My dear.

!TW! Death, suicide, ugly crying !TW!

700+ words

dsmp school au

She sat there in silence. What did she do wrong? Why did everyone she loves leave?

“Hello?” She heard from a distance, she recognized the voice. It broke her heart. Silent tears race down her face. “Oh my, are you alright!” The voice says to her. She can see his feet floating in front of her. As y/n looks up, she sees him.

“Wilbur?” She whispers not wanting it to be true, he can’t be dead.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” He says, his ghostly voice echoing around the room. With these words she breaks, sobs cracking out of her like a whip. Wilbur’s ghostly form moves to help her, attempting to wipe the tears from her face a hissing sound emits from his hand. The tears dissolved his fingers, he stared at where his fingers once were. Her sobs softened when she realized what she did. She did this, she hurt him. 

“I’m sorry, it seems I can’t help you,” Wilbur says in a soft voice. She looks at him, her eyes and nose red and swollen.

“I missed you. Every day, it seems like it’s been a lifetime without you.” She murmurs. “It’s only been a few days my dear,” he responds.

“I thought you didn’t recognize me, why are you calling me your dear?”

“Because this isn’t real, it’s in your head and you know it. He would never come back for you, he never loved you. It was jointly to hope from the beginning,” he says, a calm smile adorning his face. The same face that called her worthless, useless, nothing, a nobody.

“I know, he never loved me. I got that from the start. I just wished to whatever could hear me, maybe, just maybe, it was a lie.”

“There was no lying, you fell for someone who could never love you back. It’s time for us to go, my dear, the sun is rising.”

Y/n wakes up to her alarm, ignoring it she walks over to her mirror. Seeing the reflection she sees him behind her. Whipping her head around she sees him.

“It’s time for us to go, don’t you want to see me again, my dear.” He says, the same comforting smile on his face as she always saw at school.

She got ready for the day, getting dressed,  eating, grabbing her bag, and driving to school. As she gets there she feels the eyes on her. She goes through her normal day as if nothing happened at the last bell of the day, he shows up.

“My dear, what is taking you so long?” He says floating over her.

“I want to see the sunset before it’s time,” she whispered.

“I see, I will meet you there.” He vanishes.

The final bell rings, she packs up and makes her way through the crowd of people, and to the roof. The wired fence glaring at her in the light of the sun that is slowly setting. She sees him there, waiting, just as he promised her.

“Hello, my dear. It’s time now.”

“Yes of course.”

She drops her bag and takes her shoes off. Carefully setting them next to the edge. Seeing the people below her, some are shouting others are recording. She sees his friends in the crowd but not him. Quirking her head to the side she looks more. After a moment she realized, I could be stopped if I don’t hurry now. Climbing the fence holding onto it as she sees the sunset for the last time, closing her eyes. Smiling, she hears the roof four open but it’s too late she fell. Turning, as if in slow motion she sees him, not the ghost, but him. He is here. He cares. He grabs her arm through the fence stopping her for a moment but not enough. And she falls, they make eye contact. She sees him say ‘I’m sorry.’ Tears fall upwards as she finally makes contact with the floor. With a thud and muffled screams, everything goes dark.

“Welcome, my dear. I missed you so,”

She hugs him but can’t feel anything.

“Am I being taken back?”

“I’m afraid so, my love, I will never forget you. Y/n.”

—–

Thank you for reading, I’m back! I’m trying to get myself to write again so maybe this will work! <3

(:

The Fort

!TW! Nothing <3 !TW!

——

It was late, far past their bedtime. The twins, Wilbur and Y/n, we’re still up.

“Will,” Y/n whispers.

“Yeah?” Wilbur whispers back.

“I’m bored,”

“What am I supposed to do about that?”

Y/n flings their head down the ladder of their bunk bed, “I don’t know let’s do something,” they say, staring at Will from the top bunk.

“Like what? Dadza might hear us,” Will said, sitting up to face Y/n.

“Hmmm… oh I know!” Y/n exclaims.

“Shhhhhh,” the elder twin whispers.

“Sorry,” Y/n says quieter.

“What were you going to say?”

“We should build a fort!” Y/n says, their excitement clear on their face.

Wilbur thinks about it for a moment before nodding his head with a smile. Y/n grins at this and hops off the bed, landing with a small thud. Wilbur goes off to grab a blanket, whilst Y/n grabs a camping lantern. Their window is dark, nothing but the moon shining through.

“Alright, now how are we going to get chairs without someone hearing?” Will said once he finished grabbing every blanket he saw.

“Hmmm, good question…” Y/n says, tapping their lip. “I’ve got it, we put it on a blanket so it doesn’t make a sound!” Y/n exclaimed, smacking their fist to their hand.

“Alright let’s do it!” Will said, now burning with excitement. Y/n scrambles over to the door.

“Shhhhhhh..” both of the twins say at each other. Wilbur takes the lead, pressing the door handle all the way down, then opens the door as quietly as possible. Their feet making slight tap sounds as the twins sneak into the kitchen to, hopefully, kidnap a chair. Grabbing the chair the two small children lift it off of the ground. Waddling into their room, they set it onto the ground trying to make as little sound as possible.

Creeeeaaaak… the twins freeze, someone was up. Whipping their head at each other then back at the door, they stare in horror. Almost like in slow motion the door handle moves and the door is slowly opened. Standing at the door is none other than…… Techno.

“What are you two doing it is too late for you to be up,” Techno whisper scolds, the ten-year-old not wanting to get in trouble himself.

“We were just uh…” Wilbur starts, sweating nervously.

“G-getting water then going back to bed… yeah t-that’s what we were doing. That’s what was happening.” Y/n says, stuttering with the lie.

“And there is a chair in your room why?” Techno asks, not impressed with the pathetic lie.

“Ummm, no reason,” they say in unison. Looking back and forth between the chair, the pile of blankets, and the twins he starts putting it all together.

“Oh, I see what’s happening here…”

“Y-you do?” the twins say nervously.

“Yes, I want in.” Y/n and Wilbur share a glance at each other than nod.

“You’re in.” and they set to work. Techno due to being taller than the twins was in charge of setting the blankets on the “hooks”, Will and Y/n were setting up the hooks and giving Techno the blankets to set up.

After way too long, they finally step back from their work. The fort covers half of the room. With an excited squeal, Y/n crawls into the fort, Wilbur, and Techno following close behind. They get settled into a circle, pillows, and blankets surrounding them, a flashlight in the middle.

“Now what?” Techno asks the two. Wilbur looks over at Y/n since it was their plan after all.

“Ummm, not sure didn’t think we would make it this far,” they admit.

“Well, how about scary stories?” Will suggests.

“Good idea squirt, I’ve got a good one,” Techno says with a smirk. “Once upon a time, there were two kids that stayed up wayyy past their bedtime, and their super-cool older brother let them stay up just a bit longer. But the kids didn’t want to go back to sleep and then they were cursed and had to stay up forever! They went insane and cried to their brother saying ‘im sorry we didn’t go to bed when you said!’ their brother forgave them and they finally went to bed. And they lived a good life listening to their super cool brother Happily Ever After.”

“That sucked Tech,” Y/n said with a straight face.

“Ouch you hurt me so, now go to bed it’s like 1 in the morning,” Techno says leaving the fort.

“But we aren’t even-” the twins try to say only to get cut off by their own yawns.

“But you’re not even what, tired?” Techno says, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“Fine,” The twins grumble, crawling out of the fort and onto their beds. Techno tucks them in and pats their head before slipping out of the door, back into his room. Techno falls onto his bed and is out like a light. The twins, Techno, Tommy, and Phil are all fast asleep once more.

—–

I’m so sorry for being gone so long, it’s just so hard to get motivated, but I hope you enjoyed I liked writing this one. <3 (:

Where is Home?

Vilbur and Reader pt 7

!TW! Death, shouting, mentions of dismemberment, nightmares!TW!

Word count: 1400+

Summary: The two worlds merge, Tommy is put in safety by Y/n, but he is never truly home. Where is his home?

-

—–

Tommy’s POV

I am meeting with Y/n today.

I trek over the hills, looking over the ruins of what was L'manburg. Ranboo and the others have been cautious about me leaving ever since the ‘illness’. Not like I will be telling them about Y/n, I think scoffing.

Walking a while longer I sneak into the cave.

“Tommy! So glad you could make it!” I hear Y/n’s ghostly voice echo. I feel their freezing arms hold me from behind.

“Good to see you again little bro!” I smile proudly at how they addressed me, wait.

“I AM NOT LITTLE YOU TAKE THAT BACK I AM A BIG MAN,” I shout my face scrunching up in distaste.

“Of course your not Tommy,” they say floating in front of me. Seeing their ghost haze in front of me, I look at the details. Their now longer hair reaching past their ears, the bags under their eyes darker than before, their body growing. Realizing that this is not normal with a ghost I go to ask a question.

Almost as if noticing my questioning face they say, “Tommy there will be many things happening soon. I have something I wish to ask of you.”

“Yeah, whatever it is! I will have your back!” I say standing taller with pride, that they came to me for help.

Smirking at my answer Y/n floating in front of me, “I will be needing you to stay here to not get in the crossfire.” Crossfire? Nodding my head, they smile and pat my head.

-

Y/n POV

leaving Tommy I go to the room, “it’s time my friends,” they nod, dispersing to do their respective tasks. As I travel into the egg, switching my ghostly form to the host. Skeppy, who is now red rather than blue, stares at me. A small smile forming on his face.

“Is it time?” He questions.

“It is now, are you ready?”

“As always,” he says, kneeling, arm crossed his chest.

-

3rd POV

Every one of the Smp had heard the noise, it was a cracking sound. They had run to the egg hoping it wasn’t doing what they hoped. Bad, Ant, Sam, and Puffy we’re found kneeling to the egg in two rows. Bad Ant and Sam on one side. Sam and Puffy to the other. The egg was hatching.

