I Gotcha K1ng

I loved this so much agskhajf ily larx /p

He's fixing his lil bow tie :>

I don't know who to tag so uhhh @theeretblr @sunflowerdaisybee @minty-ghast also anyone else who wants to join

Because it do be that time of year🎃🍂👻 here’s a spoopy picrew I found;)

Random tags: @ethanharli @babyshoyo @just-ilya @nayarablueglasses @peachnopolaroid @qtipcottonbuds @sunflowerdaisybee @keijism @theyinfentohisjc @midnightxix +anyone else that wants to join in of course! :}

❤ Bad Boy (Cute Boy)

Request by @ -KIYOORIN on Wattpad: "Wilbur x male reader but highschool au, where wilbur has a crush on reader and he is trying to asked out reader to go to the prom with him."

[2069 words :3]

[He/him]

Description: Wilbur is a hopeless romantic and Tommy likes to eat dirt. (Wilbur x MReader)

[Read the rest under the cut]

{《☆》}

Wilbur picks at the dirt under his fingers as he sits through math class. His math teacher doesn't try to get him not to, even though he's the weird type. Tries too hard, acts too odd, calls tests 'festivals of learning'. Honestly, he kind of regrets doing this exchange program just because of that.

Well, not really. Wilbur likes this odd school, even if it's kinda fucked up. It has good music programs and he has a lot of good friends, a surprising amount of them British as well. And well... he maybe, sort of, kind of but not really, has a crush.

Wilburs face flushes just thinking about it. He ducks his head lower and picks his pencil up to pretend he's doing his work instead of daydreaming.

He glances over at you, doodling something one the margins of your math book with a small smile you probably didn't even realize you had. Wilbur sighed deeply, unable to look away as you fiddled with the pencil, almost dropping it. God, he thought you were gorgeous.

You looked up briefly and Wilbur panicked and snapped his head back down. He waited a few minutes, actually starting his math problems before he chanced a glance up. You were back to drawing and he relaxed with a relieved sigh. And then you looked back up again.

{《☆》}

Wilbur didn't know which God he had to thank that day but you didn't seem weirded out. In fact, you smiled at him in the hall earlier and almost made him have a heart attack. Wilbur hid his blushing face in his hands for a second, ignoring the conversation Fundy and Eret were having next to him.

"Are you good, Wil?" Niki asked, her lunch laid out neatly in front of her. She brushed her hand over his shoulder. "You look kind of red."

"I'm fine," he squeaked out, patting her hand before trying to shake it off. "Sorry, I'm good."

"He's having a breakdown because (Y/N) smiled at him earlier," Technoblade, the prick, says with no hint of remorse.

Wilbur scowls at him, kicking his leg under the table. "Shut it."

"Aww," Fundy coos mockingly, with a faked high-pitch British accent. "The fish fucker is in love."

"Not you too," Wilbur groans, flicking a bit of corn at the ginger.

"I think it's sweet how much you like him," Eret said, the only one Wilbur respected anymore. He picked up a piece of celery and talked while he chewed, "Even if it's just made you a bigger simp."

"I'm leaving," Wilbur says with a scowl, picking up his tray. He doesn't usually eat much during lunch anyways but the conversation made him lose the rest of his appetite. But, of course, the universe hated him.

Wilbur slammed into someone, sending corn all over himself, ruining his freshly washed navy jumper. "Just great, can you–,"

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," You said, reeling back. Your own lunch was tipped over the try, pouring out but somehow managing not to stain your clothes. "I didn't mean to! I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, you're good" He managed to say through a strangled throat. He set the empty tray on an empty table and started brushing corn off of his sweater, which stuck to it with a grudge.

"Here," You said, coming back when Wilbur didn't even notice you left. In your hand was a bunch of clumped up napkins that you very quickly shoved in his hands, shifting feet nervously. After a second of Wilbur rubbing corn off of his sweater, your face falls when you realize just how stained it was. "Oh no, your sweater. I ruined it."

"It's okay, I was- I was going to donate it anyway," He fumbled over his words, lying because, well, you were you. Grimacing a bit, he powered through. "It's not the best thing to wear for the rest of the day but it'll make do."

You seemed dejected either way. "I can go put your tray back for you?"

