#dsmp wilbur soot

[snelbies]

i use my skills for good trust me

[camenxi]

Again & Again

[squietol]

stuck in a hospital for 7 hours heres my pookies + c!wil design (everyone is fine btw)

[fernlessbastard]

Opinions on transfem/Trans woman c!Wilbur? If you havent already, since its a slightly popular Hc w c!W

honestly I'm mostly indifferent ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

it's not for me, but like I've got no particularly strong feelings either way. I can absolutely see a lot of reasons for that reading - it all does fit, so it's not a matter of there being no justification, but more so just personally I just don't hold that headcanon

the thing with either of them being trans is that like, I am for some reason oddly attached to Quackity being specifically and strictly a man who's into men, or at the very least masc individuals - maybe it's cause I just started off with that "hc" (I mean it is kinda pretty heavily canon - I don't recall him ever flirting with a woman). Wil being mtf would obviously make all of that very complicated - each time I start to think about it I can't help but think if 1. is there any way for Q to still be into Wil without that invalidating Wil's gender identity 2. is there any way for Q - a gay man - to have feelings for a woman that doesn't invalidate his sexual identity Like, exceptions happen, but mm idk It's obvioulsy completely different if you hc Q as pan/bi/homoflexible/whatever else, but yeah personally I'm just really attached to the idea of Q being strictly homosexual

When it comes to the nonbinary umbrella it's kinda similar (with both being amab) - with Wil it works i'd say, there isn't as much of a conflict with Quackity's sexuality, but again, I'm mostly indifferent and you do you; with Q it just kinda doesn't quite fit for me - idk he just has relatively binary man vibes imo

in regards to other combinations of one/both of them being trans: > Wil's ftm - yeah sure I'm down with that, good for him, I don't actively hc that but like yeah no conflict there, plus I guess it'd explain how he had Fundy - though fantasy mpreg makes it so much funnier > Q's mtf - idk personally i just don't feel it in the slightest. He doesn't really give me any of those vibes. Especially considering things like the fact that he's short, has longer hair, is/used to be a sex worker (with presumably male clients), is heavily (and at the very least primarily, if not exclusively) into men, canonically has a big ass, etc, so it just really doesn't sit right with me to then have him be mtf - I just want some more representation of those characteristics in men for once, y'know? It's just feels like it's perpetuating stereotypes. Of course there is no wrong way to be trans - if you're trans, you're trans, and that is valid and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. But we're talking about a fictional character, so if we have a character that's amab, likes men, is a sex worker, is short, has long hair, isn't trying to be this stereotypical "perfect big strong alpha male", is emotionally invested in their romantic life (which additionally is messy), then turning around and saying "woman" just feels like we're just going off stereotypes, and ignoring an example of a great, rare, pretty subversive representation of a man who might come off as feminine at times, but is still fully a man, and all those things that are stereotypically assigned to women and a fem gender identity don't make him any less of a man. Especially the fact that he's into men - it does personally just immediately remind me of all the "a gay man is just a woman" talk (and maybe it's cause I'm from Poland and in my 20s now so i really did grow up hearing those sentiments quite a lot). And obviously i'm not saying that that's what you're doing when you hc Q as mtf, but i am explaining my personal headcanons and reasonings for them, as well as reasoning for why I don't headcanon other things. > Q's ftm - ok so, it fits. And I really really hate that it fits. It would make so much sense but holy fuck guys I cannot handle that ok - I'm ftm, and if he's cis then I can like at least partially remove myself from all of that... but if he's ftm then holy fucking shit everything just hits so much harder like guys I'm not strong enough to handle the pain of seeing this much of myself in him ok I will simply collapse, like him being seen as an object and sexualised and put down and belittled and pressured to be all submissive and shit just hits so completely different if you see it through the lenses of him being ftm and let me fucking tell you I am NOT ready for the breakdown thinking about it and how similar and in some cases identical to my own experiences it all is would cause m > ANYWAY with them both being trans it's just a combination of my previous thoughts as they apply ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

hope that answers your question UwU anyway ha ha bye--/lh

[graysontheslime]

Trick or treat!

