, "he'll be sent to limbo."

"so he'll die?" regret bubbles up in your throat like bile, and your eyes widen at the thought.

"no, no," she starts before stopping, biting her bottom lip, "he'll go to his own limbo."

"is that good?"

her shoulders lift, mouth curled in a frown and uncertainty paints on her face, "in theory, yes. I'm sure he'll be fine. it's- he'll be okay."

"if.. if getting back wil hurts ghost- i- I can't do that to him, Grace," your lips curl downwards and you step into the main area of the shop, grabbing some baby's breath and setting it on the counter by your sister.

"it won't hurt him. i promise," she rests her hand on yours, shooting you a soft and sympathetic gaze.

you take in a breath and nod, "okay, when can we start?"

you were sure that the rivival process was long and tedious, and maybe it was but-- grace liked to work alone. she'd update you when you showed up at her shop every morning, reassuring you that everything was fine.

it was a few days before ghostbur disappeared, which grace warned you about. you just hoped he was okay. despite the lack of the beloved ghost, you still hadn't found wilbur, and Grace was becoming more suspicious.

she avoided your questions, choosing short answers and it seemed like she was pulling herself at both ends, spreading herself thin. you were worried but Tom didn't know anything, and Grace wasn't letting you in on it anytime soon.

"why can't I see them, grace?" wilbur pried, sitting on the bench in the back of Grace's shop.

"I don't trust you yet. you haven't proved to me that you won't hurt them," she toyed with the ribbon she held, melting the ends to keep it from freying.

"you've threatened me enough, I think that's plenty of reason-"

"no, wilbur, you killed yourself and left them off on their own. threatening isn't enough for you to get it through your head that your fucking existence could hurt them! sometimes that's all you do," she scoffs, placing down the ribbon and picking up the next one, sealing the ends again. she takes a moment, listening to the silence of the room, the silence that's fallen on wilbur. she rolls her eyes, huffing before she continues, "I'm sorry, okay? but I've had to watch my sibling suffer because of your decisions, and they suffered longer than you've been dead," she pauses, shutting her eyes and taking a breath before continuing, "I'm not trying to be hard on you, I promise but- just, please understand, wil."

"I know, I know I've hurt them but I promise, I can make it better. weren't they the one that asked to revive me?" he counters, standing up and making his way to stand beside grace, towering over her and resting his hand on her shoulder.

"yes, they were but- I warned them and I just don't want them hurt."

"I won't hurt them," he starts, resting his hands on both her shoulders, "I promise."

she pulls back, "fine, but remember the second I catch wind that you've hurt them, say goodbye to living. and your reproductive organs."

"I think killing me is good enough," he laughs softly, pulling grace into a hug and mumbling, "thank you, so much,"

"yeah, sure."

"I'll see you later, yeah?" wilbur's lips curl into a smile as he practically bounces towards the door. he hurries out of the flower shop, determination taking over and hope filling his veins.

all the while you're out by his grave, again. maybe you should build something in honor of ghostbur, you think. he's not here anymore, hopefully in a better place so surely you should do something to honor his memory. just like you did with wilbur. like you always did.

you sifted your fingers through the grass, tugging at it gently, trying not to fully rip it but just mess with it. your mind runs miles an hour, wandering through thoughts and feelings that haven't quite healed yet.

moss has begun to grow on his headstone, flowers grace planted around it now blooming up around the stone. it's heavily weathered, the words.

'wilbur soot. beloved son, friend, partner, brother and president. 1996-2020.'

they're painted on and the snow and sleet has worn it down, its barely visible. the words ghost on the stone. but you have it memorized, by reading it over before you had it made, and then reading it over and over again for hours every day since his death. like a mantra, even if it has no purpose other than to hurt you.

you'd been sitting there for who knows how long, your fingers felt like icicles but you barely noticed the pricking cold. you weren't sure what you were hoping for, praying for by sitting alone but it was something.

the sound of fabric waving in the wind, and footsteps crunching on the grass, and then the scent hits you; cigarettes and cologne. mixed together and hitting your nose sharply. you bite your lip, letting your breath catch in your throat, not bothering to look behind you.

"wilbur?" you mumble, and then you hear his smile form, a little puff of air let out with it.

"hello, my love," he stands beside you, waiting for you to invite him to sit with you. you glance up at him, mouth slightly agape.

"you're alive."

"yeah, I am. thank god grace let me go. finally-" he chuckles, and for the first time in a while, you smile. a genuine smile.

"what? she kept you cooped up?" you pat the spot beside you, keeping your eyes up on you.

"yes, she did. and she threatened my livelihood," he follows your guide, sitting beside you and letting his legs stretch out before him. you finally catch a glance at the discoloration on his face, the bruises and patches of skin too pale or too tan.

"oh? so she threatened to neuter you?" you meet his eyes finally, smile soft but clear on your face.