"You're fine, really. It was an accident," Wilbur assured you it was, dropping the messy napkins on his tray. Patting his sweater and grimacing at the way it was still wet. "I'll just go,"

"Wait," You blurted out, hands raised in a minor panic. A sudden thought rang in your brain and you quickly reached for your backpack. In your hands was a plain yellow sweater, one that looked (way too big/perfect/a bit small) for your size and something that would fit Wilbur well enough to last the day. "I had a backup sweater in my backpack and since I kinda ruined yours, I think it's only fair you use it."

Wilbur hesitated, shaking his head. "No it's fine, really."

"Please," You practically begged, giving Wilbur the sweetest puppy dog eyes he's ever seen. "I feel so bad. It's no trouble."

"Alright," He muttered, ducking his head but unable to hide the bright pink flush that spread across his face. He pulls the navy jumper off, careful not the touch the wet spot to his face.

You were looking away (if pale: face flushed), obviously embarrassed. Wilbur quickly realized that the shirt he wore under the jumper had ridden up, pulling it down sheepishly. Taking the sweater, he ran his hand down the soft cotton fabric. "Thanks."

"No problem," You shook your head, looking back at him. Shooting him a smile, you finally stepped back and let him walk to put his tray away.

Wilbur was left in such a daze, he hardly even registered the teasing his friends gave him when he sat back down.

{《☆》}

Prom was coming up and Wilbur had totally forgotten. He sat at his desk, staring at the pair of tickets his friend had given him on a whim, saying something had come up but that he should still enjoy prom with his boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

Because yeah, people have started being under the assumption that Wilbur had manned up and asked you out. Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. Wilbur groaned, hands wrapping tight around the yellow sweater he was still wearing, still had. He had tried giving it back once but the teacher had decided that day was going to be their first-ever pop quiz and he had to sit back down.

He had worn it yesterday, fiddling with the nice sleeves that wrapped around his wrist loosely enough to pinch the fabric under and twist it. But something about realizing the weight of the next week, the last week he had until prom came and he'd be forced to go alone.

Wilbur was screwed. He had a week to ask you out, likely get rejected, and then spend the night at prom depressed while his friends had fun. Just the idea of going made him queasy.

His door was knocked on rapidly. "Wilby! Wil! Wil! Open the door!" Tommy screeched from the other side, waiting for permission before he jumped onto Wilbur's bed.

"You can come in," He said, moving to sweep the tickets into a drawer, hand still caught tight on the sweater.

"Wilby!" Tommy says, clambering in with his blankie trailing behind him, the cow plush Wilur had bought him held tightly in his little fist.  "I did the big tree thing. I went to Tubbo's house and he has such a big tree and I know that you and baba climb the tr-un-k so I had Tubbo help me, because it's so tall! And he did! And I got to hold the small tree and there was this bug and-!"

"Tommy, why aren't you playing with Phil," Wilbur asked, turning away from his desk to open his arms wide at Tommy. His baby brother leaped off the bed, landing in his arms and giggling.

"Phil was being mean again," Tommy pouted, curled into Wilburs chest. "He told me to go play with you instead."

He frowned, but then smoothed it out. "Thank you for telling me, Tommy. And thank you for following the rules and knocking."

"I'm very smart, aren't I Wilby!" Tommy giggled again, kicking his feet out. Wilbur bounced his knee a bit, nodding. "When is Baba getting home. He said I couldn't play with his sword until he gets here and I'm bored."

"He's still at work, Toms, but how about we go play outside instead." Wilbur smiled down at the 8-year-old, pinching Tommy's button nose between his fingers.

"Okay Wilby!" Tommy said, dragging the teen with him. Wilbur didn't know how lucky he had to have been to get an exchange home that'd give him his own brother.

Tommy set down Henry neatly next to him before he started digging his fingers into the dirt. Wilbur picked up his blankie and made extra sure it was safe from dirt on the seat he laid it on. He sat down by Tommy, pulling his arms away whenever he tried to eat dirt.

"Oh, it's you," A pleasent voice said from not so far away. Wilbur looks up and sees you standing there, holding a leash tightly, a dog standing by your legs. "I didn't know you lived here."

