𝗦𝘁𝗮𝘆 𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗲| Wilbur Soot x Reader ✔︎

iv

"You uhm— you're real..." I mutter to myself in shock, watching as Wilbur snatches my phone away from me without any prior warning.

He observes the glowing object with small bits of curiosity, but doesn't question anything out loud. Instead, he sees the next video auto-play, watching as Will used his skin to adventure around in Minecraft.

"What the hell am I looking at," It seemed like things finally registered for him as familiar faces passed by, Quackity, Eret, George, Dream, Tommy.

Wilbur internalized it without much visible issue, but I could tell he was struggling to cope with the fact that he was fresh out of a video game after supposedly dying.

And I don't even think he knew what a video game was. "Well you see—"

He shoves the phone back into my hand to cut me off, not wanting to hear the next set of words. "I'm in the afterlife, anything's possible."

His mutters were worrisome as he walked off, and I internally debate on what to tell the fast receding man, coat blowing behind him with the fall wind, sorta like Doctor Who. How cinematic.

"You're not in the afterlife, you know," He stops and turns around to me slowly; I swallow the spit in my throat harshly, taking a small breath. "This is Iowa."

He raises a brow, suddenly stalking back towards me, and I regret everything I've done up until this moment. How did my idiot ass even get here again?

"Iowa? What are you saying?" He inquired, towering over me with his head bowed, eyes seeming to glare into my soul.

I fidget, looking to see the few people still around staring at us like we're crazy. "Just— come with me."

I grab Wilburs wrist, a small electric shock making me jump as I pull him the rest of the way to my house so we can get inside and away from the eyes of the public.

He doesn't complain as I drag him up the stairs, and eventually into my apartment, shutting the door.

And suddenly, I don't know who's crazier...

The living version of a deranged and manipulative Minecraft persona.

Or the one believing that's what he is while dragging the stranger into their own home.

"Okay, listen to me when I say this, and don't get mad," I warn, But Wilbur seems too interested in looking around at the room, eyes glancing over small things like lights and vases.

My fingers snap in his face and he looks to me, raising an expectant brow. I pause, rethinking my course of action the second his attention is on me.

Did he— is he strong? Could he hurt me?

"This isn't the afterlife, this is Iowa," I repeat myself from earlier, trying to see if he understands. But his expression tells me he's still lost. "When you died, you— oh my God... I sound crazy..." I mumble, stopping before I can express to him what I think happened.

He won't believe me, no way. That's some kind of fanfiction plot, and this is real life. I have to be reasonable...

But he's right there!

Same face, same clothes, same demeanor, tone, actions, everything!

How could that be possible unless it was Wilbur Soot, the persona that the internet fell in love with?!

"It's just— this isn't the afterlife, that's all. You went somewhere... different," I explain, feeling as if that reasoning was a bit more believable.

Wilbur nods, still looking around. "Is this your house?" He walks farther in, seeming to not care about where he ended up after dying.

I guess I wouldn't really care either, if I'm dead then I don't have to worry about anything else, that includes where I end up.

Well... he's not actually dead right now, but I get it. Everyone he would've possibly cared about is back in the DSMP, here he's just a random guy.

"Yeah. Uhm, would you like something to eat?"

☁︎︎

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I didn't break the third wall... I just came really close to doing so.