"that's her favorite threat," he chuckles softly, fingers twitching as if he was going to reach for you. he takes a sharp breath, looking forward and out on the horizon over the hill. he takes a moment before pulling something out of his trench coat pocket, but you stop him short.

"you grabbed the coat?" you frown, fingers reaching out to play with the fabric, rubbing it between your fingertips. you glance up at him and he finally reaches forward, hand on your cheek and thumb rubbing your skin.

"it wasn't the only thing I grabbed," he sucks in a breath, pulling his hand away and taking out two rings, the rings he left for you, "i found them, on the mantle and i- I wanted to do what I didn't before."

"so you've been in our house?"

"is that what you take from this?" he chuckles, leaning forward and kissing your forehead. to his surprise, you don't flinch away but rather lean into it and sigh.

"maybe, but- are you.."

"proposing? if you're okay with it," he starts, pulling the rings off the string and putting his hand out for yours. you nod and give him your hand. he slips the ring on and begins again, "will you marry me?"

"mmm.. I don't know- will I?" you crack a smile before chuckling softly, "yes, yes I will. idiot."

he pulls you into a hug, your right leg tossed over his lap as you both pull one another closer. and then you pull back and reach your hand out, palm up.

"what?"

"the ring, it's only fair."

"oh?" wilbur smiles, handing you the wedding band he intended on wearing. you slip it on his ring finger before kissing each of his finger tips.

"I missed you,"

"I missed you too," he leans closer, resting his hand on your cheek again and stroking the skin.

"mm, I'm sure you've had plenty of time to miss me," the corner of your mouth twitches upwards into a smirk. you stand up, reaching your hand down for him to take as you help him up to stand. he rests his hands on your hips, squeezing gently before leaving a kiss on your cheek.

"too much time," he mumbles, holding you close and hugging you, "I'm sorry, for all I've done. I know that no words can account for all that I've put you through but I- I hope you can find a way to put up with me."

"don't worry, I forgave you a while ago. you were stupid but, dream is dead and it's because of what you pulled. we have you to thank for that."

"I'm still sorry," he winces, and you grab his hand, leading him back to the cabin as you shrug.

"I know, and you're going to have to do a lot more than say sorry for other people. but for me, you're lucky I missed you so much. otherwise, I probably wouldn't have asked to have you revived."

"I know but-" you shoot him a warning look, silently telling him to shut his trap before he starts whining again, "okay, okay, I get it."

"good, now- let's go enjoy ourselves yeah? get you a shower and go to bed. because, love you, darling but you reek." you chuckle, tugging him by his hand up the stairs of your porch, hurrying in and shutting the door behind you.

he pulls you to him by your hips, swaying you gently before he leans down to pull you into a kiss, lips licking together in a way they haven't in over six months, you think. much longer than he's been dead.

you reach your arms up, wrapping them around his neck as you both tug one another together, your bodies now pressed up. the warmth he spreads wraps around you and you've never felt more at home.

the kiss doesn't end until you both have to gasp for air, and you drop your head to press against his chest. he rubs your back with his hands, gentle circles spun over your shirt.

"do I really reek?" he croons, looking up at the ceiling as your fingers grasp at his shirt.

"yes you do,"

he attempts to get out of it, poking out a gentle pout and you pull back. folding your arms over your chest as you shake your head, smirking at the way he tries to beg like a puppy.

"wilbur- you do realize I was going to make brownies while you showered, right?" you knew the moment you mentioned baked goods, he'd do whatever you asked. he'd do whatever you asked anyway, but a little bribe never hurt anyone.

"wait really?" his eyes light up and his pout falls off and is replaced with an excited grin. you nod and he lunges down to press thankful kisses all over your face, giggling happily as he holds you by your sides, fingers curling over your waist.

"yes- god, you only love me for my baking?"

"no, but it is a plus," he pulls back, placing a quick peck to your lips before sprinting up the stairs for him to shower. you shake your head, smile clear as day on your lips as you venture into the kitchen to begin baking.

despite everything, the pain and turmoil and living without him, you're glad you asked to have him revived, even if it meant some sacrifice. yet the more you think of it, you're gonna have to thank grace for holding your fiance hostage tomorrow.

taglist; @lcvejoy @lillylvjy @ella-fella-bo-bella @lotusanonymouse @willgoldszn @whos-nicooo @zebonos

honorable tags (asked for part 2); @babybabygrogu @tacomumun3r

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anarchy-and-piglins · 8 months

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More DSMP Techno thoughts.

Technoblade is literally one of the most generous people on the server. Like, in fic, Niki is always the one most characterized as generous (which is still accurate), but Technoblade is GENUINELY the most generous. From Netherite Armor, to helping Connor even though he had no reason to. To going to see Dream, even knowing it was a trap because he needed to make sure he wasn't dead. His whole rational behind his Anarchism is that People over Government. Helping others until they can stand on their own. Literally the most generous on the server.