A pinch hit I did for @mcyt-trick-or-treat! Gift for glowstickbomb on AO3!!

[mysticalsoot]

you changed, it's good

A/N; soooo ive kinda been in a writing slump so take this fic thats been building dust in my docs- also tysm for 300!! hopefully ill come up w smth for it lol- I have no clue how to process that information omf

summary; months after wilbur's revival and his reunion with you and the daughter you share (that he didn't know about), you let out pent emotions and have a heartfelt talk with wilbur

tw// swearing, not lore accurate, im a wilbur apologist shush, children, suicidal mentions maybe? lmk if i missed anything

words; 1.8k

pairings; c!wilbur x gn!reader (they're parents), revivedbur x gn!reader

pronouns; none!

masterlist

—★—

The time since Wilbur’s death and revival may not have been that long, but for you, it felt like ages--you had a child now, his, yes but you’ve begun another life. A life with a little girl, a life without him. But now, he was here and he was trying. You appreciated it but god did you fear it too. The memories taunted you, the hurt and the aching that still lingered, haunted you. He haunted you.

Your head is rested upon Wilbur's chest, and the thumping of his heart echoes in your mind. His left arm wraps around your shoulder and your own arms around his middle. Your daughter, Willow lays against his other side, curled into a ball, and his other arm held tightly around her in comforting warmth. This moment is what you imagined life to be all those years, before everything…happened.

You seemed to always subconsciously wish for moments like these, at least, in the past few years. One’s where Willa has a parent other than yourself, someone else to hold her, and someone to hold you too. Domestic bliss, calm and serene. No wars or bombs, no screaming, and yelling. Simply the sound of your partner's heart and the sight of him holding your child. It's a reassurance of sorts, a silent "everything will be okay, even if it wasn't before". 

Things used to be so not okay that having this calmness is nice. Having his arms around you again is lovely, being able to kiss him and hold him, to watch him help raise your daughter, to play with her and hold her. Tickle her and carry her on his shoulders, hold her hand with his, and walk with her on the prime path. To teach her how to ride a horse, after bringing one home for her, and helping her name him.

"Wilbur?" You whisper to him, moving your head back, your gaze locked upwards on him. He looks down at you, a soft smile written on his features, and he tilts his head to the side.

"Yes, my love?" he leans down, leaving a soft kiss to your lips and you smile through it, the warmth in your stomach swelling the same way it did when you both were younger. You take a moment to admire him, the way his curls fall in his face, how his glasses are always crooked and now are no different, and how the small freckles he adorns sprinkle his cheeks. Everything about him is beautiful, and so it brings you back to what you wanted to say. What you need to say, what is right to say.

"What happened? After lmanburg? You were so…" Your mind goes blank for a word to properly describe it, without hurting him. Cruel, evil, manipulative, the list goes on. It's odd to you, how someone could become so horrible and then return to a better version of their old self in a matter of years. "Horrible, then. To everyone, to yourself."

His face falls, and so does your heart, falling to the deep pits of your stomach. You can feel the life drain from your face and it hurts. You feel an immense dread, and wonder if you hadn’t mentioned it, how you would feel. It's a difficult subject for him but at this point, you think it had to be brought up. How can one accept this happy domestic life without knowing the full truth?

"I got lost, I think. Lost in the greed I suppose." He pauses, dips his head down to press his forehead against yours. His eyes close and he takes a breath, his arm letting go of Willa and placing his hand on your cheek, fingers gently brushing the skin and his eyes hold a warm sadness to them, "I wanted the joy still, the happiness for our future. But it got pushed back. I was blinded. There's a lot I don't remember. I mean I remember pieces here and there. Bribes from dream, desperate attempts to make things work for everyone and everything."

"And then what? You realized hurting us was better?" You’re hostile now, something switching or rather, breaking in your heart. You know you shouldn't react this way, get defensive--but a piece of you is still painfully angry and hateful, filled to the brim with spite and it’s accidentally let through the cracks. You back up a moment, his touch leaving you, hand falling to his side, head still dipped down.