"I'm part of an exchange program, the Minecrafts are my host family," Wilbur said, rushing to stand. Tommy, ever the loud mouth around family, is tucked behind his leg, bright gold curls barely peeking out. You take a small step closer and Wilbur's face starts turning red. "Uh, this is Tommy."

"Hello Tommy," You say, kneeling to be on even ground. The blond mutters a small "hi", still clutching Wilbur's pants but shuffled more into view. You stick your hand out, wearing the prettiest smile Wilbur has ever seen. "It's lovely to meet you."

Tommy's hands look so tiny in yours but he seems so happy to be doing something familiar. Phil's had him do similar around his buisness friends. Predictably, your dog rounds your legs, nudging Tommy. He giggles, gasping with an infatuation with animals in the way only Tommy could have.

"That's Kujo, he's really friendly," You say and Tommy turns to you, eyes turning into melted clouds.

"Can I play with him? Please," He asks, bottom lip jutted out into a plead. Wilburs heart softens and you melt at the sight of his little brother. You carefully hand him the leash, saying that Kujo knows better than to run but if he does try, it's okay if he let's go. When Tommy heads off, ever so gentle with guiding Kujo, you stand and smile at him.

"Is your sweater okay?" You ask out of the blue. Wilbur glances down at what he's wearing before processing the words.

Face flushed, he nods. "It took a few washes but it doesn't smell like corn anymore, so..."

"I'm glad," You smile easily, not minding him trailing off. "I've dumped food on myself more than once and it's horrible to get off. I have a sweater at home where the sleeve still smell like milk."

Wilbur laughs, feeling as though he's floating on air. It wasn't even the funniest joke in existence but Wilbur is sure he could never laugh harder, warmth bubbling up in his chest.  "That sounds horrid. Although I once managed to burn the fur off a coat once."

"No," You gasped, reaching up to cover your smile with your hand. "An arsonist is here, in my neighborhood. For shame."

Wilbur doesn't know what confidence overcame him but he quirks his lips into a wicked grin, "That's not the worst I've done."

"Oh? Aren't you Mr. Bad boy?" You say with a chuckle.

Again, it comes out without thinking. "Depends, do you like bad boys?" His cheeks flush instantly, hands curling up as he almost dies of embarrassment.

You raise a brow, lips curled into a smile. "I like cute boys that look cuter in my sweaters."

It takes him a second for it to process, his ears the brightest shade of red in just a second. "Ah well," he fiddles with the hem of his sweater. "I mean, uh... Are you going to prom?"

"I haven't been asked yet," You look over at Tommy, stting down and digging with Kujo helping. "But I think I'd like to go."

"Well, I—, do you wanna...," Wilbur grimaces, taking a second to breathe. "Would you like to go to prom with me?"

You positively beam at him, "I would love to."

{《☆》}

[Tommy eat dirt :DDD]

[Next post is going to be a c!Purpled fic and maybe a pt2 to Wildest Wills, and then updates will likely slow down with finals before I get back during break :P]

[Take care of yourself. Eat food, drink water, take a shower. You are loved and appreciated even if it's hard to accept. Reach out to your friends, they miss you as much as you miss them. Have a day <3]

[L0v3, k1ng]

Masterlist

Taglist: @creatorofstars

totenkopfe ❤

[Gender-neutral]

[900+ words]

Description: Being a god is hard when you're not the one with power. As you ponder this, a certain god comes to chat. (Dream x Reader)

[Read the rest under the cut]

{《☆》}

You spread your fingers wide, feeling the familiar curls of magic spread over your mortal form, encompassing it in more power than a normal mortal could handle. The withering grape vines held delicately in your hands come back to life, bright green leaves embued with your power blessing whoever decided to use them with the finest wine for years to come.

And as it always did when you used your magic to save your lifeblood, another god came to see who was messing with his.

"You again," Dream said, their mask fixed over their pointed nose, ever-calm and regal. "This is the fifth time this hour?"

"These are new and they are so weak. I must save their vineyard, they supply my biggest followers." You cast another hand to a few weak vines, thumbing a crumbling leaf between your fingers as it's too far gone death decays once more. "The nation is suffering from X-dee's happiness, for it has not stormed in many a night. If this goes on even the child cannot sing these plants better."