Techno's generosity is such an endearing trait of his not to mention very important in analysing him as a character since it actually ties into a lot of other aspects about him I really adore.

Firstly, there's his planning and how he never wants to be caught off guard (sometimes to the point of paranoia). Technoblade is a great fighter and some of that is his impressive raw skill - as demonstrated when fighting Quackity in the tunnel post failed execution with low gear - but he's also an amazing tactician and strategist and he knows coming prepared is half the battle (as Sun Tzu's teachings also invoke). cc!Techno found this important enough to highlight when he went over dsmp lore, how he hated it when people boiled down c!Techno to being a good fighter because he's just 'that cracked' and not because he spends so much time and effort on preparation. Techno gives very freely to his allies during Pogtopia and to those he considers on his side, because it's the smart thing to do. Being generous there is simply clever battle tactics.

Then later on we see his generosity become extremely relevant as Techno digs more into the theoretics of anarchism and how to effectively spread it on the server (cc!Techno did the research and by extension c!Techno shows the growth and changing perspective). Mutual aid is one of the main pillars of most anarchistic beliefs, with the idea that goods should be shared among people so everybody can be self-sufficient and there's no dependency on government. This also means no hoarding of resources and giving without expecting anything in return. We see this come to fruition in the Arctic commune and among the syndicate too, where people definitely own things but there's little care for going into other people's chests and taking stuff when needed. Sometimes even without asking (though often with asking because it's the polite thing to do). Techno does not seem to view his own actions as generosity but rather as self-evident.

Lastly, there's of course the fact that Gift Giving very much seems to be Techno's main love language. He clearly values gifts he gets from others, including those that have no practicality or 'worth' (ie the blue from Ghostbur he refuses to throw away). Getting the ax from Ranboo was one of the more significant shows of care and consideration anybody on the dsmp had ever given Techno and he was clearly touched by it, plus it's a turning point in their relationship. And he's prone to giving his loved ones gifts too. Tying in with the first point and with the fact that Techno is very protective of his friends, a lot of his gifts do serve a very practical use of being the kind of things that will keep them safe (armor, weapons, supplies,...). I think that's very telling for who Techno is as a person.

A last thing I want to touch on is that Techno's generosity is nicely contrasted with his disdain for people taking advantage of him (falls in the category of betrayal and 'using him' that Techno is particularly wary of). When Tommy took his gapples without asking repeatedly even while Techno told him to stop, Techno was clearly very annoyed. It was not the taking itself that bothered him as much, but the fact that Tommy refused to respect a clear boundary.

Funnily enough, he also got annoyed that one time somebody yoinked his foxes, though he was not annoyed somebody took them or even that they took them without asking.... he was annoyed because the person that took his foxes took the ones he could use to breed more. He even remarked that if they had yoinked a baby and an adult - leaving Techno with two breedable adults himself - he would not have cared. He specifically got upset because they took the foxes from him in a way that created a scarcity of resources. This is also very mutual aid/anarchy aligned and that amuses me.

#technoblade #thoughts #this got so long LMAO lenn i'm sorry #the techno lorehead brain got activated #asks

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the-ghost-bracket · 9 months

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Last time! The 75 most submitted characters:

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Hanako/Yugi Amane - Toilet-Bound Hanako-Kun (4 times)

Luke Patterson - Julie and the Phantoms (4 times)

Obi-Wan Kenobi - Star Wars (4 times)

Reggie Peters - Julie and the Phantoms (4 times)

Reimi Sugimoto - Jojo's Bizarre Adventure (4 times)

Thomas Thorne - BBC Ghosts (4 times)

Zelda - The Legend of Zelda: Tracks (4 times)

Banquo - MacBeth (4 times)

Church - Red vs Blue (4 times)

Malachi - Minecraft Diaries (4 times)

Malcom Crowe - The Sixth Sense (4 times)

Skull in a jar/The whispering skull - Lockwood & Co (4 times)

Starscream- Transformers (3 times)

Alex Mercer - Julie and the Phantom (3 times)

PJ - Paranatural (3 times)

Tikal the Echidna - Sonic the Hedgehog (3 times)

Madhouse Mike - Cryptid Crush (3 times)

Bow - Inanimate Insanity (3 times)

Candy Diver Cookie - Cookie Run Kingdom (3 times)

Abigail - Don't Starve (3 times)

Mad Mew Mew - Undertale (3 times)

Leon Stamatis - Greater Boston (3 times)

Annie Sawyer - Being Human (3 times)

Julian Fawcett - BBC Ghosts (3 times)

Das Kleine Gespenst - Das Kleine Gespenst (3 times)

Spike - Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel (3 times)

