Wilbur Lied

wilbur lied

oh my god, he told phil he won the election

he lied to phil and phil didn't know oh my god i sympathize with phil a lot more now actually

thinking about c!phil. c!phil & techno & how they are soldiers who breathe violence -- how that impacts phil's parenting.

thinking about how they canonically fought together as the antarctic empire. thinking about phil & techno as fellow soldiers, both emotionally stunted, & how they found solace in knowing the other is absolutely loyal. an bloodforged unspoken trust deeper than any verbal oath they could've made. thinking about how often they might have pushed through pain & left it festering & unaddressed bc it was all they knew: don't talk about it. carry on & deal with trauma only when it crops up. it's probably the way both of them deal with it best, but that's not... mentally sustainable.

thinking about how c!phil consistently resorts to violence to solve the big problems (wilbur, l'manberg). thinking about how he can't address ~emotions~ for squat. thinking about how c!techno does the same things.

thinking about the probable lessons they learned from war. the ends justify the means. violence is the only language that people respect. pay an insult back a hundredfold to establish your strength; people will back off. trauma is weakness & people will take advantage of it. keep your true feelings & loyalties close to your chest & continually reevaluate the situation. alliances could fall apart any moment, any situation could be a trap, so paranoia is survival. if you need to, make the hard choice & live with it. blunt the emotional pain by bottling up/dulling your emotions--whatever works. (I'm not super familiar with SMP Earth, so please add some examples if you are!)

thinking about how all of this really doesn't translate well to parenting.

but if that's all c!phil knows, we can't expect him to do it differently.

¿Pero que carajos esta pasando? De la nada ya no entiendo a nadie, puta madre ya no se puede hacer la torre. ¿Quién chingados hizo esto? ¿Fue Dios?

Cabrón

hmm today i think i will build the tallest tower possible

My darling, I love you

Her lips are like alcohol

They leave a burning sensation after I kiss her

And they make me feel as if I am commiting a sin

But if I really am,

Then isn't she worth sinning for?

Isn't a love as twisted and wrong as ours worth it?

Isn't it enough to know that when I wake up the next day she will be by my side?

My darling.

I love you.

I love the scars in your arms,

I love your loud laugh, always appearing at the worst moments,

I love your voice,

I love the stories that you write for me,

I love how you look in that dress that you hate so much,

I love your reflection in the mirror

and that you always refuse to see it,

I love that you've never told me you loved me,

but still showed me that you do.

I love you,

I love you,

I love you.

Tommy is dead. The server reacts.

(word count: 1,732)

—————

“What have you done?”

His voice is a reedy whisper, thin with horror and the realization that he is too little, too late. He doesn’t expect the sound to carry over the lava, but a response comes soon enough.

“He wouldn’t stop talking. And he killed the cat.”

Dream’s voice is even, calm, almost a bit defensive, as if he truly believes that he is justified in his actions. Sam swallows down his mounting nausea, places his trident against the floor to steady himself. The lava crackles, hisses, bubbles, orange and glowing, and he can’t cross it. Not now. Not when the security threat remains unresolved. Not when any wrong move on his part could very well mean Dream’s escape.

But he’s already made the wrong move, hasn’t he? Made the wrong move, and Tommy has paid for it. Has been paying for it, this whole last week. He kept him in there, kept him locked in a box with Dream even though he knows very well how it would effect him, kept him locked in with the reasoning that it was temporary, that he would let him out as soon as he could, that he couldn’t risk Dream’s release for anyone, even for Tommy.

But it’s not temporary.

Tommy was sixteen and loud-mouthed and bright-eyed when Sam last saw him, when he said that this would be the last time, that he was going to put his past behind him and look to a new start. Tommy will always be sixteen and loud-mouthed and bright-eyed, and locked in a box. There will be no new start. No seventeenth birthday. No triumphant return, no shining hotel. No tricks, no scams, no pranks.

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PSMP is the exact reason I love this community and absolutely fucking despise it