"I realized I couldn't make it perfect for everyone, there were sacrifices I had to make." He takes another deep breath, wraps his arms around Willow again, she doesn't move. "And I made the wrong ones, I know that. I see that." Wil looks down at the lump that his daughter forms, a little ball of a girl. She moves to grab onto his arm in her sleep and she hums, a soft smile adorns his lips.

You feel you should be satisfied with his answers, and half of you is, but you still wonder; "Why? Why did you do it?"

His gaze lets its grip off of Willow, walks up and he looks to you, pupils big and somber, bloodshot and wet. "To not hurt anyone anymore. It was for the best." 

You want to scream at him now, tell him how much of an idiot he is. Screams that are bloodcurdling, one’s that most definitely would wake up Willa and anyone surrounding the area. That no, killing yourself in fact does not stop the hurt, it only fuels it, like a spark to dead grass. He made Phil kill him, he made you watch as he destroyed his livelihood, your shared livelihood, watch as he's stabbed to death by his own goddamn father. It was never ending with him, it was always something new, something bigger, more painful than before. You want to storm away, back off, and not let him near you for a split second, it's all an overreaction, you tell yourself but you simply can't help it.

You stare at him for a moment, your expression blank and emotionless. Willow turns onto her back, eyes open slightly and her arms reach up to Wil. "Hey, daddy." She mumbles out, a smile of her own sculpted onto her features. Wil smiles back.

"Hello, my love. Are you ready for bed?" He asks, lifting her up by her sides and gently sitting her on his lap. She nods sluggishly, and she rests herself against him, chest to chest, head on shoulder, and tiny arms wrapped around his neck. "Let's get you into bed then, sweetie."

You just watch, your eyes follow him as he walks out of the living room, into the kitchen, and down the stairs. You sit there, alone now. Thoughts cycle through your mind. All the things you had wished for, every thought that graced your consciousness, every question unanswered for years. You missed him, you really truly did. But you aren’t sure who you missed more, and is the one you missed, the one you lie with at night? The one that wraps his arms around you in the morning, leaves a sloppy kiss on your cheek, and brushes the hair out of your face. The man that waits there, holding you, until Willow comes rushing in the room to ‘wake’ you both up. The same man that shushes you lovingly and says "Pretend you're asleep, love," the moment he hears her bedroom door open, so she can have the satisfaction of waking you both.

You now rest your head on the back of the couch, your gaze focused on the window on the opposite side of the room. Snow gently falls past it, frost taken over the glass. The fire crackles and warms you like a hug. 

What feels like moments later, even warmer arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to the body they're attached to. "Wil?" You call out, your voice coming out gravelly, and you realize you must've fallen asleep.

"Hey.." It comes out weak, the word feels broken and sounds broken. "I'm sorry, for all the shitty things I've done. I know my reasoning isn't nor has it ever been valid. But I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere, and I don't have any plans of mass terrorism." His voice becomes clearer, breaks up less and he dips his head down again, pressing his cheek against yours. You nearly open your eyes, but keep them closed, and revel in the feeling of him more. 

"I know." You pause, and let your own arms wrap around him, but instead of his middle like he has you held--you wrap your arms around his neck, your hands weaving into his mop of curls. "I think part of me still hurts, it's stupid I guess." You rest your head on his shoulder, and he pulls you closer, your legs now wrapped around him too.

"It's not, I hurt you. I take accountability for that and I hate that I even did it in the first place." His voice cracks again, and you know he means it. You pull back, your hands pressed against his cheeks and he looks up at you.

You hesitate, mulling over the words falling off his lips, his expression knotted in anxiety. Your thumbs run over his pink-tinted cheeks and you kiss his forehead.

"If you were that same person, you wouldn't say that." You take a breath, "I think you've changed. In a good way."

He sighs, wrapping his arms tighter around you. "I hope I have."

“I know you have,” You pause, grasping his face in your hands and getting him to pull back simply so he can gaze at you.