Percy Reed - Hello from the Hallowoods (3 times)

Blinky, Pinky, Inky and Clyde (3 times)

Carrie - The Amazing World of Gumball (3 times)

Alther Mella - Septimus Heap (3 times)

Leon Stamatis - Greater Boston (3 times)

King Boo - Super Mario (3 times)

Slimer - Ghostbusters (3 times)

Lup - The Adventure Zone: Balance (3 times)

The 19 most submitted fandoms:

BBC Ghosts (49 times)

Danny Phantom (33 times)

Undertale (26 times)

Ninjago (22 times)

Ghost Trick (19 times)

Pokemon (19 times)

Monster High (15 times)

Julia and the Phantoms (14 times)

Heaven Official's Blessing (14 times )

The Band Ghost (13 times)

The Raven Cycle (13 times)

One Piece (11 times)

The Locked Tomb (11 times)

DSMP (11 times)

Kamen Rider Ghost (10 times)

Dominion SMP (9 times)

Mystery Skulls Aninated (9 times)

Heathers (9 times)

The Magnus Archives (8 times)

#ghost bracket #ghost poll #danny phantom #heathers the musical #bbc ghosts #the band ghost #ghost trick #heaven official's blessing #ninjago #the raven cycle #dsmp #dominion smp #mystery skulls animated #monster high #monster prom

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pastelgalaxiez · 5 months

Text

Bench Trio :3

I missed them very much. So I dug up all the lore that's still in my brain and made some designs Most of it is from memory We support slightly unhinged tubbo in this household. He's earned it If I colored this, Tommy's sweater vest would be blue, because ghostbur Ranboos particles are holding up his crown, because I feel like that's cute. And they have a little holder for their memory book. :3

#dream smp #dsmp fanart #tubbo fanart #tommyinnit fanart #ranboo fanart #tubbo #Tommyinnit #Ranboo #bench trio #character design #digital art #Maybe I'll color this sometime #I love this trio with all my heart #A shame we don't get to see it much anymore

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ghosts-and-blue-sweaters · 10 months

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I’d kinda forgotten that Wilbur killed Friend in order to send him to Limbo. To be with Ghostbur. Oh.

#I just watched that vod again #mannnnn #that scene was cool #and it was raining toooo #so cinematic #gosh #WILBUR ALSO SAID ‘HAVE SOME BLUE. IT’LL MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER’#HEH?#Wilbur was so scared to kill Friend oh that was hard to watch #but it was a GOOD scene my goodness #Wilbur really had a turn around in regards to Ghostbur #went from hating him to killing a cute animal for him #✨character development✨#my post #my DSMP thoughts

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rgbstatic · 7 months

Text

something something Tommy brought up Ghostbur in one of his last streams

something about him and the legacy we leave behind

yeah it was over a blue energy drink but Tommy said before Ghostbur was a thing that his favorite color was blue

and now when he sees a blue can his first verbal thought was "Ghostbur would've liked this"

Ghostbur, a fictional character who only existed for 6 months, was present for less.

A fictional character from a series already almost a year over, almost two since he last appeared.

Something about a legacy.

#rgb talking #ghostbur #dream smp

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calmthefuckdownalright · 1 year

Note

Can I request different Wilbur variety’s with a reader who is very peaceful and dislikes violence?

Ooooh...pascifist reader. Ultimate innocence against our unhinged lover boy? Don't. Mind. If. I. Do.

Warnings: Does not follow the Dream SMP Season 1 Timeline very well

><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

L'manbur

Now Wilbur in the beginning wishes he could've done this without violence.

And then y'know...things escalated and that changed drastically.

You had been an adoring face for ages to the General and imagine his surprise when the one he loved nearly vomited at the sight of a gash along his cheek

"Darling?! Darling are you okay?! Is it the blood? I can go wash it off really quickly!"

No it wasn't the blood you would confess

It was that you couldn't stand the thought of him going out and fighting for his life and passion.

You would explain and things would twist.

Wilbur would turn to more negotiating terms much to Tommy's dismay

An agreement would be reached on shaky terms and bows and swords would be at the ready.

An unsteady treaty with fine lines and disagreeable terms on the L'manberg side but it kept things at ease for a long while. A while enough that Wilbur could figure out a way to finish this cold war quickly.

Needless to say the word ‘war’ is used and war always means violence, which you did not like.

Wilbur was careful in his attacks and being the clever fellow he is was able to manage independence under the guise of many many zombie, creeper, and even skeleton “accidents”

Wilbur would go to any lengths for those and that of which he loves, and if that means hiding a few bombs and traps behind unknowing enemy lines then so be it.