“Ī̶̢͎͎̠̘̫͑̈̈́̽͐̿̕͘ţ̶̼͍͔̥̞̎̓̀͛́̐̏̂́̄̂̊͜͝ͅ ̴͎͊̀́͗̈́́̍̈̓͝ͅm̷͈͇̟̜̖͍̪͔̦̏̽̓̒̍̀̅͝a̴͔̖̞͉̹̣̥̲̼̒͑̔̏̽͒̐̕ͅk̶͙̫̠̹̼͐͋͊̿̈́̎̈́̿e̸̢̨̙͖͓͔͎̥̯̝̭͓̳̔̏͊̑̆̒̅̊̈̚š̶͈́͜ ̸̣͕̲͇̲̦̼̙̥̻̯̞̻͈͇̾́͛̇͠ṷ̷̧͖̈́͒́͋̇͊̕͘s̸̤͒̇̽̍̿̓̀̾͜͝ ̵̨̛͚̟̯͍̹̮̠͇͖̥̞͑̑̀̌́̀͌̇͑͒̔͗͘͝ͅģ̵͈̙̗̰͖͙̲̠͛̈́͒̾̊̅̀͝o̸̡̱̘̮̙̳̖̻̮̬͔̙͋̃̂̈́̔̓̎̄̾̔̑̚͜ͅ ̷̛͍̦̞̤̮̮̝̥̟̇̂͗͛̇͗̃̀̎̂̐̚̚͝b̷̭͙̳̫͎̯̦͍̮̝́̈̐̂̋̅̋͜͠͝l̴̬̼͐͛̓̐̍ī̵̡̮̙̮̞͈̮̮̆͐̽͛̕n̷̥͙͂̆̚͘͜d̷̛̛͔̝͐̽̿̐̇͠”

Bad, Ant, Sam, and Puffy say in unison. They lower themselves onto the ground, in a kneeling position. A huge chunk of egg fell crushing one of the old L'manburg citizens. Realizing what is happening the people of the SMP start running away and screaming. Finally, once the egg has fully hatched they see what they wish they didn’t. Skeppy was red and mean-looking. He was very different from the nice, funny, and sarcastic blue Skeppy they were used to. Expecting Skeppy to walk out of the egg he has spent now more than 3 months in, he steps to the side, bowing.

Y/n exits the egg, revived by the power the egg has bestowed them. They had a black cloak with a red vine design. Their hair had a white streak through it. They had a netherite axe strapped to their back with a golden strap.

“I’m back,” they announce, arms spread wide.

- Timeskip -

Phil’s POV

My crows were coming in huge flocks, which is very unusual, they said something big has happened. Trusting them they say they will take me to the ‘egg’ thing people have been talking about, I’ve heard some bad things from the others. Ranboo decided to join me, he said he needs something to do. Tubbo has been having awful nightmares ever since… well since the accident. But because of Tubbo having nightmares, it has been waking Ranboo every night. He describes Tubbo after a nightmare like he was running for his life. Rather odd. We make it to the egg after a small trip, much faster than anyone would think, due to nether portals.

-

Tubbo’s POV

Tommy is running down the hall, Ranboo, and I not far behind. We are trying desperately to get away from the creature. Ranboo gets caught, his leg is grabbed. I screamfor him, but it’s too late the creature has him; we have to keep running.

“TUBBO COME ON,” Tommy yells, seeing another creature emerging from the darkness.

“WE AREN’T GOING TO MAKE IT!” I scream, seeing the door is almost closed. We lock eyes with the people inside the room. Karl, Dream, Foolish, Sam, Ant, Quackity, Phil, Techno, and Y/n. They are yelling for us to hurry, we might not make it in time. The door is almost closed. Tommy and I are almost there, another creature appears next to Tommy. The creature with its long spindly arms, bones ligaments, and flaking skin grabs Tommy. It’s too late.

“TOMMY!” I cried out, seeing the look of horror on Tommy’s face before he was dragged away. My arm was grabbed by Y/n and brought into the safety of the almost closed vault.

BANG. The vault is closed, I am safe. Tommy and Ranboo have been taken. It is too latenow.

THUMP, everyone inside looks through the window on the vault door. SLAM, a mutilated and torn apart Ranboo and Tommy.

I let out a cry that would be described to be able to pierce the heavens.

Ranboo’s eyes open on his head, his eyes white. He chants in a scratchy voice, “Tubbo.” Over and over again. Pressing his hands to his floppy ears, tears flowing freely down his face

“Tubbo,” his eyes shoot open, he is not in the vault. He is at home in his bed. Ranboo, desperately trying to wake the sobbing man, comes to an end when I jump up, sweat dripping down his forehead, his heart racing as if he had just run for his life, paler than Dream’s a porcine mask.

“Ranboo I-I was so scared,” I cry, a sob ripping through my throat.

“Oh, Tubbo. You should still be scared.”

“W-what?!” I stumble through my words, feeling claws pierce through my back, nearly missing my spin. I screamat the bone-crunching rip as my bad is torn apart. Ranboo drops me to the ground, he has the horrid spindly, and flakey body of the monster, his eyes glowing a bright purple.

“W-why,” I sputter out, falling onto the ground.

Gasping awake again, this time no one is around. No chance to die again. I sit up and put my arms around my head, trying to calm my breathing. Hearing a second breathing close by, I hold my light gasps.

“W-who’s th-ere??” My voice quivering. I hear, a gasp before seeing a trembling Michael peek around the doorway.

“Is Dad ok now, he was making scary noises earlier,” relaxing and saddening that I was scaring Michael.

“Oh I’m sorry bud, come here, I can make it better.” He cautiously walks in and scrambles up the bed. I grab him and settle my son on my lap.

“Is dad ok?” Michael questions.

“Yes, I just had a bad dream,” I explain, calming down knowing my son is safe.

-

Tommy’s POV

It has been a while since Y/n has left and told me to stay here. They said it might be a while.

SHING. I hear a sound, grabbing my sword, and go to investigate. Looking in the room I heard the sound from I find what looks like a portal. It is gold and red. These are Y/n’s favorite colors. As I am about to enter the room it starts letting off sparks and glowing brighter. As the light fades to the back once more, I unshielded my eyes.

Standing there dressed in gold and red, the twins are back and a lot taller. The now 7'4" twins stand there Will with his sword and Y/n with their signature axe. My eyes going wide, it has been 3 years since I have seen them alive. Tears staining my face once more.

“Well he looks excited to see us,” Will says, nudging Y/n softly.

“Of course he is he has only been waiting 3 years,” They say, smirking proudly.

“So Toms, how ‘ave you been,” They say simultaneously, each reaching a hand towards me. I run at them in a hug. Will makes a small ‘oofing’ sound. I can practically hear Y/n’s eyes making fun of Will. They pull me in, just like the old days, when the days were long and filled with adventures. Despite Phil and Techno never being home.

I had found home once again.

—–

(:

Thank you for reading! Hope y'all have a good day/night. Don’t be shy with requests!

Ps. The nightmare part is based off of a nightmare I had a couple of nights ago!

For the next chapter, I will be releasing it soon. The egg story and the Vilbur and reader story. If you have not figured it out are the same story and characters.

(:

The dreamscape.

Vilbur and Reader pt. 6

!TW! freezing, manipulation, yelling, violence, mentions of blood, feral Tommy!TW!

Hope you enjoy <3

Art credit to: @elevenshaze on twt

—–

Tubbo’s POV

I know I am dreaming, I can hear Phil pacing around the room. Soon his pacing fades away.

-entering the dream state-

The sun rests just over the horizon, Tommy is here. We are on the hill that overlooks L'manburg.

“Hey, big man?”

“Yeah what’s up?” Tommy answers.

“Will we get our happily ever after? Everyone is talking about how they work towards their happy ending. But I just can’t seem to see the end.” I say brushing my hair away from my eyes.

“There is no ending because there was never a beginning,” Tommy says, his voice getting scratchy.

“What do you mean,” I ask, turning to look at him. His eyes are the void and a smile is etched into his face. No! NO! DREAM CANT TAKE HIM FROM ME! please…

-

Waking up with a start. Sweat dripping down my face, my breathing erratic, and shaking all over. Phil, with a concerned look on his face, swiftly walks up to me.

“Are you alright mate, you look like you just had a nightmare,” Phil says softly, sitting down next to me and rubbing circles on my back. I open my mouth but no words come out, my mind racing from what I saw.

“It’s ok you don’t need to talk about it. Go be with Ranboo, he was worried about you.” Nodding, I shakily stand. Walking cautiously down the stairs I make it to the kitchen. Collecting myself I look around for Ranboo. Nope, not in the kitchen, not in the living room. Though Techno is when he notices me peeking into the room he points to the porch. Stepping over to the door I bring it open and looking out. Seeing Ranboo playing with Michael, a lazy smile adorned his face. Smiling softly to myself I walk outside fully and close the door, getting their attention.

“Dad!” Michael yells, wobbling up to his feet he shuffles towards me.

“Hello buddy, how are you?” I ask resting Michael in my lap after I sit down in one of the rocking chairs on the front porch.

“Good, Papa called some people over. Mister Pink looked at me weirdly and Mister Green told Papa to relax so he played with me out here while you were sleeping! We played all these fun games…” my son’s voice settling into the background, he thought I was sleeping and Techno saw him… “and then I saw you and you were awake and here!” Michael says finishing his story.

“That’s nice, now I need to talk to your Papa for a moment, would you go inside with Phil?” I ask, voice cracking slightly.

“Ok, Dad see you later!” Michael says, jumping up and running inside. We wait a few moments, I’m still sitting on the ground, the cold of the snow no longer bothering me.

-

Ranboo’s POV

I look over at Tubbo when Michael runs inside. His eyes are glassy, and he is still on the ground. After a moment I walked over to him. Sitting down next to him I pull him into a hug. I feel him start to cry, it burns into my chest, but I don’t complain. Comforting him I feel myself starting to cry as well. My tears cascading down my face, sizzling and burning down my face. It is snowing now. Tubbo and I don’t care anymore, we grasp onto each other and start sobbing. Tubbo let out a cry, one you would hear from someone who just got the news that their last hope had passed.

-

3rd person POV

Techno is watching the two broken children cry into each other from the window. Something in him breaks in him as well. They shouldn’t be in this life of violence, they’re only kids. And yet they had suffered so much. He thinks shaking his head. Started when he hears the most heart-wrenching scream from Tubbo. His eyes tearing up, he turns away and walks up to the room where Tommy lays. Phil has long since left the room to comfort Michael. Looking over Tommy, he notices all the details of what had happened. Tommy’s lips were dark purple, his exposed skin looked like icy veins crawling up his body, Tommys breathing slow and labored. He is not much better than when Ranboo found him. We don’t know why he isn’t getting better. Niki should be on her way, unfortunately, she lives far away from Ranboo and Tubbo’s house.

Knock knock knock. Phil upon hearing this sets Michael down on the bed, the young child having fallen asleep. Hears the knock and makes his way downstairs. Opening the door, letting Niki inside.

“So where is Tommy? I saw Tubbo was awake.” She mentions, taking her winter coat and winter gear off. Grabbing the satchel that was under the coat.

“Good to see you again mate, follow me,” Phil says waving his hand towards the stairs. As they make their way up the stairs Niki is looking around, looking for clues to what had happened to the boys. Phil stops at the door opening it for Niki.

“He’s on the bed over there,” Phil mutters, refusing to make eye contact or look in the room. Niki looks at Phil with sympathy in her eyes before entering. Walking in closing the door softly behind her. Techno once he saw her stood up, knowing her past and her hate against Tommy. Pulling out his ax in a defensive stance.

“Woah, calm down I’m only here to help. Phil called me in,” Niki says, trying to calm Techno. Slowly lowering his defensive stance in front of Tommy, who is effectively dying without treatment.