“How?” His voice is merely a croaked-out mumble but it’s enough that you hear it loud and clear.

“Would you be here, in my arms, after putting our daughter to bed if you hadn't changed?" You paused, eyes gazing deeply into his and searching for any doubt to crush with your words, "Would you even search for us if you were that same man? For good, not to hurt us."

He shakes his head, "I changed, didn't I?"

"In the best way possible." A soft kiss placed on his lips, one of love and devotion. A simple peck speaking every word and emotion you've ever felt--but only the good.

He smiles against the kiss, grasping at your sides and pulling you closer and closer to him. You were already so close, practically one, but he felt the need to pull you so much closer that not only were your bodies one, but so were your souls.

He pulls away from the kiss, hands resting on your face, "I love you," he nuzzles his nose against yours and you giggle, twisting your fingers into the curls on the back of his head, "so much." The last bit is whispered, like a quiet promise. A promise of devotion and loyalty. Something you're glad to finally have. 

There's nothing in the way of him being with you. With your daughter.

"I love you more," You smile to him softly, a kiss placed on his forehead, and you push stray curls out of his face as he nuzzles his head against your chest.

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

[a-sociopath-do-your-research]

Hello everyone! Meet Thanatos!

The people asked and I delivered! Wilbur and Techno's fusion!

(cough if you support cc!Wilbur get out)

Bonuses under the cut!

He uses he/they!

He has 4 arms, though they can hide 2 of them. They're hiding them in this picture. I didn't forget them, no, what makes you think I did-

He takes Wilbur's over the top personality and Mix it with Techno's confidence in himself making Thanatos an absolute bastard (affectionate)

He can change his height anywhere between 7 feet to 20, though they usually stay around 8.

How did they happen, you may ask! That is a very good question. Ask Wilbur.

He takes the scars and pink wings from Techno!

He's actually supposed to have 4 wings as well, but I didn't forget them. Wilbur lost them.

The head wings are from Wilbur!

Their tail is like a fox's, but pink like Techno's fur

His hair is ridiculously long. Like. It gets to his knees.

Any bird attributes are from owls. So they're very awake at night

There's actually ~4 versions of him, this is the post-revival version (fuck did I forget the white hair streak-)

They talk. A LOT.

Like the twins won't mention Thanatos' existence but he'll overshare shit about them and get mad they haven't talked about him

Edit: compilation of people's reaction to him

Alternate versions of the drawing now! Be warned, he doesn't have the tank top so like. If that makes you uncomfortable don't scroll further lol

[crabrat]

i spent all day on this i’m so eepy

for the @copepods dtiys

today i give you crimeboys

tomorrow? who knows

[genevawrenn]

Probably the only thing I will say on the problems surrounding Wilbur and the CC himself atm, its a litte raw coming from someone who mained SBI for nearly two years.

That character is one I took for myself, DSMP in a lot of ways was built on fan content made canon, leaving a lot of open room for changes.

Hell I had a whole non canon pantheon and various powers I gave different characters in the ways I chose to portray them.

I am very upset about how it all went down but am using the energy to push towards my original writing and less online time.

I will still talk about fandom related things! You know I will, I've been loving my time on this platform. Its a lot more chill than others like a certain birb app.

These past 2 years I have been finally addressing a lot of my mental health concerns and done some self-evaluation, escapism is a bad habit of mine I am working on dialing back.

I am still very passionate about my writing.

I enjoy writing fanfic still because I picked it up as practice and it helped me immensely find a footing in my style once more.

I just needed to get this off my chest.

Thank you all for sticking with me through these changes. <3

[trenchcrows]

happy new year to my @mcytblrholidayexchange @somehowmags :] some art and a small bit of story/dialouge :D sketch thing under cut

"Please, I-" the brunette falters, "I know you can help..."

She stares in what appears to be disinterest. the sun filters through his golden crown.

A glowing hand gestures for him to bring the red-head closer.

they hold a hand to clammy forehead, the room goes dark. like one of the fabled ghasts of the nether stole their fire back. Eret recites some kind of foreign stanza, Wilbur can see the wrinkle form above the king's shaded glasses as though in a trance.