Alivebur (AKA Vil!bur)

He loves you no doubt

And he hates it when you despair and worry and fret and blah blah blah

It makes his gut turn and his head pound

He knows there’s no other way to finish this. No other way to “save” L’manberg

He’s ready to give it all up with whatever it takes

Wilbur wishes you weren’t like this

He wishes you didn’t choke on air when you smelled gunpowder and blood on his clothes

“I know baby, I’m sorry, please forgive me.”

He tells you this so much it might as well be tattooed on his tongue.

Then he finally blows it all up and he does it right to your face.

You don’t grieve for him very long as the reminder of his violence drowned away and built over.

Ghostbur (Follows Vilbur)

Ghostbur doesn’t like violence much either and is constantly agreeing with you

It’s strange and wonderful how different Ghostbur is from the Wilbur you knew

“Let’s look away okay? Here come play with Friend for a bit and I’ll come get you when it’s all over!”

You followed him to Logstedshire (I hope I spelt that right) and endured the days and nights that Dream visited while you and Ghostbur did as well

You helped him forge the compasses and couldn’t help but think:

Maybe Wilbur dying was the best thing that could’ve happened for you.

It isn’t long before you and Ghostbur are in a relationship

One that didn’t fight but talked out their issues

One that communicated and avoided conflict, even if it meant burying it in the past.

“What’s worse, hearing BadBoyHalo say fuck or blowing up an entire nation?”

Now when THIS happens?

“I did what?”

It isn’t long before Quackity is on your shit list. A dislike of violence isn’t a dislike of hate

It takes about a week to get Ghostbur out of that stupor and even then he’s fingering blue and apologizing for the littlest things.

Philza steps in and tries to help.

Really in turn of Ghostbur dealing with a reader who dislikes violence it’s more of Reader helping Ghostbur with his violent past

Simpbur/Yanderebur

Alright, you don’t like violence?

He invites you to play racing games and simulations

Animal Crossing on nights you don’t want to go out and flowers and take-out in the park when you do.

Simpbur knows the world is pretty violent and the fact you dislike it makes his bones tingle every time a stranger cat calls or wolf whistles at you down the street

He’s very discreet with his dealings and tends to sneak away vigilante style when he has a target pinned.

“I’ve just got to run to the bathroom love okay? I’ll be back in a bit.”

Comes back with torn knuckles and a cut across his cheek.

“I fell a bit and got a little angry. Please don’t be sad, I’m okay.”

Of course in situations like this sometimes violence is unavoidable.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

...well then

How’s everyone doing? Happy New Year’s and I’m gonna go collapse with my cat before I do it here.

#c!wilbur x reader #c!wilbur #c!wilbur soot #simpbur x reader #alivebur #vilbur x reader #l'manbur x reader #ghostbur #ghostbur x reader #dsmp #dream smp headcanons #it doesn't follow the story but oh well

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patxhwrk · 1 year

Note

greetings. could u write a little imagine thing for ethoslab? watcher!reader or dsmp!reader thanks! preferably male reader. take ur time if u do write it. stay hydrated.

my fuck this is such a good idea thank you anon for being so smart

anyways dsmp reader with angst sorry about that

completely forgot u asked for an imagine so have a whole fic instead. I might write a seperate imagine for this one too tho

-ˋˏ✄— Bubbling Memories

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ Ethoslab x Male! DSMP! Reader

Pronouns: he/him

"You're more home to me than any house is."

.navigation. // .hermitcraft & empires smp masterlist.

CW!!

—Mentions of character death

—Implications of self-harm & attempt su*c*de

—Blood

—Derealization(?)

Every second spent in that lawless server—ironic, considering it had been laws that started wars—was spent in the echoes of left behind misery. There was never silence in that world. If you managed to stumble upon even a sliver of quaint and quiet, you would find that it would have been better to have the ear piercing noise.

Y/n was lucky enough to have been left with one life. The last thing he remembered from the old server was the sorrowful eyes of his friends waving goodbye as he left. The portal—it vaguely reminded him of a nether portal if it was pink—shrunk as Tubbo's and Ranboo's backs turned to leave.

He hugged the blue stained yellow sweater closer to himself as he turned towards the new server—his new server—as the habitants greeted him with warmed welcome arms.

He was half afraid of building something that took effort. But one reassuring conversation with Xisuma—the man somewhat resembled Dream. Why was his mask fucking green?—coaxed him into building one of the biggest and best things he had ever created in his life. Well, it was just an "improved" Logstedshire, but it was the thought that counts, right? Building it reminded him of the time he spent with his brothers—though one had been a ghost, it was fine. He even put a bell where he and Tommy would—!

His hands stopped swinging the bell.

Tommy was dead. His younger brother had visited Dream in the prison where he was left to die. And he left his brother because he was too much of a pussy to confront the same man who had tormented him until he had a knife barely glazing at the skin of his throat.

He shook his head, running his hands through the mop he called hair as the bell ringed a final time. It silenced before it stilled. And then Y/n left his base.

