guyuem
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A fictional explanation for what broke Tommy and Will. (Because something else *must* have happened, right?)
First, two conversations toward a reconciliation.
One oblivious Will. Two hurting friends. A bit of self-discovery.
Then the boys have a night out.
And finally (of course) a night in. -
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"We have to leave," Wilbur pulled at Tommy's hand. "We have to leave now." Tommy didn't budge.
"What's going to happen to us?" He whispered, staring at at the pale light on the pavement.
Wilbur couldn't answer. They couldn't go back to the group home, they would give them new placements, separate them, and then Wilbur would never see Tommy again. They couldn't go back home, Wilbur still heard the screaming from the open window.
"We'll figure something out, I promise."
Or: Wilbur and Tommy run away from another foster home. Techno and Phil are roommates who just so happen to catch them stealing from their trash.
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Drowning Breath (Enjoy the Game) by ErissTheMean for HollowBanana, Toovski, ElbowAnarchy
Fandoms: Dream SMP
26 Feb 2026
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[Welcome to SONG OF THE SPILLED ICHOR! The system wishes you the best game!]
Wilbur Soot died and in his last moments, was given a rare chance of redeeming New Beginnings- a boon, he doesn't understand. Thanks to that, his death is not the end stop but the new beginning in a new world! A world where he can use a strange System...?
What is a Player?!
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Bookmarked by guyuem
19 Mar 2026
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Wilbur tilts his head, wrinkling his nose. “Do you smell that, Techno? That’s the rot from your garbage personality. You reek.”
Techno’s shocked face stares back at him for a moment, only for it to contort into disdain. That’s right, Wilbur thinks, hate me. Hate me, to the marrow of your bones. Hate me as much as I hate you, so much that you can see me for the filth that I am – the filth that we both are.
Wilbur continues talking, “This is my court, you hear me? Not Schlatt’s, not yours. Mine. If I tell you to jump, you say ‘how high’. If I tell you to run, you better fucking run.”
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While Techno Blade enjoys the comfortable life of a successful Olympic fencer, Wilbur Soot drifts through his twenties using nicotine and self-loathing as his lifeboat. The unanticipated change that pushes him out of his routine is the early retirement of Tubbo Beloved, Techno's student -- thrilled by the news, Wilbur sets off, only to find himself staring at his past right in its face.
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Wilbur Soot is a dead and buried man, and there is nothing that can change that. Not gods, swinging divine judgement loosely from the sky; not a book, leather-bound and with the promise of return; not even simply taking his corpse and shocking it with as much electricity as a simple redstone circuit will give you. Wilbur’s body is being eaten by maggots, he can practically feel them gnawing away at him now, and he is in a place between worlds.
Every whistle of a train gone by is the whisper of a life that he doesn’t get to live – will never get to live. Every turn he makes is greeted by a hulking brick wall, every step he takes is from one sad, grey tile to the next.
This remains the same when he steps off the train and back into harsh, bright existence. Though, not life. Because Wilbur Soot is dead.
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OR: short and shitty oneshot of wilbur thinking he's dead even after revival. yippee!!