Moments pass by.

Dots of light fade in and out of sight all around Eret's head.

The candles have returned to their previous burning state.

A soft breath of air tumbles from dry mouth.

Wilbur, looks into his son's open eyes.

Finally.

He did something right for once.

[snelbies]

my wife if you even care

[osseous-lesion]

[t4tpolypd]

There’s something scary about losing your scars, no? The only reminder you have about your old life

Everyone else drew the girl: unfortunately i cannot draw her well . So here!!!

@waddei @p0tato-kn1shes @gebder @airinyourtires @jrwiyuri @jrwiyaoi @poly-mechanisms if anyone else wants to be tagged!!!! Um!!!! Tell me pls . Anyway i only post on tumblr for waddei honestly because…. No one else sees my art that doesn’t see it in servers

[fernlessbastard]

guys, genuine question: should I be tagging my Wilbur posts as #wilbur/#wilbur soot, or just only as #c!wilbur/#c!wilbur soot?

all my drawings and writing and headcanons etc are strictly and exclusively about characters, obviously, but like, i don't know cause the tags that don't include 'c!' are more niche and less 'accessible', if that makes sense, but then i don't want to alienate people who blocked the "wilbur soot" tag, cause it's very understandable

Additionally it does seem that people are reclaiming the '#wilbur soot' tag? I'm not actively on it though so I'm not sure

like

the difference is pretty big

gonna be posting this twice - this one just with just 'c!', and the other with both 'c!' and general tag

Just please let me know your thoughts, comments and replies are highly appreciated

[qsmpbutwithsignlanguage]

What we have learned from Minecraft roleplaying these last three-four years (yes it's been that long):

If somebody wants to run for presidency, no they don't.

If somebody says you need a government, no you don't.

If somebody wants to stage a revolution, no they don't.

If that somebody is the same person, no they weren't.

You don't need politics in Minecraft for the love of god-when has it ever ended well??

[mysticalsoot]

someone to (not) watch me die

mistki and dsmp dr? tears.

➸ note; um so i got one too many dsmp crimeboys edits on my fyp that inspired this monstrosity. i don't often cry at whatever I write, especially while writing it but I'm still recovering so.. fair warning. its based off my dsmp dr with @lillylvjy so that's why its very very very canon adjacent. anyways, listen to I bet on losing dogs by mitski while reading (have it on repeat) if you want an extra lil sting. also I uh may have used this photo on a diff fic before but if I did, no I didn't!

➸ pairing; c!lmanbur x gn!reader

➸ summary; wilbur's been distant lately but when you finally convince him to spend some time with you, your life takes a dramatic turn. he doesn't always keep his promises.

➸ warning; hurt absolutely no comfort, MCD !!! incredibly implied suicide/assisted suicide (going into a battle knowing he's not coming back), swearing probably, overuse of baby (sue me), reader kinda wants to off themselves at the end but uh who wouldn't? implied age gap

➸ age-rating; 15+

➸ wordcount; 2k

main masterlist // part 2

it wasn't uncommon for wilbur to be distant with you, he always had his moments where he was less than loving. but he always had his moments, the nights where he'd come home after a day of work, crawling into bed and holding onto you like his life line. he'd kiss all over your face and murmur sweet words and praises, how much he loved and adored and appreciated you.

yet, the next day when you woke up, he'd be back in his office, working by lamplight and only responding with hums and refusing eye contact. it was torture for you. getting him again, held in your arms and so close to your heart only for him to walk away. to turn off his warmth and shove the cold into your face.

there came a day where you wouldn't seek him out anymore, you'd let him come to you if he so desired. but he often didn't, and when he would exist out of his office once in his adult life, he'd simply complain about the war or his enemies or his father or his brothers. if anything, more complaints slipped past his lips than a simple 'i love you'.