Voices rang in his ear—was it his?—as he scolded himself for building something that gave him so much horrible memories more than the good ones. Why can't be just be like Ghostbur? Forgetful of the sorrows and always looking at the sun even through dark clouds.

His arms found comfort in himself, wrapping around each other as his nails dug into the skin under the yellow sweater. Wilbur wouldn't mind if he stained it, right? Wilbur would reassure him that it was fine, he was fine, it was all fine. And then he'd take the sweater and wash it. Because Wilbur was a good big brother.

No, Wilbur's dead. His brother was long dead before Philza killed him. Ghostbur wasn't like Wilbur, either.

He walked aimlessly around the server. He would have reminded himself of Ranboo's enderwalking state if he was in his own head. He watched as he passed by builds, ignoring the calls of concerned friends—friends? He had friends now?—as his feet brought him further and further from the build that he longed to blow up. Longed to tear into shreds bare handed as the memories of a pain long buried but never forgotten bubbled back to his head. Longed to feel the blood coat his fingers as his fists crashed through the shards of glass that showed the reflections of himself—a man who was too much of a coward to save his little brother. Too much of a coward to stop his father from killing the brother he looked up to. Too much of a fucking coward to just shove the knife through his chest, in the same place the sword dyed the sweater blue.

He longed to let his hands, his arms, his whole body fucking hurt. The seating hot pain that followed, the ache, the numbness, before it disappeared and he'd wake up with one less life left.

A hand was placed on his wrists. Cold, it was so fucking cold, as it pulled his shaking hands away from the yellow—now red stained sleeves—sweater.

It jolted him awake. Whether it was the cold, the tug of his arms, the way his voice called to him, or his concerned eyes searching for something—just something—in Y/n's unfocused stare.

"Y/n, hey," Etho's voice was gentle. He was patient as he tried to bring Y/n's eyes to his own. "Hey, hey, I'm here."

"I—Etho?" Y/n's voice was barely above a whisper, almost inaudible to Etho if he hadn't been paying close attention to him. "What—?"

Etho's arms wrapped around his midsection, pressing him against himself as his hand raised to hold Y/n's head gently. "Thank void you're okay."

Hesitantly, Y/n wrapped his arms around Etho's neck. He hadn't realized his legs were shaking until his whole weight was leaned against him. But Etho didn't complain, he was strong enough to carry Y/n if he ever needed. And he did now.

Y/n sniffled. He didn't stop the tears flowing out of his eyes as he buried his head on Etho's shoulder. And Etho let him. He buried his head on his hair as Y/n's whole body shook.

Pressing a feather light kiss on the crown of his head, Etho whispered in the quiet forest. "It's okay, you can cry. But it is never your fault. None of it is."

Y/n's eyes searched the distance, and he realized just how far he walked when he spotted the world border a distance away. He sniffled and hiccuped as Etho gently and patiently combed through his hair.

He shook off his thoughts before it could remind him of a memory long past and buried himself further into Etho's clothes. It smelled like redstone, and the glowing red dust was enough to tell Y/n that he was working on a project before hand.

"Let's get you home, shall we?"

"No, not my place. Please don't bring me back there, not again."

Etho nodded. The pain in Y/n's voice stung his heart, and he knew he had to make him feel better. He kneeled down for a short second just to hook his arms under Y/n's knees and bring him up to carry him easier. Y/n's head still nested on his shoulder as he took off to the direction of his own base.

"My place, then."

"You don't have a proper base yet, Etho." Etho felt the upwards tug of his lips. His eyes glanced down to Y/n's whose reddened eyes watched the path they took.

"Hey, it's a home to me and it'll be a home to you!" He laughed to lighten the mood. Y/n's quiet chuckles followed after him and he smiled down at him.

"Thank you, Etho."

"Anytime, sweetheart."

Y/n could take down improved Logstedshire when he felt better. Then, he wouldn't have to do it bare handed. Or alone, he reminded himself, as his eyes found dual coloured eyes.

Right now, he was just content to be with Etho.

—PATCHWRK !

#hermitcraft x reader #ethoslab x reader #etho x reader #ethoslab x male reader #hermitcraft x male reader #dsmp reader #dsmp x reader #dsmp x male reader #dream smp x reader #dream smp x male reader

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cyani07 · 6 months

Note

In the process of separating qsmp Wilbur from dsmp Wilbur you ended up making an accidental association to Ghostbur.

not my intention at all I PROMISE its just tntduo blue scarf

#mailbox #seriously had nothing to do with ghostbur or friend

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ax-y10 · 7 months

Text

Blue

In which- a peaceful few hours between ghostbur and you

A/n: Something I came up with in my messages with @vibestillaxxx

Chapter info: kissing (not lips), mention of biting, showering, sleeping, platonic relationship, hidden feelings

Pronouns: None (You/Yours)

Masterlist:

Context: You'd just come in from doing some work in your garden and decided to wash up. It was around lunchtime when Ghostbur showed up with friend and wanted to help you out a little bit.