-

Niki’s POV

As I cautiously approach Tommy, I can see the damage of whatever had been done to him. His lips are dark plum and black near the center, his ears are blue and black, his hair was stiff from what seems like the cold Ranboo found him in, his breathing is more like wheezing and pained. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Focusing my eyes back on Tommy I grab the bag that I had brought with me. Opening it I grab my book, my candles, and a heater. Looking over at Techno I ask, “Would you put some coal in here,” I hand him the heater. He looks skeptical about it before doing what I asked. As he loaded coal into it, I pulled out my book looking through various supernatural creatures before finding what I was looking for.

“Here!” I shout, after a while, startling Techno. “Sorry,” I say softly when he glares at me.

Hearing a thundering sound running up the stairs, Phil bursts into the room, “Do you know what caused this?!” Phil says frantically. Techno being confused at the question looks between Niki and Phil expectantly.

“He means what creature caused this,” I explain, “I’m a mob expert.”

“HUH! Since when?”

“She has been for a while… Anyway, that’s not the point.” Phil says.

“Yes, Phil is right. I found what caused this. It says here-” I say, pointing at a page in my book,”- the only thing that could have caused this would be… A spectator aka a ghost essentialy.” Once I say that Phil and Techno’s eyes go wide and they stare at each other, then Tommy. Their eyes are filled with confusion and terror. And then the realization hit me, we only have two ghosts, and both of them were close to the young boys. But they wouldn’t do this… would they?

-

Tommy’s POV

-entering the dream state-

It is warm here, I remember it was cold earlier. Why was it cold again? Eh doesn’t matter now that I am warm. A new wave of heat cascades through me, thawing my body into comfort. I am calm, wow when was the last time that happened. Maybe when Tubbo and I were building our bench, Techno and Wilbur watched our back. It was the most peaceful week of work… ever I think.

“Hello?” I hear an echo crossing the room.

“Hello, who are you?” I question back to the voice, not bothering to open my eyes.

“Tommy is that you?” I hear, starting to recognize the voice. Snapping my eyes open, I look around in search of the voice. Y/n they are here, I want to see them again. I miss them.

“Y/n? Where are you?”

“I’m right over here Tommy,” they say. I turn around and see them, glowing with their arm stretched towards me, a soft welcoming smile decorated their face. Rushing over to them I tackle them into a hug, crying slightly.

“Hello Big man,” they say softly, engulfing the smaller in a hug. I smile through the tears that are free-falling down my face.

“I missed you Y/n,” I say, my voice heavy with emotion. Finally, I reluctantly pull away from the hug.

“I have something important to tell you, Tommy…” Y/n says, eyes going downcast and glossing over. “They are trying to take you from me,” their voice growing softer, as I grow more confused and I furrow my brows.

“Who is trying to take you? I want to stay with you.” I say, standing my ground ready to fight anyone who gets in my way of being with my sibling I was forced to lose.

“They are Tommy you have to stop them…” their voice fading away more as I am being pulled away from them.

“No! Stop! I want to go back! Y/n!” I yelled, reaching desperately towards them, despite me being pulled away.

Waking with a start, all of the warmth from the dreamscape gone. Niki, Techno, and Phil standing over me. They are smiling. Why do they get to be happy? I just want to go home, the place where I belong. With Y/n, Will, Tubbo, and L'manburg. The good days.

“How are you feeling?” Phil asks, my head slowly turning towards him. I throw myself at him, clawing at him. I get a handful of feathers and his hat before Techno and Niki pull me off of him with my arms behind my back. I hear an animalistic growl until I realize it is coming from me. Not that I care they were the ones trying to take me away from Y/n. Phil, who has now fallen onto the floor. Looking at me in shock. I feel my lips curl up to bare my teeth and growl once again.

“Niki what’s happening?!” Techno shouts frantically, as I struggle from their grasp. I hear people storming up the stairs. Tubbo and Ranboo slam the door open. They see me and I’m not sure what sparked it but I think it was looking at Ranboo, I never liked him, he took away my friend, and now he is here for Y/n as well. With newfound strength, I launch myself at Ranboo, ripping my grasp away from Techno and Niki. I go to attack him only to be hit with something and thrown off to the side. Looking at where the item was thrown I see a shaking Niki, standing on all fours I growl at them. My hybrid features on display. My tail swishing behind me defensively, my razor-sharp canines bared at all of them, the two joints on my legs ripping through my pants near the joints.

“Hey… Tommy, Big man calm down…” Tubbo says cautiously sidestepping towards me, in response, I let out an unnerving growl that makes everyone flinch in response.

“Niki! What is going on!” Techno growls, furiously.

“I don’t know this isn’t supposed to happen! Though there is a chance that the spector had said something to him!” she says, looking through her book frantically trying to find an answer.

“What do you mean! There is a chance! What could they have said” Phil yells, I ignore them focusing on Ranboo. Tensing my legs and lowering myself onto the ground I feel something fall from my mouth.

“Umm… Phil what is dripping from his mouth,” Tubbo asks, voice quivering. Suddenly everyone’s attention is on me again. I let out another growl, more of the goop falling from my mouth, looking at it this time I see it is a black-looking slime. Hearing someone step closer to me, my head snaps at them. I let out a roar. Tubbo and Niki are staring at me in fear, Phil is staring in shock, and Techno in distress. I lunge at Ranboo once more this time reaching for his horn with the reached ring on it. Tubbo shrieks when he sees what I’m going for, and he jumps at me. I make it to my target and start yanking on his horn trying to rip it off, so he will let me see Y/n again. Tubbo hits me off, falling to the floor with a whimper. Techno and Phil rush to restrain me, Niki rushes to Ranboo to check on what I hurt. I see Ranboo reach for his horn and realize the ring is gone.

“My ring is gone! Did it fall off!?” Ranboo asks, I plant myself onto the ground. It’s not like I needed to, I have two people keeping me on the ground. Smirking, I look Ranboo in the eyes.

“Tommy where is it!” He yells at me, part of his jaw unhinging. I close my mouth tighter, locking my jaw. 

“Guys… I think it’s in his mouth.” Tubbo says, noticing my jaw tense.

“How? We didn’t see it?!” Niki says, baffled. She runs over to Techno and Phil, something in her hand.

I feel something cold touch my neck as the world fades to dark.

-entering dreamscape-

“Tommy are you ok?!” I hear Y/n yell when they see the state I’m in.

“I wanted to come back… they are the enemy…” I mumble my words slurred.

“Ah… I see what happened. I’m so glad you came back,” they say, picking me up into a soft warm hug. Just like Mum used to do. Feeling the familiar warmth return.

“Don’t worry Big man I will protect you,” they say. I feel warmth flood my being and patterns scorchinginto my body. I didn’t mind though it felt nice.

“They’re going to sting when you wake once more, but don’t worry I will always be here when you go to sleep.” I nod limply.

“Want to see them?” Parking up at this I nod once more, not finding the energy to speak. A mirror appears in front of me. I have marks up and down my back and arms. They have symbols that look like, “⋔⊬ ⌿⎍⌿⟟⌰” I feel myself fading out of dream world into a deep sleep.

“Y/n would you stay with me?”

“Of course my pupil.”

(:

—–

Thank you for reading, don’t be shy if you have a recommendation

It all comes together. Vilbur and Reader pt 5

!TW! Freezing, mentions of harm, mentions of violence, trauma, dying, almost deaths, cursing !TW!

Got this done faster then anticipated check out my last post if you wanna make any inferences on what happened (:

Ranboo’s POV

It was a normal day for Ranboo, he had done some mining earlier that day, but something still just felt… wrong. He couldn’t put his finger on it. As he heads his way home he sees Tommy in the distance.

“Hey Tommy, what are you doing out in the cold!” I shout jogging at him. There is going to be a snowstorm later, I don’t want Tommy to be caught in it, that would be very dangerous and I wouldn’t be a good friend if I abandoned him.

Turning around I gasp, his lips are purple and his nose is almost black with frostbite, “S-sorry Ranb-boo I g-got an l-little lost-t.” He stutters out.

“Oh my come in, you need to warm up,” I say, picking Tommy up as he starts to go limp. I will have to talk to Tubbo about this later. Rushing towards the house, I quickly open the door and set Tommy on the couch next to the fireplace. Running around trying to find warm things and lighters. Finally finding a match, I light the fireplace. Running upstairs to get some blankets, I find them and scramble back downstairs. I make sure Tommy is comfortable, I feel bad. Everyone is living lavish lives and the youngest of us all is out here dying alone. Getting the blankets around Tommy and the fire roaring as hot as I could make it, I start to boil some water for hot chocolate when he wakes up. Hearing a clicking of paws behind me I look around.

“Papa, why are you running around?” I hear my son ask.

“Well a dear friend of mine is in trouble right now and I needed things to help him.” I try to explain without my voice shaking too much.

“Where is dad?” Michael asks. Looking around I realize Tubbo should’ve been home by this point.

“I’m not sure, would you like to look for him?” I say, not thinking straight, rushing to make sure Tommy doesn’t die.

“Ok bye bye Papa.”

“Bye sweety,” I say, grabbing some more blankets.

-

Michaels POV

Papa seemed busy, but he did say I could look for Dad. Looking through Papa and Dad’s room I don’t see anything. Oh, what is that? I grab it. It’s pretty I will show Papa later. Grabbing my stuffed cow Uncle Tommy gave me I wandered around trying to find Dad. I make it to the basement. Papa and Dad always said not to go down here… but Dad also said I could find Papa. Climbing down the latter I make it to the basement. Looking around the rows of chests I see Papa, he is on the ground. Oh well, I’m tired, maybe he was just tired too. Snuggling up with Papa’s arm over me I fall asleep.

-

3rd Person POV

When Tommy is in a stable condition Ranboo is looking around for Michael.

“Michael?” He says, looking around the house. He said he was going to find Tubbo where could he have gone, right as he thinks this he notices the open trapdoor to the basement. Furrowing his eyebrows he goes down the latter, “Michael?” He calls again. Peeking around the row of chests he sees Micheal with Tubbo on the ground. Panic strikes his heart when he sees that Tubbo is looking the same way Tommy was when Ranboo found him. Rushing to the pair he checks Tubbo’s pulse. It is weak but there. Picking up both Tubbo and Michael, he scrambles up the ladder. Getting to Ranboo and Tubbo’s room he sets Tubbo down gently, scooping Michael out of Tubbo’s reach he thinks to himself, how did this even happen? It’s not cold in the basement, how could Tubbo have almost died. And the same way Tommy almost did, seems too much of a coincidence. Getting the heating blanket out and resting it on Tubbo. He runs to set Michael in his room. Grabbing Tommy on the way back, he sets Tommy on the bed with Tubbo. Getting them as warm as possible, he pulls out his communicator. Dialing Techno and Phil.

