A Thousand Words for Every Chord I Could Ever Begin
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“Tommy, please-” Wilbur’s voice cracked, and what he said next came out much more fragile than he wanted. “You’re all I have left.” Tommy froze, and a burst of hope bloomed in his chest. “Please don’t leave.”
When his brother turned to face him, though, that hope dissipated like fog under the morning sunlight. Righteous anger lit his face like a beacon. Then, it changed. Confusion, pain- realization?
Tommy’s mouth hung slightly open, eyes wide and he breathed out, “you’re scared.”
Wilbur let out a startled laugh. Him - scared? He didn’t feel fear anymore. Not since he'd buried all his emotions away, so many long years ago. Not since he'd died. “I’m not fuckin’ scared, Tommy,” he scoffed.
Wilbur fucks up big-time, gets friend-dumped, and then finally decides to take his chance at redemption.Series
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“You said,” Tommy started slowly, “that talking through emotions is good, right? Helps you identify them and move on and shit?”
Puffy nodded. “Yeah, of course.”
“I,” he kept his gaze steady on the wall over her shoulder, a frown on his face, “I don’t think Wilbur ever told me how he felt. Before he died.”Therapy, a difficult conversation about past relationships and responsibility, and a two-way shovel talk with an older brother.
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Tommy padded over, raising a hand to knock politely, but froze before ever making contact with the wood. A strangled guitar strum sounded from inside, followed by a quiet, bit-out, “fuck!” and pencil scribblings on paper.
Tommy bit his lip. By all means, he should let know Wilbur he was here. It was the right thing to do. But… he didn’t want to interrupt. Even before L’Manberg, Wilbur had been very insistent on not being disturbed while songwriting.
And it had been so long since he’d heard him play.Based on the headcanon that c!Wilbur wrote Jubilee Line about his time in the afterlife.
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“You owe me a favour, for getting you out of Limbo," Dream said. "What do you say,” he leaned in close, and Wilbur shuddered, pulled away, “you get me out of here? An eye for an eye.”
Wilbur made a big show of mulling it over, considering. Then, he looked him in the eyes, grinned wickedly, and said, “Nah, I don’t think so.”
“What?” Dream snapped viciously, expression dangerous and confused, like a cornered animal. Oh, this was fun. “What do you mean, no? You owe me. I’m your hero, you said so yourself.”
“Yup! And I’m the villain,” Wilbur reminded him brightly.
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Wilbur visits Dream in the prison. It doesn't go quite as he expected.
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Stars (Watching Over the Fallen) by ace_enderchest (TheoreticallyAnAuthor)
Fandoms: Dream SMP
13 Aug 2021
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Death changes a man.
Wilbur Soot sits outside his burger van and looks up at the stars. Death changes a man, and there is currently a little ghost sitting in his own personal Hell.
Don't get him wrong: Wilbur does not care for that pathetic little warped reflection of himself, not in any way, shape, or form. But it's hard to forget thirteen long years alone with only the occasional scathing words relayed through a dot matrix to keep you company.
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Wilbur stargazes and has a one-sided conversation with his dead ghost.
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A Cat a Day Keeps the Creepers Away by ace_enderchest (TheoreticallyAnAuthor)
Fandoms: Dream SMP
25 Dec 2021
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Creepers fear cats, keeping a minimum distance of six blocks away at all times. Even when pursuing a player, if said player has a tamed cat by their side, they will not approach, nor begin detonation. Cats are thus a valuable companion for any potential explorer who may not be able to handle these living bombs in close-range combat. Any player fearing a creeper's explosions is advised to always keep a cat nearby.
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Wilbur is in sore need of a cat, even if he doesn't quite realize it yet.
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I Can't Let You In (Not Again) by ace_enderchest (TheoreticallyAnAuthor)
Fandoms: Dream SMP
07 Nov 2021
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The wind gusted. Rain poured harder. Wilbur glanced up at the sky, a frown creasing his brow, and said, “You can’t walk home in this, man. It’s miserable.” Tubbo shrugged. What else was he supposed to do, wait alone in Quackity's creepy restaurant for the storm to blow over? No thank you. “C’mon, you can crash at my place until it lets up.” And he was already off, his back to Tubbo, hands in the pockets of his billowing trenchcoat.
“I don’t- I should really go, Wilbur-!” Tubbo called. It was true; he needed to get back home to his son.
Wilbur turned, expectant. "It’s no big deal, Tubbo. Nothing owed, or anything. Just to get you out of the rain,” he said. Tubbo hesitated. He kind of really wanted to be with Michael, and kind of didn’t want to spend time with Wilbur. After a moment with no response, though, Wilbur’s expression turned pleading. “C’mon, man, please? It’s been ages since we’ve caught up.”
Tubbo internally sighed. “Just until the rain lets up.”
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Wilbur and Tubbo; on hot chocolates, difficult conversations handled poorly, ruined brotherhood, and the beginning of rekindled trust.Series
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Do Not Stand by my Grave (I am Not There) by ace_enderchest (TheoreticallyAnAuthor)
Fandoms: Dream SMP
17 Nov 2021
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“It’s been a year,” Wilbur said, barely a murmur. He pulled his knees up to his chest, and rested his head on them, staring out at the remnants of his country laying ahead, bathed in the morning sun's light. Eret nodded solemnly next to him.
“It has.”
“A year since I destroyed it. A year since,” he swallowed, suddenly struggling to speak, “I died."
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On the anniversary of L'Manburg's second destruction, two traitors have a talk.
Or, Wilbur never got a grave, did he.Series