Ghostbur was sitting on the sofa watching friend graze in the fields in front of your small home accompanied by the soft sounds of the water running in the shower.

The small creak of the shower tap being turned off distracted him, but he kept watching friend, finding it amusing how the blue wool would randomly appear amongst the long wheat crop.

"Hello, my blue. Watching friend again, are we?" Your voice broke him from his thoughts, and ultimately entranced him with your soft voice again.

"Yeah but it was funny how he would randomly appear out of the overgrowth. I love it!"

He leaned against the back of the sofa, collecting his blue wool and two small needles and started knitting his small blue patch for his jumper again.

A little while later, you'd rested your head against his shoulder and listened to his soft breaths, and watched friends antics out in the field, a small friend he'd found bouncing around with him.

Your soft snores a few minutes later were quickly noticed by ghostbur and he lifted you into his arms and carried you up to your room. He knew it wasn't right to sleep in the same bed as you, but he was sure you wouldn't mind him just watching your peaceful face while you slept. Was it weird? Not in his eyes.

Eventually, he'd fallen asleep against the soft pillows at the other end of your bed, just before you woke up from your small nap. You climbed into his lap and sat there, admiring his translucent features and his stained blue fingertips.

He woke up to you rested against his arm, a small bite mark left there from your boredom getting the best of you, and some small red lines from where your fingers had run across his arm and shoulder. You didn't mean any harm by it, but just to get revenge for the obvious mark going to be left there, he couldn't help himself when he pressed lingering kisses across your face and jaw.

Safe to say when you both looked in the mirror, you both looked a mess.

Quick info: The biting isn't meant to be dirty, it's meant to be like when a sibling or friend bites you and you get a small red mark. The relationship is platonic but is essentially just you both hiding your feelings. And the thing about the red lines on his arm and shoulders is because I have a headcanon that Ghostbur leaves blue lines and shit on you and because he's translucent and doesn't have body heat, you leave little red lines of warmth.

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur #ghostbur #ghostbur x reader #wilbur imagines #ghostbur imagine #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur fluff #ghostbur fluff

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supernovaa-remnant · 3 months

Note

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Ghostbur confronts Dream on Doomsday

Baptise Your Anger

Dream & Ghostbur | Gen | 1.4k words | Hurt No Comfort @sixteenth-day-event

Dream’s not sure how to feel about Ghostbur. Whenever he’s around the ghost, his thoughts are filled with the stench of cigarette smoke and the feeling of knuckles brushing against his own. For all that everyone insists Ghosbur is different from Wilbur—or Alivebur, as everyone’s taken to calling him—all Dream can see are the similarities. Sure, Ghosbur is more naive and trusting, but he’s still Wilbur. He still has the near-inhuman ability to spin simple words into poetic prose, and he still has the same smile and the same laugh and the same anxiety tells of biting lips and tugging on sleeves. He still has the same self loathing, too, and though Ghostbur tries desperately to push all of that onto the image of Alivebur in his mind, Dream can tell the ghost still harbors hate for himself as he is.

That’s one difference between the two; Dream can read Ghostbur much easier than he could ever hope to be able to read Wilbur.

But even with that, Ghostbur is far more similar to Wilbur than anyone cares to see. His fingers still feel the same when they curl around the edges of Dream’s mask, a silent question of May I? lingering in the air before Dream folds and nods his head. (Because Dream will always, inevitably, bend to the will of Wilbur Soot, regardless of which name the man uses to call himself). His lips feel the same, too, whenever they brush against the back of Dream’s hands or dust over the freckles on Dream’s cheeks.

And yet, even with the similarities, it’s undeniable that there are differences. Ghostbur is like Wilbur in many ways, but only in the way an echoed phrase is like the original words spoken. So, Dream’s not sure how to feel about Ghostbur.

He’s especially not sure how to feel, now, watching as the tears falling from desaturated eyes burn the ghost.

He’s especially not sure how to feel about the look of utter betrayal that paints over the ghost’s face.

“How could you?!” Ghostbur cries, his words accented by the sob that shuddered through his body afterwards.

Dream sighs; he’d been hoping to avoid this confrontation.

“I don’t know why you’re surprised, Ghostbur,” Dream says. “It’s not like I’ve hidden my dislike of L’manburg from you.”

“But–” the ghost starts, pausing to try in vain to wipe his tears. Dream tries to suppress his wince as he watches the tears burn the ghost’s hands, but he still finds himself instinctively reaching out to his inventory to look for a healing potion. “But I liked L’manburg,” Ghostbur finishes quietly.

Confusion washes over Dream.