“Hello,” Techno says.

“Hey mate what’s up.” Phil chimes in

“Something is happening and I don’t know what I need your help please as fast as you can!” I speak in a hushed rush, afraid to wake the boys.

“Woah slow down mate, what’s happening?!” Phil says concerned for the monochromatic man.

“Please just hurry,” Ranboo says, dropping the communicator to the floor, and rushing back to Tommy and Tubbo. Their condition is getting better… I think?

Over with Phil and Techno who are both equally confused and worried, already on their way over.

Making it to the young couple’s house, they knock furiously on the door.

“Shhh, come in hurry,” Ranboo says, opening the door.

The two look at each other briefly before walking in.

“This way,” Ranboo says, motioning towards his shared bedroom. The others gasp at the sight. Both boys laid on the bed noses black at this point but slowly turning purple. A good sign?

“What happened,” Phil says, concerned about the boys who were like his family.

“I found Tommy wandering outside, he didn’t even have anything protecting him from the cold. And when I thought Tommy was stable I went to look for Michael who was looking for Tubbo when I wasn’t watching. Tubbo was passed out on the ground in the basement.” He explains, grabbing more logs for the fireplace.

“How did this even happen? They would’ve found help before it got too bad!” Phil says exasperated.

“Yes Tommy may be dumb but not stupid,” Techno adds, equally confused. I taught him how to survive when he was younger he couldn’t have forgotten.

“I’m not sure everything should’ve been fine. I’m not sure what’s happened. I just need your help for now, until we can figure this out.

"Of course, I will call up Niki because she is better at taking care of people. Techno, you make sure they don’t die. Ranboo, rest a little we don’t want anything happening to you.” Ranboo nodding his head goes to Michael’s room to rest with his son, after being so stressed. Techno sets his cape on the ground, bringing a chair over at the end of the bed. Watching over them closely, every flinch of Tubbo’s ram ears to the flick of Tommy’s fluffy raccoon tail. Phil left for the porch, calls up Niki.

“Niki? Are you here?” Phil asks, his frozen breath escaping his mouth as he talks.

“Yes, is there something the matter Phil?” Niki replies, her voice hinted with worry.

“You know things about the creatures of the SMP… right?”

“Yes… do you need me to look at something?” She hesitantly asks.

“Something happened to Tommy and Tubbo. I think you should take a look. We are at Ranboo and Tubbo’s house?" 

Phil hears shuffling from the other line and hears. "On my way.” Coming from Niki.

-

Y/n’s POV

Floating overhead I see Dream make his way to the egg and Niki to the cabin.

“Good, When there’s no more room in hell, the dead will walk the earth, and here I am. Soon I will make everything better.”

—–

Thank you for reading! If you have a suggestion don’t be shy! Let me know if there are any errors

(:

For anyone who will be confused about the pt 5 I will be posting within a few days.

The longer Y/n stays in the overworld the more people can hear them, hybrids can hear the ghosts better and sooner then most. Don’t forget Tubbo is a hybrid.

Have fun!

Sneak peak to what will be happening in the tags!

(:

Phantom Of The Opera: Chapter 2

(Techno x Reader x Wilbur)

Dream snickered holding a noose around his neck, all the ballet girls began to scream and squeal in fear. The smile on his face was teasing and mischievous, “You know I know the Phantom personally.”

“Bullshit,” Tommy grunted sitting on what was normally considered your bed, Ranboo sat beside him nodding his head in agreement. 

 “No one asked you, Tommy!” One of the young girls scoffed sticking her tongue out at him, “Go on Dream tell us more about the Phantom!” She gushed young eyes twinkling in delight. 

“His skin is a pale yellow, like parchment paper. There’s a great black hole where his nose should be, and he has monstrous tusks that he uses to tear people’s flesh from their bones.” He made his hands into claws swiping them at the girls who squealed in response. “Remember girls, you must always be on your guard less he snatches you with his magic lasso!” He explained tugging the nose around his neck, “you must always keep your hand above the level of your eyes.” He urged inserting his hand between his neck and his noose, he grunted as Phil entered the room and whacked him with his cane. 

“Those who speak of what they know find, too late, that prudent silence is wise. Dream, hold your tongue he will burn you with the heat of his eyes…” He grunted, “Lights out.”

Quackity sat in disbelief his eyes scanning over the newspaper that sat in his lap, hair falling over his eyes. Schlatt was on the otherside of the room with a cigarette between his teeth listening to Quackity read the paper. “Mystery after gala night, it says, Mystery of soprano’s flight! Mystified baffled Surete say, we are mystified - we suspect foul play!” Quackity growled in disbelief crumpling the paper between his hands. “I guess it’s bad news on our soprano scene, first George and now (Y/n)!” He laughed in disbelief as Schlatt moved to pour him a shot of Whiskey, “what a way to run a business! Spare me these unending trials! Half your cast disappears, but the crowd still cheers! Opera! To hell with Gluck and Handel - It’s a scandal that’ll pack ‘em in the aisles!” Schlatt growled stopping out the cigarette on the ground of the room shouting, 

“Damnable. They’re all gonna walk out this is fucking ridiculous!” 

Quackity flinched, “Schlatt come on man don’t shout. Think like this It’s publicity and the take is vast! Free publicity!”

“But we have no cast!” 

“But Schlatt, have you seen the news?” He fumbled with the papers on his desk pulling out another old envelope, with a wax seal of a boar on the front. Quackity turned back to Schlatt who was also holding a letter of his own. “Oh, it seems you’ve got one too…” Quackity looked over to Schlatt who tore it open and with a grunt, he began to read his letter.

"Dear Schlatt what a charming gala! (Y/n) enjoyed great success! We were hardly bereft when George left - otherwise, the chorus was entrancing, but the dancing was a lamentable mess!” Schlatt’s letter was clenched tight in his fist, he looked at Quackity to begin to read his,

“Dear Quackity, just a brief reminder: my salary has not been paid. Send it care of the ghost, by the return of post. No one likes a debtor, so it’s better if my orders are obeyed!” Quackity was flabbergasted, and Schaltt roared 

“Who the fuck would have the gall to send this? Someone with a monkey brain! These are both signed O.G! Who the hell is he?” Both men look at one another and simultaneously shouted, “Opera ghost!”

“It’s not amusing!” Quackity grunted, 

Schlatt continued his shouting tirade, “He’s abusing our position! In addition, he wants money! He’s a funny sort of specter,” He snorted “to expect a large retainer! He is quite fucking insane!” The door of their office suddenly slammed open and Wilbur burst into the room. 

“Where is she?

“Do you mean George?” Schlatt grunted, and Wilbur made a disgusted face, 

“No! I mean Miss Daae, where is she?”

Quackity scoffed crossing his arms over his chest, “Well, how should we know?” He flinched as Wilbur slammed his hands on their desk, 

“I want an answer! I take it that you sent me this note?”

“Of course not!” Schlatt snapped harshly, 

“She’s not with you, then?”

“Of course not!” Quackity argued, “we’re just as in the dark as you are! What do you think we’ve written huh?” Wilbur fished the letter out of his pocket and handed it to Quackity who pulled the note out, “Do not fear for Miss Daae. The Angel of Music has her under his wing. Make no attempt to see her again.” He exclaimed completely baffled, “they sound like a scorned lover of Miss Daae.” 

“Where is he?” George shouted bursting down the door to his office and Schlatt pinched the bridge of his nose, 

“Ah, welcome back!”

“Your patron-where is he?”

“What is it now?” Wilbur groaned, 

“I have your letter - a letter which I rather resent!” He snapped shoving the letter in his face, Wilbur took it from his hands “I did not send this!”

“You didn’t send it?” George’s voice grew soft and confused, 

“Of course not!”

“You dare to tell me, that this is not the letter you sent?!”

“Do you think this sounds like me?” Wilbur scoffed reading the letter aloud for the room, “Your days at the Opera Populaire are numbered. (Y/n) Daae will be singing on your behalf tonight. Be prepared for great misfortune, should you attempt to take her place.”

Schlatt scoffed ripping the letter from Wilbur’s hands and then tearing it to pieces, “Far too many notes for my taste and most of them about (Y/n)! All we’ve heard since we came is Miss Daae’s name…Hey! This office is starting to feel cramped!” Schlatt snapped as Phil came to the doorway,

“Miss Daae has returned.” Phil frowned eyebrow twitching at Schlatt’s tone and attitude, “I thought it best that she went to bed.”

“She needed rest,” Tommy said popping up from beside Phil, Wilbur’s voice wavered in concern,

“May I see her?”

“No, sir, she will see no one.”

George only scoffed at the pleasantries, “Will she sing?”

“Here, I have a note,” Phil sighed opening the letter and clearing his throat “Gentlemen, I have now sent you several notes of the most amiable nature, detailing how my theatre is to be run. You have not followed my instructions. I shall give you one last chance…(Y/n) Daae has returned to you, and I am anxious about how her career should progress. In the new production of "Il Muto”, you will therefore cast George as the Pageboy, and put Miss Daae in the role of Countess. The role which Miss Daae plays calls for charm and appeal. The role of the Pageboy is silent - which makes my casting, in a word ideal. I shall watch the performance from my normal seat in Box Five, which will be kept empty for me. Should these commands be ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur. I remain, Gentlemen, Your obedient servant, O.G.“

Immediately after reading George shrieked right by Phil’s ear, “(Y/n)! It’s all a ploy to help (Y/n)! I know who sent this: The Vicomte - her lover!” She pointed harshly at Wilbur who sputtered his rejection of the idea, he turned to the other gentleman, 

“Can you believe this?”

“Señor!” Quackity sputtered, “This is a joke! This changes nothing!” Schlatt gently reached out to grab George’s shoulders and squeezed them tenderly, 

“You are our star! And always will be! This ghost is a mad man! We don’t take orders from him.” He snapped with certainty in his tone, Quackity nodded in agreement, 

“Miss Daae will be playing the Pageboy - the silent role! George will be playing the lead!” Phil was fuming but both men were ignoring him, 

“You cannot be serious mate! The only thing you’ll do is encourage the Phantom’s wrath!” All the men except Wilbur pushed Phil out and slammed the door in his face, he was seething, Tommy looked over at his dad, 

“This isn’t going to end well.” 

“No Tommy, it will not. Go wake (Y/n) and tell her of the role.” 

“Alright, but if she cries I’m sending her to you,” Tommy mumbled making his way back down the hall towards your room. 

—

As the overture of the play began to take place Wilbur turned to Schlatt and Quackity, his lips were pressed into a thin line. “I will be sitting in Box Five tonight.” The other two men briefly glanced at one another, Quackity swallowed almost nervously, 

“Do you think that’s wise, man?”

“My dear Quackity, there would appear to be no seats available, other than Box Five…” Schlatt scoffed swirling around a glass of brandy in his hand. 