"I suppose that is true," The overseer of death looks upon the rows of decaying life and they sigh. They lift their own hand above yours, resting softly on top of yours as he pushes his magic into the air. For all the mortals' cries, Dream is not the god of death. He is the overseer and he is the judge but he is still fair and he is kind. The plant hums beneath your finger, back to life easier than it's known in weeks. "The mortals do not deserve your kindness, O'estatic one. They are greedy and one day they will mark their own end."

"And one day, albeit far later than theirs, so will we," You flip your hand to press your palm to his, sharing the most emotions in the easiest way godhood allowed. "We are not all-lasting as Chaos or Order, we are simply here as long as humans will it so. And not all humans are thieves or scoundrels, and not all thieves are scum amongst angels. As most humans are, I've found them to be complex."

You turn to your plants, sighing as you trail a vine. "Such fickle things, letting such irrationality guide their lives for so long, letting fear and indecisiveness plague their thought when if they thought to ration, would find people do not simply hate them for breathing. For what reason for plants if not humans to enjoy them, a fine wine such as the ones we lay to be created may never be tasted and appreciated because the right person decided for everyone else that nobody wanted them. I find that they are horrible things, but not for their own vile acts, but for the ones coming from a wrongfully good place."

"I haven't had such time to think like that," Dream admits, coming to your side. Here, so close to you, he tips the mask back from his face. Such opposing foes as yourselves, to think of each other as so close. Their lips are parted ever so slightly, his gaze focused on nothing as his mind runs.

"I only ever have time," You sigh, fixing the gold bands on your wrists. "You run a kingdom, I run a vineyard. Time is not something you come about sparingly, not without reason."

"So what is your reason?" Dream turns to you, his human-like freckles standing out amongst pale skin. It was always ironic to you, how someone who looked so human was so disconnected from them. The thought never lingered long,  drowned out by prayers from newly-wed wives asking to be blessed with child or for drunkards for the best wine, sometimes even from the occasional person questioning their gender and pleading for advice from the god known as their patron. "Surely a god as kind as you would have loyal followers."

You shake your head ruefully. "The drought has either killed them all away or shown the ones whose faith had always been waivered. When I showed no help in ending it, even if only for it being out of my control, they had chosen their stance and switched patronage." Now your time was filled with visiting your still loyal followers, as few and far in between as they were. Laying small blessings upon the bastard child's head for green thumbs and fixing a quick wine for the laboured mother who wished for a break.

Dream frowned, emotions so humane they were written like scriptures upon his face and detailed in his eyes curve and forehead wrinkles. "I apologize, O'estatic one. I had not thought of how the drought might've affected the ones still based here."

"It is my hometown," You shake your head even if Dream does not understand the meaning behind your words. "Perhaps I was not raised here but my mother's blood spilt on these holy grounds for me to be born godly. I will bless these as my home for as long as the land remains."

"I'm aware," Dream shakes his head although he does not argue. Fixing a gentle stare over the vineyard, he extends his arm to you. "Our work has been done for today though. Come for a visit to my kingdom. It has been a while since our last dinner."

"Alright," You place your hand gently on his forearm and like a godly voice had not saved these plants, disappeared within a gentle breeze of wind.

{《☆》}

[YOOOOOO I'm tired but I literally can't sleep lol I just watched ranboo's phasmophobia stream with bilzo and this one long af dnd video with Slmcc and I'm basically on the equivalent to drugs rn (/j)]

[I really don't have anything to say except my back freaking hurttsssss]

[L0v3, k1ng]

Masterlist

Taglist: @creatorofstars

K1NG LOOK AT THIS :D

LARX BRO THAT IS SO COOL

MY NAME GOT ALL THE PRETTY COLOURS :DDDD

Phasmophobia ❤

He/Him Pronouns

1400+ Words

Description: You plays Phasmophobia for the first time with Scott, Wilbur, and Jack. Wilbur teaches you how to play and then something extra. (WilburxReader)

A/N: This was at the start of me writing so it's like the only one in third person.

[Rest of the story under the cut]

Y/N spins leisurely, waiting for their computer to boot up. They hadn't been ready to stream today but Scott DM'ed them a few minutes ago and Y/N couldn't say no to their favorite cousin.