“Why would that affect my actions?”

Ghostbur looks somehow more upset at his words.

“Because I thought you cared about me,” he says, and Dream desperately tries to ignore the way his words make his heart squeeze. “It wasn’t about whether or not you liked L’manburg! I thought Phil cared enough about me to not destroy my home. I thought you cared enough not to.”

Dream grabs the healing potion. He gets closer to Ghostbur, internally sighing with relief when the ghost doesn’t back away, and offers the potion. Ghostbur takes it with mumbled words that might have been a thanks but also could have been an insult. Dream pays it no mind, though, instead focusing on softly wiping away the remaining tears whilst Ghostbur drinks the shimmering pink liquid. Dream places a hand on Ghostbur’s chest to keep him stable, uncaring of the vibrant blue that will no doubt stain his glove. Ghostbur doesn’t seem to mind the contact, wrapping a pale hand around Dream’s wrist whilst Dream tries to not think about the lack of a heartbeat under his palm.

“Do you really think L’manburg was that good?”

“Of course I do!”

“Even though Alivebur made it? Aren’t you always talking about how bad Alivebur was?”

A troubled look passes over Ghostbur’s face for a moment, and Dream briefly wonders if this is when he’s going to forget this conversation.

“Bad people can make good things sometimes,” Ghostbur says. “And Tommy helped make it, too.” Dream stiffens at the mention of Tommy, but Ghostbur continues as if he doesn’t notice Dream’s reaction. “Besides, you cared about Alivebur. I don’t understand why you did, but you must have had a reason, so he couldn’t have been all bad.”

Dream inhales sharply. He tells himself that one of these days Ghostbur’s words will stop having such an effect on him, but he knows he’s just lying to himself.

“Who said I cared about Alivebur?” He asks, trying to save face. He doesn’t know why he’s trying so hard, especially when Ghostbur is bound to forget this encounter anyway, but maybe he’s trying to convince himself more than he’s trying to convince the ghost.

“Who said I cared about you?” He adds for good measure.

“But you said–”

“Does it matter what I said? Does any of this matter? You’re going to forget it all anyway like you always do,” Dream says, and he internally scolds himself for being unable to fully remove the accusatory tone.

Ghostbur squeezes Dream’s wrist in what may be an attempt at a comforting gesture.

“I’m sorry I’m so forgetful,” he says. “I really really am. And I know that I always forget the bad things so I might have a skewed perception of the world, but I remember the good things. And I remember that you care about me. And I remember that I love you.”

Dream tries to pull back at the words, but Ghostbur tightens his grip.

“And I don’t just remember Alivebur’s love for you, either, as twisted as it may have been,” Ghostbur continues, “I remember my love for you, because I’m not Alivebur. And this love is mine. Which is why I’m so hurt that you’d do such a thing to me. Because I can still remember the fondness in your eyes when you look at me—you never were good at hiding your expressions without your mask.”

Dream hisses, frantically putting up walls in his mind because he has a plan to complete and a path to walk down as he’s guided by hands that smell of cigarette smoke. He’s going down hand in unlovable hand by the one who gave him this role, and attachments are a weakness he can’t afford.

“Why would I ever love you?” He asks, venom filling his tone. Ghostbur didn’t accuse you of love, a voice in the back of his mind says, you’re revealing your hand by claiming he did. But the voice doesn’t matter, now when all Dream can think about is a nest that may have one egg left after all, an egg that can’t be there if he’s to continue with the plan. “I don’t care about anything, Ghostbur! Least of all you!”

Ghostbur pulls back with a whine. “You’re lying,” he says. “I know you are, but that doesn’t make it hurt less.”

“How would you know if I’m lying? All you have are fragments of memory from someone you could never hope to compare to! You could’ve died again when I was blowing up L’manburg, and I wouldn’t have cared! I wouldn’t have even noticed.” Dream can barely hear the words he’s saying, just letting them tumble out of his mouth in hopes something will cut whatever thread stretches between him and Ghostbur.

“Stop lying!” Ghostbur’s turning intangible in his distress, tears burning him yet again, but this time Dream forcibly locks away any part of him that aches at the sight. “Why are you lying?!”

“Don’t you get it, Ghostbur? I want you to forget this. I want to taint every happy memory you have of me so you can forget about every delusion of care between us.”

A stricken look passes over Ghostbur’s face, but despite it all he manages to find more words to make Dream bleed. “It’s not the end of the world if someone cares about you, Dream. You don’t have to be what Alivebur made you.”

“Yes I do,” Dream says, and then he walks away, not stopping until the sobs behind him fully fade into the distance.

#sixteenthdayevent #dreblr #madduo #c!dreambur #ghostbur #c!dream #dsmp fic #I got to this today!! yippee :3 #if this is ooc blame it on me having covid please #writing from the void #stella answers

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