All three of them nodded to one another before disappearing into their respective seats, Wilbur was on edge as the curtains rose on the performance. Everything seemed to be going as normal, well normal as it could go. Wilbur couldn’t help but grimace at George’s performance, clearly hogging the spotlight from you. Although he had to admit you looked as cute as a button in your page boy uniform. He smiled finally finding himself being able to relax and enjoy the performance, that is however until he felt a chill run down his spine. He sat forward once more as the lights on the stage flickered and sparked. The audience covered their eyes and began to shout, Wilbur almost bit through his tongue as what could only be described as a ghost-like voice boomed over the audience. 

“Did I not instruct box five to be kept empty for my enjoyment?”

Wilbur’s head whipped towards the stage and you felt Tommy grab your arm. 

“He’s here the Phantom of the Opera.” A look of pain crossed over your face hearing how fearful Tommy’s voice was. You took his hand within your own, 

“It’s alright he’s not going to hurt anyone.” You smiled fondly at the boy trying to reassure him but Tommy didn’t look convinced. George spun around hitting you with his fan, 

“Your role is silent, toad!” 

A booming laugh filled the theater undoubtedly Techno’s, “a toad? I think you’ll find it’s you who are the toad.” 

“You’re detestable!” He spat, “conductor continue the music!” He commanded and the conductor did so with unease, George cleared his throat and continued with his lines. Although anyone with eyes could tell the audience wasn’t fully engaged. George opened his mouth to let out a belt and his voice cracked, he flushed clearing his throat before trying once more. His voice only croaked again, he sounded like a frog and your eyes moved up to the chandelier, 

“Oh Techno, what have you done…” You whispered to yourself as George let out a panicked, broken sob. The audience gasped as the chandelier began to flicker on and off, Techno’s laugh carried over the crowd once more. 

“Behold! His is singing to bring down the chandelier!” 

George let out another broken sob as he ran off the stage embarrassed beyond belief. The managers stepped forward in their box and Quackity cleared his throat, 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the performance will continue in ten minutes…” He continued looking at box five, “when the role of the Countess will be sung by Miss (Y/n) Daae.” 

Schlatt looked around and locked eyes with Phil from the side of the stage, “In the meantime, ladies and gentlemen, we shall be giving you the ballet from Act Three of tonight’s opera. Maestro - the ballet - now!” He commanded and once more the music began to swell. Tommy and the other ballet dancers entered the stage as their music began to play, Tommy’s eyes could help but scan the wings of the stage. A large shadow passed overhead in the rafters causing him to dance out of step, over the stage there was a gigantic, oppressive, shadow and with a crack like thunder, the body of Dream crashed onto the stage a noose hanging tight around his neck. 

Pandemonium strikes. 

“Wilbur! Wilbur!” Your broken cries filled the area and from somewhere in the wings he ran out to you embracing you in his arms. “He lied to me, I could’ve never imagined him hurting anyone. Especially not so recklessly!” you rambled and Wilbur shushed you softly. 

“Songbird, come with me…” He demanded taking your hand with his own,

“The roof. We’ll be safe there.” You assured dragging him alongside you up to the roof. The stars twinkled overhead as the old friends burst onto the roof, and the cold air nipped the bare skin of your shoulders heart-pounding viciously in your chest. Wilbur took your arm holding it tightly, 

“Why have you brought us up here?” 

“Don’t take me back there I can’t stand it.” You choked, 

“We must return my dear.” 

“We can’t! We can’t return! He lied to me I don’t know what he’d do-”

“Shh, shh be still now.” Wilbur wrapped you in his arms holding you close to his chest, “don’t think about it.”

“And if he has to kill a thousand men?” You argued back, “The Phantom of the Opera will kill-”

“This phantom is a fable.” Wilbur assured trying to bring you back to reality “there is no Phantom of the Opera. He is only a man, a sick and twisted man.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t call him sick and twisted-”

“(Y/n) he killed Dream!” 

“I-” Your lips pressed into a thin line, “Wilbur I’ve been there to his world of unending night…To a world where the daylight dissolves into darkness. I’ve seen him! Can I ever forget that? Can I ever escape from that face? So distorted yet so beautiful in its own way, so kind to me he touched my very heart and soul. His voice filled my spirit with a strange, sweet sound. That night there was music in my mind and through music, my soul began to soar!” Wilbur couldn’t help but scoff a fire like jealousy burned through his veins, 

“What you heard was a dream.” 

“But in his eyes all the sadness of the world…Those pleading eyes, that both threaten and adore me.” 

“(Y/n)…”

There was another call of her name, but it wasn’t from Wilbur, it was a gruff distinct baritone that you had come to recognize by pitch alone. 

“What was that?” You squeaked taking Wilbur’s hand as you met his eyes, suddenly the mood around the both of you seemed to shift dramatically. The moonlight seemed to highlight Wilbur’s features beautifully, and for the first time, you found yourself thinking your childhood friend looked breathtakingly handsome. Wilbur swallowed thickly and brought his hand up to your cheek caressing it softly with his thumb. He took a shaky breath and rested his forehead against your own, 

“No more talk of darkness, Forget these wide-eyed fears. I’m here, nothing can harm you - my words will warm and calm you. Let me be your freedom, let daylight dry -your tears. I’m here, with you, beside you, to guard you and to guide you.” You leaned your cheek against his hand pressing a tender kiss to the palm, before murmuring a soft,

“Say you love me every waking moment, turn my head with talk of summertime…Say you need me with you, now and always…promise me that all you say is true - that’s all I ask of you.” Wilbur smiled in adoration kissing your forehead affectionately,

“Let me be your shelter, let me be your light. You’re safe: No one will find you, your fears are far behind you.” 

“All I want is freedom, a world with no more night, and you always beside me to hold me and to hide me.” Wilbur interrupted you with a tender kiss, his lips tasted like nutmeg and cinnamon and your heart pounded against your ribcage. “Say you love me…”

“You know I do.” Wilbur breathed, 

“Love me - that’s all I ask of you.” This time it was you who laid your lips upon Wilburs’, his hand moved from your cheeks to the back of your head gently tugging at your hair drawing the kiss deeper. You broke the kiss with a soft pant, “I must go - they’ll wonder where I am-” You laughed breathlessly as Wilbur kissed you again reluctant to let you go so easily, 

“And?” 

“Wil.” You giggled, pulling away again, "wait for me?”

“Songbird, I love you!”

“Then order your horses! Be with them at the door!”

“And soon you’ll be beside me!” Wilbur took your hand and pulled you back down the stone staircase back to the theatre. Technoblade clutched a white rose between his fingers, the stem had long since snapped as he stepped out from behind one of the many gargoyles on the opera house. His cheeks were red and wet from the chilly air, his eyes puffy crying after all he just watched the love of his life fall in love with someone else. If you could even call what they had love,

“I gave you my music…made your song take wing..and now, how you’ve repaid me: denied me and betrayed me…He was bound to love you when he heard you sing…You will curse the day you did not do all that the Phantom asked of you!” He snarled tossing the rose on the ground and stomping on it as he took off back down into the depth of the theater. That bastard, that uncultured swine, no no that was an insult to swine even though they had more class than Wilbur did. Sweeping you off your feet like you were some damsel who needed saving when that was hardly the case, you had him after all and you only needed him. He made his way up into the rafters, carefully making his way back to the glorious ornate chandelier, and stood on top of it. The audience had just begun to applaud his lovely Siren as she finished the part he had so graciously wanted her to have in the beginning. His heart and mind were at war with one another. On one hand, his heart wanted to leap with joy, take her in his arms and kiss her passionately congratulating her on her success and magnificent performance. But his other hand was bitter and spiteful, not to her, never to his lovely muse, but to the bastard who is ripping her out of his life forever. Techno never even got to hear her choice if she would stay with him after she had so graceful accepted his scars and told him he was beautiful. No, he couldn’t let him take her away, he had to make a statement here and now, he snarled and began to rock the chandelier back and forth, the lights began to flicker and the audience began to murmur uneasily. With a beastly cry, the chandelier began to descend swinging wildly over the orchestra pit, landing just at your feet. 

You let out a scream of horror as glass and gold shattered at your feet. 

~~~

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Phantom Of The Opera: Chapter One

(Technoblade x Reader x Wilbur)

Welcome to the Phantom of the Opera Au, I hope you enjoy my lost souls. I know it’s been a while but I hope this makes up for my absence.

Here is the link to the musical if anyone is interested
~~~

Paris was always beautiful in the winter, at least it was to Wilbur, he liked the warm sweaters and the light snow that littered the ground beneath his feet. Wilbur let out a small sigh and watched as fog formed in the air in front of his mouth. He stood outside the old opera house and ran a hand through his brown hair that had long since been streaked with grey. It was only when the snow started to cause the curls on his head to stick to his forehead that he finally entered the old opera house. Once inside he was greeted like an old friend and was quickly rushed to the auctioneer’s room. There weren’t many people in the room, maybe around four or five, but every one of them seemed to be staring right into Wilbur’s soul. The moment passed, and Wilbur took his seat and waited. The things being bid were frivolous to him, he was only there for one thing and one thing only. Wilbur sat there for a few hours until he saw it, a small paper-mache music box. This box was the exact one his lover often spoke of, the one in the shape of a barrel organ with a figure of money playing symbols attached to the lid. The auctioneer continued to speak about the box, he stated that it was discovered in the vaults of the theatre and the music box was still in working order. The bid started at fifteen francs but Wilbur purchased it for thirty, there was only one other man bidding on the old box. Once it was in his grasp; Wilbur’s fingers began to trace over the velvet piece of the box. He was seemingly lost in the memories of what the box had brought onto his life and his lovers. Wilbur’s head shot up as the next antique being sold was announced, it was a broken chandelier. Wilbur felt his throat go tight and his ears began to ring getting lost in the booming voice of the auctioneer around him. 

“Some of you may recall the strange affair of the Phantom of the Opera: a mystery never fully explained. We are told ladies and gentlemen, that this is the very chandelier that appears in the famous disaster. Our workshops have restored it and fitted up parts of it with wiring for the new electric light, so that we may get a hint of what it may look like when re-assembled. Perhaps we may frighten away the ghost of so many years ago with a little Illumination…” 

It all seemed to start with a production of Chalumeau’s Hannibal, the lead of the show was none other than one of the most famous opera singers of the time George Guidicelli. He was talented, anyone with ears could see that the only problem was he was a primadonna in every sense of the word. No one would dare call him out on it, they needed to be careful of his wrathful nature for no one wanted to be on the receiving end of George’s fury. The Opera House was in the process of switching owners, even midway through a production two men were overtaking the role of managers. Their names were odd and referred to themselves as Schlatt and Quackity. The two newcomers were immediately scolded for getting in the way of all the ballet dancers by an older gentleman named Phil. Schlatt had scoffed at that insinuation calling Phil an old crow rather rudely which caused him to ‘accidentally’ get hit in the back of the legs with Phil’s cane. As they watched the dancing continue, the old owner hummed in distaste as a young boy with blonde hair become prominent among the ballet dancers. 