Opening discord, they shot Scott a quick message and then pulled up twitch on their second monitor. Y/N smiled as chat spammed "hello y/n!" as the 1-minute timer slowly ticked down

3

2

1

"Hello everyone!" Y/N exclaimed happily, giving a quick wave to the camera. "Today we're going to be streaming Phasmophobia with Scott, Jack Manifold, and Wilbur Soot."

They couldn't help but giggle as their chat flew by with excited proclamations. As usual, their lovely fans started spamming "Y/N CLOUT" and "Y/N SUPREMACY" until it was all theycould see. Laughing, Y/N started reading out donos and thanking subs.

They were in the middle of thanking a 5 gifted sub when Scott made a private DM group and started a call. Quickly joining, Y/N and Scott started their usual greeting.

"Scott!"

"Y/N!"

"Scott!!"

"Y/N!!"

"Scott!!!"

"Y/N!!!"

"Wilbur," A deep voice joined in. A startled laugh leaves them, making Scott and Wilbur join in.

"Ayup fellas." Jack Manifold startles Y/N again, his voice louder than either of their friend's voices. It's impossible to keep a straight face as they devolve into just the word "ayup".

When Y/N finally manages to load into the game, their characters face to face with Wilbur's. "Hello, Wil."

"Hello, Y/N," he says back, not moving. They keep stock still, looking straight into the camera like they assume Wilbur's doing. Actually, they pull up his stream on mute and barely manage to hide a grin when they realize he is. Taking a quick glance at his chat, Y/N can't help but giggle.

"BLUSHBUR"

"AWW WILBY IS RED"

"BLUSHBUR"

"I still prefer chadbur"

Wilbur breaks out into a giggle too, brushing his hair away from his eyes. It's odd being in proximity chat, but it's still funny to hear the distant noise of Scott and Jack arguing.

"Are you going to move?"

"Are you?"

Rolling their eyes, Y/N smiles as they move over to Jack, who's trying to throw the basketball at Scott. They devolve into "ayup" again as soon as Wilbur starts trying to talk to Scott.

Y/N shoots their webcam a quick grin and move towards the whiteboard where Scott's checking his items. With a totally innocent voice, they start bringing up last week's family party. (don't worry, covid doesn't exist in these au's unless I say so

"So, baby cousin, have you been drinking recently?”

"Oh no," he groans, instantly realizing his mistake in inviting Y/N.

"I mean, last week you were absolutely hammered and so I'm just worried." They coo, amping up their innocent tone until it sounds like they're speaking to a child. "Come on, sugar pea, tell your older cousin all your darkest secrets that I totally won't use for blackmail."

"Are you blackmailing Scott, Y/T/N?" Wilbur surprises you, his deep voice highly amused but also right next to you. They spin your avatar around, face to face, again, with Wilbur's.

They click their tongue, sighing dramatically. "I suppose I was trying to blackmail him until you came over, Wilbur Soot."

Glancing over at his stream, Y/N spots him grin mischievously at the camera. With a heavy voice, he utters four words that turn them bright red."Was I too distracting?"

"You're such a dick." They laugh.

"That's Scott's cousin you're flirting with," Jack Manifold cuts in with a mocking jeer. Y/N gratefully exit the situation and start setting up their items instead.

They can practically hear the mock annoyance in Scott's voice when they go back to bothering him. He loves Y/N though, despite the teasing.

{...}

Y/N realized after they arrived at the house that they've never played the game before.

"Scott," They start, putting their head in their hands. "How do you play?"

"Do you not know how?" Wilbur said incredulously. Jack was picking up stuff off the carts, crouching down by pressing buttons Y/N didn't know.

Y/N flushed, running a hand through their (h/l) hair. Chat both pities them and bullies them, exactly like they knew chat would. "Well, I've never played before."

"That's fine," Scott said, picking up his own gear and walking out of the van. "Wilbur can teach you. Right, Wil?"

"Sure?"

Scott didn't hear because he was already making his way into the house.

Awkwardly, they started talking. "So-? Uh, how do you pick things up?"