of course, you wondered if it was your fault, if you did something that turned him off from you, made him shut you out. yet you also wondered if he found you to be a bother, or something that only held him back. granted it was known he was a bit older than you, it didn't really matter but maybe it finally got to him. where he internalized it and thought it would lessen his chances of being elected or keeping office for the country of L'manburg. you thought it was stupid, but it wasn't so out of the picture.

the day started out like most others, you'd tend to yourself, eating and showering and doing something to keep your mind at peace. often baking or crafting, or going out to the flower fields to check on what has newly grown. you began to get restless, hearing wilbur from upstairs. he's pacing and mumbling to himself. most likely frustrated with something new, something he must be writing. something with lmanburg. something that has nothing to do with you.

but you want to mend things, you want to heal things or at least build a temporary bridge between the two of you. you're desperate for closeness again, and while you'd never admit it to him; you could never love another like he. you simply couldn't find the same type or amount of love in your heart for another person. another insane man like him.

so, you set out to pick a bouquet of his favorite flowers, pruning them and putting them in a vase you both made together early on in your relationship. you filled it with water and sugar, placing the cut flowers in the vase and tying a ribbon around the glass and making a bow before starting your trip up the stairs and into his office. you sigh softly before knocking on the door.

you hear shuffling for a moment, drawers opening and the sound of paper rustling before wilbur sighs deeply, "come in, love."

you open the door, stepping in and closing it behind you, his face held in his hands on his desk. he lifts his gaze to catch on you as you set the flowers on his desk. his gaze softens on you, almost sad and mournful and you can't quite place why.

a sour, sad smile curves on his lips, "what are those, dear?" he pats his thigh, beckoning you to him. he hasn't done that in months--but you'd be a fool to decline, so you quickly run over, sliding into his lap and resting against his chest.

"flowers for you," you sigh, nestling your nose against his neck, his hands coming up behind your head to rub at your hair.

"why, baby?" his voice cracks softly and he leans his face down to your cheek, kissing the soft skin before nuzzling his nose against the shell of your ear.

"a reminder that you can't throw me away," it comes out as more of a whine than you would have liked it to, but as always, you become vulnerable around him. there isn't much you can hide.

he's silent, his body tensing up at your words as he combs his fingers through your hair. his breath shakes, but he hides any emotion he must be feeling too well for you to pick it out.

"I haven't thrown you away. you're my baby, yes?" he croons softly, his lips ghosting over your temple and cheek, placing kisses as a silent truce.

"then why do I never see you?" you huff, pulling your body closer to his as a way to soak in the attention. or to receive comfort. you are his baby, but you aren't strong enough to admit it.

"I'm busy, that's all, love. I'm here now, aren't I?" he sucks in a breath after he speaks, hands now both in your hair and on your back, trying to give you that comfort you seek.

"you should come to bed earlier tonight. just.. I want you to be around me, for once."

you can tell he takes a moment to think, gears turning in his skull as his fingers trace on your back, ghosting over the skin.

"I can try," he breathes softly, his face in your hair, and his hand held on the back of your head.

"do you promise, wilbur?" you whisper, pressing your hands into his back.

"I promise," he kisses your forehead, holding your face in his hands as he keeps you in front of him, "I have some more work to do, I'll see you later, okay?"

he brushes stray strands of hair out of your face before placing a few kisses around your face, landing a final sweet kiss to your lips.

"okay, okay," you whisper, like a promise to yourself as you step out of his lap, walking to the door and standing there for a moment before turning to face him.

"enjoy the flowers. i love you, okay?" you smile softly, and he meets your eyes, an apology held in his irises that you can't quite register fully.