“Who’s the kid?” Schlatt grumbled an eyebrow shooting upon his forehead the old owner chuckled softly watching the boy spin with an odd sort of grace.

“Him? That’s Tommy, Phil’s son, he’s one of our most promising dancers.”

The three watched as another dancer was brought into the spotlight, she had (h/c) hair that was curled gracefully, and had a faraway look in her eyes. The men jolted watching as Phil slammed his cane harshly on the old floor of the stage. 

“You! (Y/n) Daae! Concentrate, girl!”

“Daae? Curious name.” Quackity murmured rubbing his chin thoughtfully, 

“Swedish.” The old owner commented with an uncaring shrug,

“Any relation to the violinist?” Schlatt grunted sharp eyes taking in her figure almost hungrily.

“His daughter actually. It’s a shame she always has her head in the clouds. She would have much more promise if she could remain focused.” The rehearsal ended sometime later and the old owner clapped both men on the back marching them towards the center stage and introducing them to the cast. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please? As you know, for some weeks there have been rumors of my imminent retirement. I can now tell you that these were all true and it is my pleasure to introduce to you the two gentlemen who now own the Opera Populaire, Quackity and Schlatt. Mr. Soot will be here sometime later to introduce himself, unfortunately, the train is running late. For now, gentlemen this is Signor George Giudicelli, our leading soprano for five seasons now.” Both men watched as George made his way towards them all beady-eyed and prideful. Schlatt made a subtle face of displeasure as Quackity began to prattle on about how much he loved him in his other performances, thoroughly kissing his ass. It’s what Quackity was good for…ass-kissing. 

“We would be honored if you could give us a rendition of one of the opening songs in Hannibal? Just as a little sneak peek.” Quackitly smiled eyes lighting up,

Geroge flushed, the apples of his cheeks turning red and smiling like he had been expecting this outcome since the very beginning. He pushed his way towards the center stage and began to sing one of his opening numbers, it was by all means wonderful. Schlatt glanced at his partner and knew if they could keep George he would be able to bring in a ton of money for them and the opera house. However, the attitude changed when the backdrop of the scene shattered onto the ground sending fragments all over the stage. The girls screamed and Schlatt saw Tommy grab onto (Y/n)’s arm, and harshly whispered: 

“He’s here: the Phantom of the Opera. He is with us! It’s the ghost!” A mischievous smile was etched into his face and the woman clicked her tongue scolding him softly. George was still screaming as Quackity was trying frantically to calm her down, Schlatt approached them calmly holding out his hands.

“Now, now George, these things do happen-” Schlatt was cut off rather harshly by the primadonna’s temper, 

“Si! These things do happen! Well, until you stop these things happening, this thing does not happen!” He pointed harshly at himself eyes blazing with ferocious fire, “amateurs!” He spat, hiking up his dress pants and marching off the sage his husband following behind him. Quackity looked rather worried but Schlatt only scoffed, 

“He’ll be back.” 

“You think so mate?” Phil raised a brow standing in between the two men both of them looked up at the blonde male. He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a faded white letter, it was pressed closed with red wax, and the seal was a boar’s head. “I have a message from the opera ghost.” 

“Jesus Christ they’re obsessed…” Quackity mumbled to Schlatt under his breath, 

“He welcomes you to his opera house and commands you to continue to Box Five empty for his use and he wants to remind you his salary is due.” 

“Salary?” Schlatt choked snatching the letter out of Phil’s hands, only now seeming concerned about the ghost, Phil only raised his blue eyes. 

“Monsieur Lefevre paid him twenty thousand francs a month. Perhaps you can afford more, with the Vicomte de Soot as your patron.” He grunted, and Quackity made a displeased face, 

“I wanted to make that announcement…” 

“Calm your tits Quackity,” Schlatt grunted in response, and his friend pouted. “Yeah Wilbur’s comin’ he’ll sit in our box.” Schlatt rubbed his stubble thoughtfully, “We got an understudy for George?” 

“No one…” a choir boy with a mask cleared his throat fiddling with fingers, “the production is new so there wasn’t an understudy cast.” 

“Fuck.” 

“(Y/n) Daae could do it.” The blonde choir boy shot his hands in the air and said girl let out a nervous call of his name. She grasped his arm tight over at him he only smile cheekily in response. “She’s been having private lessons from an amazing teacher!” 

“Who?” Quackity raised a brow staring at the young woman, 

“I…don’t know…sir.” He caught her looking around uneasily, and it caused Quackity to look nervous as well. 

“Oh f- not you too.” Schlatt groaned, “I can’t believe this is a full house and we’re gonna have to cancel. All that money…fuckin’ wasted.”

“Let her sing.” Phil hummed softly a hand pressed to the young woman’s back, “give her a chance to impress you mate.”

“Fine.” Schlatt grunted, “from the beginning again.” 

—

The stage lights were brighter than you could’ve imagined, and the crowd roared as the orchestra began to swell. There you were in the middle of the stage, you took a breath and began to sing, it’s a sweet melody that seemed to cause the audience to go quiet in an instant, 

“Think of me…” 

Your voice was crisp and clear and carried over the audience instantly captivating them all, from Box Four sat Wilbur Soot. His brown eyes twinkled in the stage lights as he found himself captivated by your beauty and voice. You had a familiar beauty to you that made his heart squeeze in yearning. You had such a cute nose and the confidence you held when you sang was nothing to scoff at, he breathed out a disbelieving laugh, 

“Can it be? Can it be (Y/n)? Bravo!” He clapped laughing louder this time standing up in his seat, “What a change! You’re really not a bit the gawkish girl that once you were… She may not remember me, but I remember her…” He sat back down slumping in it in disbelief, god you were stunning in that dress. It framed your body just perfectly as he let your siren-like voice drag him under. 

The curtains closed around you and that’s when you finally were able to take in a big breath of air, relief filled your lungs before Tommy crashed into your body. He was speaking a mile a minute only making out a few words, he was praising you that much was clear. Phil walked over and stood in front of the both of you, a smile appearing on his face, “You did well. He will be pleased with your performance.” Phil mused giving you a soft pat on the head before eyeing down Tommy and the other dances, “You all, however, were disgraceful!” Phil pulled Tommy off you and began to chew out the other dancers, Tommy wasn’t listening much more inclined to follow you to your dressing room. You seemed lost to him, acting out of character, and if Phil noticed him slip away the man said nothing in response. Your hand touched the knob on the door to the dressing room and stilled a voice, gruff and deep, echoed around the room,

“Bravi, bravi, bravissimi…” A shiver racked down your spine, it wasn’t an unpleasant one however and you turned around to try to face the figure. Instead of seeing the figure who was praising you, Tommy came running down the stairs. He crossed his arms with a scoff, 

“You think you’re too good for me now is that it?” There was a teasing edge to his tone, “you get the lead and now you disappear on us huh? Well…this is where you’re hiding huh?” His nose scrunched up noticing a few stary cobwebs, “you know I don’t say this often…but you were seriously perfect tonight.” His face softened considerably as he took your hands within his own, “Who is your new tutor?”

Tommy watched as a sad smile spread across your cheeks, you looked far away eyes glassily, hazed over with something Tommy couldn’t quite pinpoint. “My father once spoke of an angel, I used to dream he’d appear to me one day when I sing…I feel like I can sense it and I know he’s there.” You took in a shaky breath a dazed smile spreading across your lips and Tommy frowned worryingly, “like for example in this room he’s calling me softly. He’s somewhere inside hiding I just know he is, the genius is always with me.” You cupped your hands to your chest in awe meanwhile Tommy was staring at you bewilderedly. 

“(Y/n) you must have been dreaming. Shit like that can’t come true, you’re not one to speak of ghosts or phantoms. It’s just not like you.” Tommy grabbed your hands, and you shivered underneath his touch. 

“He’s with me even now…all around.” 

“Your face it’s pale…”

“It frightens me.” 

“Don’t be frightened.” 

Both of them jumped at the sound of a cane pounding on the stone steps and Tommy visibly flinched. “Did you skip out on practice?” You breathed and Tommy smiled sheepishly as he heard Phil’s voice shout his name. “Go Tommy, you’ll get in trouble,” you shooed him away and he left, but not without a moment’s hesitation. Once he officially left you turned back to your dressing room and stepped inside the gorgeously decorated room. You were hit with the scent of flowers, specifically, dahlias and roses and they seemed to fill in every area of your dressing room. A ghost of a smile drifted across your lips, as a knock sounded on your door, “Come in!” A tall man entered the room, he was lanky with chestnut hair and a pair of round glasses that rested upon his nose. 

“(Y/n) Daae where is your hat?” He spoke, his voice wasn’t accusatory instead it was light and teasing. He watched your brows furrow in confusion, “oh come on now. After all the trouble I went through to give it to you as a memento!” 

“Oh my god, Wilbur! It is you!” You exclaimed in delight running up to him and wrapping your arms around his body. He was much more muscle than bones, a stark difference from your past, you felt him chuckle beneath your arms. You pulled away eyes shining with delight, Wilbur hummed pleasantly lightly running his fingers through your hair.

“Little Songbird let her mind wander …”

“Oh god, you remember that, too …

“Little Songbird thought: Am I fonder of dolls, or goblins, of shoes…” He mused with a grin and mused yourself, 

“Or of riddles, of frocks. Those picnics in the attic…” You breathed fondly and Wilbur brushed the pads of his fingers over your heated cheek. 

“…or of chocolates…”

“Or Father playing the violin,” You sighed dreamily pressing your body against his, and Wilbur continued swaying with you gently, 

“As we read to each other dark stories of the North…”

“No what I love best, The Songbird said, is when I’m asleep in my bed, and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head! Father said, "When I’m in heaven, child, I will send the Angel of Music to you”. My father is dead, Wilbur, and I have been visited by the Angel of Music.” You expressed looking up at his face only to find him looking back down at you with amusement, 

“No doubt about it little one. Now however we’ll go to supper together!” Your eyes widened in horror and you pulled away from his hands fumbling with the lace of your costume, 

“No, Wilbur I can’t, the Angel of Music is very strict.”

“Then I won’t keep you up late!” He laughed fondly, “you should change. I must get my hat. Two minutes Little Songbird. Then I’ll be back for you!” Wilbur shouted with glee leaving the room as you called out to him, almost desperately.