"You press E," Wilbur chuckled. "G is to drop things. C is crouch, J is for Journal which you'll fill out with info on the ghost, flashlight should be T."

Nodding along, Y/N started picking up things from the shelf. "What do all these things do?"

"Some of them are obvious, like Thermometer. But others are easier to explain as we go. You should pick up a camera, crucifix, and flashlight. I'll take the EMF, a camera, and a spirit box."

Wilbur's explanations weren't too hard to follow. The two of you stuck together as they wandered the house. It was two stories with a basement and the darkness was only slightly terrifying.

"Victoria Gonzales," Wilbur called out. They were about to leave the room when their flashlights started flickering. Y/N's thermometer was picking up freezing temperatures even if the room seemed safe. Their flashlights were still flickering, so Wilbur and Y/N huddled into a corner together, silently waiting.

Quietly, Wilbur started whispering to Y/N. "We can probably leave the room, right?"

"Isn't it still hunting?" They whispered back. Wilbur rolled his eyes, "C'mon, don't you trust me?"

Silently, Y/N thought about it. They did.

"Fine."They sighed. "But if anything happens I will blame you.'"

Wilbur grinned, "Absolutely nothing will happen to you, dear."

Y/N grumbled as they silently followed after Wilbur's character, pink dust scattered across their face.  The halls were dark, grey walls plain and boring but not any less terrifying. 

And unlike what Wilbur said, Y/N died 30 seconds later. It was far too quick for them to register what was even happening before the demon's hand was clawing their face out and their body was flat on the ground. 

Wilbur was next, the demon opening the doors to the closet they were hiding in and instantly killing him. They stalked away, leaving two corpses

"Wow, I never thought you'd be stupid enough to try and do this." Wilbur deflects instantly. Y/N sighs, sadly watching their corpse just lay there.

"Well, you're here with me, so that makes you stupid too."

Wilbur rolled his eyes, grinning softly. Y/N looks over, their eyes soft and shining. [Am I doing semi-realism in this now? Whatever, go with it]

Reaching out, Wilbur held their hand in his. It wasn't the smoothest, but the callouses were beautiful to him. He could die happy (if he wasn't already dead) just holding Y/N's hand.

"You did good," Wilbur murmered, closing the distance between them. Smiling, Y/N lifted their hands and caressed Wilburs cheek. It was gentle. Safe.

"So did you."

Pressing their foreheads together, Wilbur sighed softly. "You know, there's something I haven't taught you yet."

"That is?" Y/N grinned.

Wilbur closed the gap completely, pressing their lips together. It was quick and sweet, their noses bumped together but when Y/N tilted their head it all just fit. They chased one kiss after another, tasting the sweet mix of Wilbur's cherry gum and Y/N's bubblegum ring pop.

Wilbur leaned back, his hands placed on their waist tightly. "I guess that's one thing you don't need to learn."

They breathed heavily, still gazing into each other's eyes. Wilbur smiled and then the world flipped.

{《☆》}

"I got it right, it was a demon," Scott bragged over Jack's defeated guess of a Wraith. Wilbur blinked and his chat was going crazy, full of the same thing.

Y/NBUR

Y/NXWILBUR

KINDA GAY KINDA POG

KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE

"Shut up chat," Y/N said, Wilbur glanced up, grinning. Maybe his chat wasn't the only one being annoying

{《☆》}

[Okay, guys. So I started writing this off of the second phasmophobia stream Wilbur had and halfway through he went live with another phasmophobia stream and it was the best and worst timing because I couldn't focus but also *Wilbur my beloved*]

[-L0v3, k1ng]

💜 Trouble's A Coming

Request by @ -KIYOORIN on wattpad: "Purpled x male reader where reader find out quackity blow up purpled’s ufo and decided to comfort him (i have watch the full thing on purpled's lore so yeah sorry:"))"

(700+ words)

(He/him pronouns)

Description: Quackity fucks up and there seems to be a theme with minors following in their gaslighters footsteps.

[Read the rest under the cut]

{《☆》}

"Take the gamble, Purpled," Quackity said, hand outstretched. His lips were spread unnaturally, half of his face twitching, scarred skin pulled at but still barely moving. "Take the gamble and you can change everything ."