"I love you too. i will, I always do," he smiles sweetly, waving at you as you leave his office and head downstairs. you're partly thankful he has work for a bit more, you had plans of going to nikis bakery to pick up a few pastries for the two of you to share and your hope is that he'll be done by the time you're back. so you slip on your shoes and take the walk towards town square. it's nice today, the leaves are falling all ready to crunch under the feet of L'manburg's citizens. the wind brushes your cheeks, chilling the skin and bringing that familiar fall redness.

you always enjoyed fall walks, and it always brought you joy but the prospect of spending time with wilbur this evening put an extra pep in your step. you wave at any familiar face, smiling softly and greeting all of the sellers at their booths. you don't notice your sister not being at her flower shop, or Tommy not tending his fireworks stand in front of it. you don't notice many of the things that are painfully off about the day, your happiness clouding your judgement.

you quickly slip into nikis bakery, looking down at the case of the daily pastry specials, before choosing two of her cinnamon cookies and two of her pain au chocolat. they're both yours and wil's favorite, and while you'd adore sharing, wilbur is often possessive with his sweets. so it's best to get two of each.

you smile to yourself as Niki packages each pastry and she giggles at your happy demeanor.

"feeling extra peppy today, huh?" she smiles, ringing up the pastries and asking for payment. you pay quickly while nodding, smiling so wide and happy.

"yeah, I finally got Wilbur to agree to come to bed early. so I have plans for a bit of a date night. i just hope he sticks to his promises," you grin, taking the pastries gratefully into your hands.

"he sticks to his promises, when it comes to you. I have a good feeling," she nods as she speaks, a few moments later you both bid your farewells to one another; fully knowing you'll be back for a bread order on Sunday.

you took the long walk home, wanting to take in more of the nature around you, and to give wil some extra time to work. you knew he'd go over what he promised, but you hoped he'd pay his promise due.

plus, the scenic route was always more enjoyable. so the longer way will do, the flower fields grazing your ankles. the sun setting gently, casting a golden hue across the land, the soft shadows of buildings and trees painted on the grass. it was beautiful, almost like you were walking through a painting.

you finally made it home, opening the door and shutting it behind you. not noticing wil's work boots being gone from their spot on the rack. you giggled as you held the pastries in your hand, calling out for Wilbur.

"Wil? my love! i have sweets from Niki!" you hurried up the stairs, peeking into the bedroom before looking over the banister at the downstairs; nothing. you hum, walking over to his office, opening the door to still find anything but him.

you frown, "wilbur?" you call again, turning to walk out before your eyes catch on his desk, the now empty vase held on the desk without a flower in sight.

you looked closer, there on his desk laid a note and a rose from the bouquet you put there the same morning. you opened the note after a moments hesitation and you skimmed the words, eyes widening and tears falling as the message set in your mind.

'my darling,

you'll always be my baby.

yet, there's more for me, just not here.

- yours, wilbur.'

you dropped the pastries, and then the letter, slumping into his desk before shuffling through every single drawer and pile of papers. tears cascading down your cheeks.

"no, no, no, no-" you try desperately to convince yourself or a cruel joke, searching for more answers somewhere in his desk. it must be here, mustn't it? he was always one for dramatics so surely there's another secret note.

you spend the next hour tearing through his desk, tearing apart his office before you admit defeat. laying your head on his desk and letting yourself crack, you let it all out. tears and sobs and cries and screams bounce against the bookshelves that line the walls of his office.

there's a knock at the door, and after a moment of contemplation, you dazedly take the stairs down to the foyer, opening the door and being greeted by Phil. by Wil's father.

"Phil?" you start, ready to ask if he's here to tell you where wil is, that it's some sick joke he'll apologize for and never pull again-

"you know, don't you?" he pauses, avoiding your gaze, "we found his body, he left this for you."

he hands you an envelope and you take it, nodding to him as he speaks soft words of condolences and a goodbye. you shut the door, letting yourself fall against it as you stare at the folded envelope, wondering if it's worth the trouble to open.

what more could he possibly say?

but also, what more could it hurt?

you open it gingerly, sighing softly as you sniffle, wiping your eyes gently.

as you unfold the letter, out comes a wedding band, tied by string to another ring.

the ring you told him you wanted as your wedding band.

it clatters to the floor and you break again, letting out loud, pained sobs as you cry and shake on the floor, eyes unable to peel themselves from the rings that now lay on the hardwood below.

the note falls beside the metal rings, a simple phrase scratched into the parchment; 'in another life, my baby'

you want to burn it, to scream and curse the universe.

but then you wonder how much trouble it'd be to join him.

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