“Things have changed Wil…” 

The air in your dressing room felt hot and thick, it was so bad you felt as if it was choking you. You glanced over to the mirror only to see a figure standing inside it, he had long pink hair tied into a tight braid down his back. His ears were pointed and a pure white mask covered half his face, eyes a vibrant red and he almost looked to have tusks. His outfit was glorious a deep red cape and a black suit and you knew immediately this was your angel. He sneered at you in the mirror, 

“Insolent boy. This slave of fashion basking in your glory!” He scoffed tone unkind but not towards you, “ignorant fool! This brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!” You reached forward placing your hand right around the mirror, 

“Angel! I hear you! Speak - I listen…stay by my side, guide me!” You pleaded, voice almost breaking with a sob, “Angel, my soul was weak - forgive me…enter at last, Master!” You watched as your angel’s face visibly softened, glowing eyes shining with eternal kindness and satisfaction. You stepped back as the mirror seemingly opened on its own but you were too mystified to care, 

“Flattering child, you shall know me, see why in the shadow I hide! Look at your face in the mirror - I am there inside!” A hand stretched out from behind the eternal darkness of the mirror and you felt your excitement grow. You gently grasped his hand within your own, it was warm but not unpleasant, you felt his fingers brush across your knuckles like he was making sure you were real. “I am your Angel of Music…” He breathed and you nodded allowing yourself to be whisked away into the darkness. The hidden passageway was made out of stone brick, clearly made decades ago, candles lined the walls illuminating you and your angels’ journey. As you and the angel moved deeper into the cavern mist began to gather and swirl at your feet and a large underground lake came into view. “Please my siren, allow me,” His breath fanned your cheek and you felt them burn with embarrassment. He stepped in front of you, and then into the water pulling a boat to shore. You gasped in awe and he chuckled fondly, “Come to me.” You did as you were told grasping once more onto his hand as he helped you into the boat, he grabbed an ore and began to grow into the ever-expanding cavern. 

“Angel?” 

“Techno’s fine my Siren. Compared to your beauty I am no angel.” He smiled eyes crinkling at the sides watching you flush a deep red. 

“Where are we going?” 

“My home. Just watch, keep your eyes ahead my dear.” 

You nodded swiftly and almost as if his words were magic a gorgeous candlelit cavern appeared in your vision. Candles were the only source of light provided, and your amazement only grew as your Angel- Techno docked the boat. He helped you step out of it making sure your costume wasn’t damaged in the movement. Techno seemed to preen at the awe sparkling in your eyes, your dainty fingers tracing over every nook and cranny of his home. “How did you get a piano in here?” You exclaimed with a disbelieving laugh, moving to stand behind it, he only responded with another fond chuckle. Your fingers danced across the keys pressing them down as you went, the noise was like a melody to Techno’s ears. 

“May I show you something?” 

“Anything.” You breathed in a way that made Technoblade’s insides twist in delight, once more you took his hand. He led you down the steps to a giant bedroom, curtains framed the bed and he nuzzled his face into your neck. “What’s this?” 

“A bedroom genius,” He snorted and his heart jumped hearing you giggle in delight, “for you.” 

“Me?” You whispered in disbelief, “How? Why?” You turned to place your hands on his cheeks, 

“If you want it.” 

“I barely know you.” The rational part of your brain argued against your angel’s wishing, even though the other part of you felt as if you belong here, should stay here with him. After all, you already felt as though you knew the man for years.

“You can learn to,” Techno cupped your cheek with his hand and brushed his thumb across your cheek. You shivered pleasantly at his touch, he could see the conflict in your eyes, “just stay the night at least. Then you may venture back into the light so long as you stay far away from the boy.” Without meaning to you found yourself nodding completely entranced by him, “That’s my good girl.” 

—

You woke up to the melodious sound of a piano, you could hear a deep baritone voice singing an enchanting song. The music washed over you and you felt like you were floating on the bed. Speaking of, the bed was soft beneath your body and you felt as though you could sink into it and stay there forever. There was a swell in the song and you finally lifted yourself from the confines of the bed, you made your way over to the piano where Techno sat. You couldn’t help but stare, he caught your eyes and you smiled in his direction the boyish smile he sent back made your heart skip a beat. He pats the piano bench beside him and you sat down at his side, he smiled resting his face on your shoulder hands moving away from the piano to rest on your thighs. He has your thighs a gentle squeeze and your eyes fluttered beautifully, “you are absolutely stunning my siren.” 

“I’m hardly stunning but thank you.” Your cheeks turned pink and Techno tutted taking your chin between his fingers, “Techno?” 

“Don’t ever say you’re not stunning. You absolutely are, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen my dear.” His words shook you to your core, his voice was so stern so genuine and you brought your own hand to cup his mask. He flinched away from your touch but you followed the movements, 

“How can I believe that to be true when you’re sitting right beside me.” You heard Techno choke back a sob nuzzling against the hand on his mask. Your fingers found the straps behind his head and the mask came apart in your hands. Techno shot off of you like you’d burned him, his hand clutching the side of his face, his one visible eye beady and frightened. He kept his face from your view but you could sense the air around you grow thick, he was furious. He grabbed the collar of your dress and you let out a yelp of fear,