"You know where to find me!" Quackity screams when he turns and walks away. Purpled's suit is dripping wet as thunder strikes something close by. "You know where I am Purpled!"

He chewed at his lips, trying to ignore the trembling in his hands. Maybe it was a bad coping method (or whatever Puffy called them) but Purpled's hand ached to burn away the anger and his sword was the easiest way to do that.

And his vision blurred together. Flashes of vague recognizance of his surrounds before they melted away into raw fury. Sounds clattering around his head for a while after they happened. It could've been hours or days before he opened his eyes again and saw.

His hands were bloody, aching and raw. There was gunpowder and silk and rotting blood dripping off his palms, his sword was coated in so much more.

Now, emotions raw after having his obsidian thick anger peeled away, he trembled and hiccups. Purpled didn't feel care much for his legacy, his legacy didn't matter to him, but the ufo... it was his way home. He could make another but it'd take months and without the right resources it'd never make it off planet. He was screwed, stuck on a shitty green and blue planet that rotated a fucking sun.

If he could get angry, he would. Tears welled up behind his eyes and he wanted to slam his fists into the trees.

"Purpled?" Someone called out. He didn't want to look, didn't want them to see the mess he made of himself. Gentle hands touched his shoulder and he jerked away, whirling to face them.

You stood there, lips pressed together into a frown. Eyes wide, you veered a bit closer, close enough for Purpled to hear the way your breathing stopped. "Oh Purpled..."

"Don't talk to me like that," he said, heart pounding in his chest. He slapped your hand away, wiping at his face. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," You said, glancing over at his sword, edges dull and coated in blood. You look back up and your face is full of softness and concern. It makes his stomach turn. "You don't have to tell me anything. Just let me heal you up. Please,"

"Okay," he murmured, unable to meet your eyes. He felt... bad about everything right now but you didn't deserve to feel bad too. He sat on the ground legs stretched out in front of him.

You sat by his side, already swirling a healing pot in hand. You reach up and touch a scratch and even your careful hands make Purpled hiss in pain. "You really got fucked up this time, huh?"

It's a subtler question than last time, a small prod to see if he's willing to talk. And it's a mixture of guilt and tears that spill from his mouth when he wordlessly agrees. "Quackity blew up my ufo."

The kindness melts from your expression, lips twisted into a frown. "He did what?" You poured a bit of healing on a rag and started wiping at his face, like a parent would to a child with food on their face. "I swear if I ever see that man,"

Purpled shook his head, a small smile on his face at the idea. You cared a lot for a lot of people and yet he still found it crazy that you cared. "I've got it handled, (Y/N). Don't worry."

"I know you do, you're strong," You sighed. You put the rag down, reaching up to trace now smooth skin, cradling his cheek in your palm. "I'm still here for you. No matter what."

"I know you are," He said right back at you, smiling softly.

He reaches up, fingers lightly hovering over yours before he relaxes back. In a spur of the moment decision, he relaxes enough for his antennaes to pop out of his hair, glowing a dim purple. It's a sign of trust on his home planet but the thought makes his heart burn.

"They're very pretty," You say, moving to throw your legs over his lap. It doesn't even seem to bother your alien friend, who just moves his legs a bit before closing his eyes, head resting back against a tree. You pour more healing potion and wiped away the rest of the blood.

As the sun starts rising, you lay asleep with your legs tangled together.

{《☆》}

[This gave a lot more relationship vibes than intended. Up to interpretation I suppose.]

[Anyways my Technoblade merch arrived in the mail today pogs in chat boysss !!! I might be able to write pt2 to Wildest Wills before finals, who knows!]

[L0v3, k1ng]

Masterlist

Taglist: @creatorofstars

Rest well, we'll miss you.

HAPPY DREAM DAY

VAMPIRR WILBUR >>> HES AMAZING ILY ILY

THANK YOU SO MUCH KIND ANON, I AGREE VAMP WILBUR >>> ANYONE ELSE I ADORE VAMPIRES

[L0v3, k1ng]

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 (𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐨𝐭 𝐱 𝐌!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.

{《☆》}

𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘴. "𝘚𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦."

𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘥, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘊𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥. "𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦."

{《☆》}

Chapter 4 is Out!!!

:3

[L0v3, k1ng]