“Damn you! You little prying Pandora! You little demon-is this what you wanted to see? Curse you! You little lying Delilah! Now you cannot ever be free! Damn you…Curse you…” He choked back a sob and you saw the fist against your collar shake, his hand dropped from his face and your pupils blew wide. The left side of his face was littered with scars and burns, jagged deep cuts that marked his otherwise pristine face. You said nothing, completely in shock by the man in front of you, the same beautiful man from before. “I will burn in hell, but secretly yearn for heaven, secretly…secretly…” Techno muttered his voice wavering, “But, (Y/n)…fear can turn to love! You’ll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster: this…repulsive carcass, who seems a beast, but secretly dreams of beauty…” You shushed him softly, moving to run your fingers over the scars but he flinched away, instead you silently handed him back the mask. A barely audible thank you left his mouth snapping the mask back into place. You moved to press a light kiss to the side of the mask and his eyes widened considerably, “come we must return - those two fools who run my theatre will be missing their star.”

~~~
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.:| Wholeheartedly yours |:.

• Description: c!Wilbur x Reader, slight angst to fluff
• TW: 1 bit of cursing, otherwise probably none(?). Let me know if there is any and I’ll add it right way.
• Word count: 3.2k
• Summary: Wilbur challenged you to a love letter writing competition. You have an emotional crisis because you don’t know how to write a candid love letter without confessing your love to him. Little did you two know you are idiots in love both pining for each other.
• A/N: As you can see I gave up on the summary and a lot of the dialogue punctuation because I’m genuinely so stupid at both. I promise I will make up for this the next fic. But hey at least I posted something at last.
• I want to take this opportunity to give special thanks to my bestie @chaoticene for all the support all the time always, @straighttohellbuddy for writing something so wonderful it finally pushed my ass back to writing, and @allywritesforfun for being an incredibly conscientious editor. And also happy (late) birthday to @sushisoot, this is your present ;)

On your small tea table outside, you had to squint a bit to see the ink being illuminated by the house’s window lights. The sun was slowly setting on the horizon of your quaint little cottage, but in your hands were the words that would ignite the sunrise of a new nation.

The draft of L’manburg Declaration of Independence was currently under keen scrutiny, your eyes searching for any awkward wording or grammar mistakes Wilbur might have made in the haste to jot down his fire for the country.

Contrary to your focused but relaxed composure, the man was pacing back and forth anxiously in your garden. It was easy to see the passion for his “symphony” by how agitated he was when he handed you the draft.

“You spelled ‘separate’ incorrectly, Wilbur. There are two ‘a’s’,” you decided to interrupt his intense expression, “and there should be a comma here, too.”

Wilbur gazed at you in mild disbelief (and a bit of annoyance, maybe) while he came over to check. The lanky bastard had to crouch from behind to see the spot you were pointing at with your thumb.

“Can’t believe I’m so dumb”, he let out a small laugh. “Can you make a note there? I’ll fix it later.”

“You are easily one of the most eloquent people I’ve met, Wilbur”, you scoffed while scrawling on the parchment. “You are practically raising an entire nation with merely your words”, frowning playfully, you shook your head, “Don’t do yourself such a disservice”.

He raised his brows at you. “And yet here I am, seeking once more consultation from your ever-flowing fountain of literary wisdom”. He dropped his poet act, “You have written some of the best things I’ve ever read, Y/N, and I consider myself quite well-read”. There he goes again, complimenting your penmanship while you try to brush it off. What a nice Thursday.

“You are an ass-kisser.”

“And you are a hypocrite”, he retorted. “But really, I think it’s high time you recognize how brilliant your writing really is”.

“What do you mean by that?” you looked at him, confused.

“Maybe a… writing competition?”. There was a glint in his eyes, “To see which one of us is the bigger hypocrite”.

“Fine”, you rolled your eyes, defeated. This prick, always knows how to get what he wants. You were too competitive to say no, especially to him. “What do you want to write?”

“Now, I know you are the best when writing emotional stuff, so maybe that?” he offered, almost as a consolation for having persuaded you into doing this.

“Emotional stuff? Like a love letter?”, you laughed at the ridiculousness of the idea.

“Sure”, Wilbur smirked, accepting the challenge.

Alright, maybe you laughed a little early.

You blinked at the man, eyes wide open as he continued on, completely dismissing your baffled reaction.

“You and I, we each write a love letter, addressed to…”, he held a suspiciously mischievous look, “whoever we want. And in a… fortnight, for poetic reasons, we show each other.”

You held your skeptic stare, very unsure about the decision you’ve just made. A love letter. You knew in an instant who you’ll be writing it to. And you wanted to scold yourself for knowing the answer so fast, so well.

“Whosever letter moves the other person more, wins, and will forever be the better writer of the two of us”, the brunet waved his hands dramatically. “Bragging rights for life if you admit you are the bigger hypocrite”.

“No cheating. You must write to the best of your capabilities”. You were in way too deep now, there’s no backing out. The best you could do is hope his love, most likely for his country, will burn (haha get it? Wilburn. Badum tss. I should go kick myself) brighter than yours.

“You, too”. He extended his hands out, grinning like a corrupted wizard ready to take your heart away the moment you agreed to his shady, too-good-to-be-true deal.

Little did he know, he already had it.

So you shook his hands, firmly, “In a fortnight”.

“In a fortnight”.

**********

A week has passed since the deal was made, and you are thoroughly regretting everything. If you were being honest, you didn’t know why you even went along knowing full well it would expose you.

Several attempts have been made to write, about things other than Wilbur, of course. There are many people, many stuff that you love apart from him. Surely. You love your peaceful, quiet life in the forest, surrounded by fauna and flora as far as one can see. You love the bustling of the nearby towns, where you can smell the baker’s buttery pastries and see the florist’s vibrant flowers every morning. You love the joyful melodies of the seasonal festivals, when people would sing and dance without a worry in the world.

When you and Wilbur first met.

Soon into the process of writing, you realized a lot of the things you love were connected to Wilbur, and composing a love letter about anything else felt… lackluster. Disingenuous, if you had the courage to say it.

So, to the surprise of no one, you crumpled another piece of paper to the trash can. Perhaps taking a few more days away from parchment and ink to contemplate what to write on would give you a surge of the lovey-dovey feeling you need.

**********

Only two more days until you have to show Wilbur your “love letter” whose dedicated subject you still haven’t decided on. Your mind has just been stuck ever since you took on this challenge, and there is not a single thing you can think of that can motivate you to write.

Except…

No. You’ve been there. You’ve decided it was too risky a move to make. No one in their right mind would read whatever it is you would write to him and think it’s just platonic. It would be self-sabotaging in its very definition.

Then again, if you didn’t write anything, or write about something you didn’t truly pour your heart into, he would know. He would know that something wasn’t right, and you would have to live a life even more miserable than right now, constantly teetering the edge between friendship and romantic partnership, questioning if the other felt the same.

“Fuck it”. You sat up right from your bed, walking straight to your desk, “I’ve got nothing to lose”.

It was a pathetic lie you told yourself because, subconsciously, you knew you had everything to lose. But if you didn’t do something and let your fate falls to uncertainty, you would probably go crazier than you already have.

Later that day, in a quaint little cottage shrouded by the forest’s bushy shadows, was a person desperately writing, scribbling the night away, as if their life depended on it, as if this was the first, and last, time they would ever write this way.

**********

Sunlight greeted the SMP once again, the hues of dawn slowly fading, making way for a cloudless sky. It was a picturesque, soundless painting, minus the small shop owners prepping their goods for the day.

The sound of the doorbell shocked Niki for a bit - she was sure the sign still said “Closed”. However, the silhouette of a tall brunet relaxed her mind.

“Good morning, Niki”.

“Morning, Wilbur”, she was focused on frosting her cake, sparing him but a glance. “What got you here so early?”

“I was told to pick up a… letter here? From Y/N?” He quirked an eyebrow, hoping he hadn’t gotten your instructions wrong.

“Oh, yes! I’ve got it right here for you” Niki placed her piping bag down and wiped her hands on the mustard-coloured apron, directing herself to the back room. From his place in front of the counter, Wilbur could see her moving a few things around before returning with an envelope in her hands.

“Here you go”.

He retrieved the brown thing with a thank. Twirling the envelope around, he couldn’t help but admire your handiwork with the wax seal, and even the calligraphy. He was curious to know what you had written that merited such fancy wrappings.

“It’s quite weird. She dropped this off just a while ago, you know. The sun was barely up”, a small chuckle escaped Niki, who wasted no time getting back to her Red Velvet. “She also told me to tell you to read it right away, before you visit her place”.

“Huh…” This captured Wilbur’s attention. Weren’t you guys going to exchange your letters later together? Perhaps this is the reason you asked him to get yours from Niki instead of giving him yourself.

“You know why?”

“No idea. But I guess the answer might be in the envelope.”

So he made his way to one of the mini coffee tables, gently opening the carnation-printed red seal. “May I?” he looked at the baker, gesturing at the wooden chair.

“Of course”. She suddenly jerked her head up, “Actually, I just remember I need to give Y/N some vanilla extract she asked for. Do you mind watching the place for a moment while I go grab it?”

“Yeah, sure”, he answered absentmindedly, too consumed with the parchment in his hand.

“Wilbur dearest,

Smart as I am acclaimed to be, time and time again I have let myself fall victim for your stupid charms. The latest time being agreeing to this little bet, knowing full well it would put my heart on the lifeline. The very first? Catching your gaze in that festival - what seemed like a million springs ago.

I have to admit, being made a fool has never felt so exhilarating.

No, it wasn’t love at first sight, I’ve experienced the overwhelming crash of it to know different. It was not completely a slow-burn romance like in the novels, either. It was something in between. Such the hopeless romantic I am, but that moment was this instant attraction, a sparkly diamond firework of magnetism that erupted, and trailed to this day. I didn’t think much of it then, how prominent you would be in my life. Yet now I know, the extent to which Clytie yearns for Helios day by day.

You bewilder me, Will. All the people I have encountered in this realm, yet none intrigued me like you. The more I learn about you, the more I admire you, and the more I want to know you. I couldn’t imagine there would exist a day when I would be so absolutely smitten with someone, their flaws, their quirks, their ambitions, the almost invisible but still sensible guitar callouses on their hands. Mister President, sir, your words are melodic morning symphonies to my ears. It still surprises me to this day how there is not a single thing I don’t adore about you.

And how you make me feel, I don’t think I can ever fully convey it to words. You set my soul ablaze, surge up the tides of my heart, ground my mind in this chaos of a reality, and ascend my body to the ninth of clouds. Since you, my life has been dusted in rose gold happiness, and I thank you so much for that, Wilbur. You made me a better person and showed me how beautiful I am, how beautiful life can be. I want you to know I am forever grateful to know you.

As infatuated as I am with you, I must ask you to never reciprocate if out of only the guilt of your being. You don’t owe me anything. I don’t want my feelings to burden you. I know your heart reserved room for other things, other people. I have also anticipated that once you have read these lines, our relationship will be awfully different. But can I be selfish with you, for just a bit? Promise me that we will still be friends, that I will still have you in my life. It’s fine if these sentiments are not requited, just don’t address them with me, ever, please. I don’t care for the aches inside my chest if it means you are here with me.

Because, if it’s not painfully clear enough, I love you, Wilbur. So crazily, pathetically, ridiculously much.

Fantasize me a reality where you do, too.

Wholeheartedly yours,

Y/N”

He wasn’t quite sure for how long he had sat there, completely blanked out in the bakery. He wasn’t quite sure how to properly process everything he had just read, either. All the neurons in his brain were failing to form a single thought until…

“Niki! I forgot the vanilla-”

You closed the door to see the shop devoided of a pink-haired figure, only a half-decorated cake behind the counter and Wilbur. Your eyes trailed to his hands, then beside him on the table, just to recognize that it was…

Your letter.

Opened.

Laying right there just inviting him to read through all your vulnerabilities.

Too bad you weren’t a lexicographer because this would be the perfect definition for “bad timing”. Why did he even come so early?

You tried to regain yourself from your angsty thoughts and minimize the awkwardness of the situation.

“Hello, Will!”, what an unmistakably genuine smile. “How are you today?”

“Hey.”

With the distant voice and far-off look, you knew he had already read the whole thing. He was probably trying to find a way to speak to you without breaking your heart.

“You know, I’m feeling quite alright!” You told him with the merriest pitch you could muster, hoping he would catch the message. There was a very high chance this would be the last conversation you two would share as close friends.

Deafening silence remained inside the small space. He hasn’t moved a muscle since you stepped in, chestnut trench coat facing you.

“Are you okay-”

“No. I’m not okay.”

“Wh-”

“I can’t believe I didn’t know this”, he abruptly turned his head, “I can’t believe you’ve felt like this, all this time, and I wasn’t made aware”.

You weren’t sure what to make of his tone. Was he sad? Disappointed? …Angry? The thought of Wilbur being angry at you sent a shudder down your spine.

It took you a second, but you replied cautiously. “What are you saying?”

“Y/N”, he grabbed you by the arms. “You have no idea how much I’ve dreamt of this day.”

“What?”

Wilbur gazed into your eyes with a clarity, a sincerity you’ve never seen before. If your brain wasn’t tricking itself, you could swear sparse hints of relieving ecstasy were also laced in.

“It’s-, I didn’t know-, This thing-” Swallowing an invisible gulp of hesitation, his words finally caught up with his thoughts. “I’ve loved you for a long while, too.”

Now it’s your turn to stand there in the bakery, mouth half-agaped, completely blanking out with no thoughts forming inside your head. He seemed to recognize your shock, so he reached for your letter on the table.

“Everything you’ve written here- Heart-meltingly beautiful, by the way- It’s mutual. It’s all mutual”. He explained to you again, hoping you would see the desperate honesty in voice. “It’s been you, Y/N. It has always and will always be you. I burn for you”.

Safe to say by the expression on your face, you did not expect for this to happen at all. So you short-circuited with a goofy grin, “Did the great Wilbur Soot just fumbled over his words for me?”

Perhaps by now he had realized why none of your past loves have ever worked out, and why none of them you have confessed, least to say having your feelings requited.

Wilbur chuckled at your sentence with a layer of mild confusion behind his eyes. After sharing a hearty moment giggling with each other for the situation to settle in, you blindly crossed the small distance between you two in a bold footstep, and put your hands around his neck.

The gap between you was very narrow now. Scandalously narrow. Yet, after all that display of spontaneous courage, you were still too shy to make the final move.

So he did.

And your lips crashed in iridescent sparks of lovers’ rejoice. It was soft and tender, passionate and longing, all at the same time. It’s mesmerizing. For all this moment feels like a dream, you know it is not one from which you will be cruelly awoken. When you open your eyes, he will still be there, joyful, warm, holding you close; he will not disappear with the sunrise, because even in your wildest fantasy wouldn’t you know his kiss to be so nectarean.

Finally you broke away from the addictive sensation, still remaining itchily close, just taking in the euphoria you have just been through.

“You can’t imagine the happiness I’m feeling right now”, you cried into his shoulders.

“Trust me, I have a clue”, he whispered back contently.

You tightened your grasp around him. Maybe if you do you can also save this memory forever, tuck it away from the greedy, prying hands of time.

The blissful moment lasted only a few more seconds before your half-lidded eyes spotted a mass of pink hair behind the door frame to the back room. Suddenly, you recalled why you were here in the first place. You went to break the tender atmosphere, but luckily Niki saved you from having to cut short your own fleeting minutes of joy.

“I’ve got your vanilla extract, Y/N”. She finally spoke up, but her knowing grin and twinkling eyes were saying something completely different. Like you have guessed, she approved. In fact, if you threaded all the hints she has dropped over the years together, maybe you would have seen that she has been rooting for you guys the whole time.

“Thank you, Niki”. You turned to her, smiling gleefully, not even bothering to address the situation.

Wilbur let go of you and returned to his seat, trying to clean up more of his flustered smirking face than the actual table. Graciously taking the bottle of baking ingredient from Niki, you didn’t forget to also send a mischievous look his way.

“I still have some cleaning up to do, so I’ll see you at my place, Will.” You beamed at him. Everyone in the shop was wearing different smiles, none really pertaining to the words they say, yet all sharing a common source.

“I’ll see you later.” Then, as if remembering something, he added, “Love.”

With that, you walked out of the bakery, chipper and giddy, barely able to contain yourself, skipping half your way home.

The two people left inside the place continued to eye on you with great interest. Then, one resumed her daily schedule with buttercream and piping bags, while the other stared at the empty space ahead of him in dumbfounded wonder.

“Gosh, I was wondering if this was even going to happen,” Niki dropped nonchalantly, continuing adding petals to the rose garment as if her friends’ entire worlds hadn’t just flipped. “Took you two long enough.”

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