Tainted Perception | Wilbur Soot Angst (ORIGINAL)

Conscience

TW: Swearing, derealization, mention of blood/injury

A/N: Only took 5 hours to write this, lmao, still kinda crappy, too (as in incredibly cheesy)

At this point Techno was getting slightly annoyed. Why wasn't Phil answering? He understood that things happened, but they were his friends. They trusted him, and supposedly, he trusted them. Of course, the man had rights to his privacy, but this wasn't just a small thing, it had been affecting the entire community for a while now.

Sighing, the pinkett let his hand fall to his side, he didn't feel like being productive anymore. It wasn't like he would be able to post it, if he finished editing anyways.

Ding! The man practically dove for his mouse, moving the cursor to the Discord icon at the bottom of the screen. Phil?

Ph1LzA

sorry I took so long m8

there was some thigns going on

Techno paused, considering the different ways he could respond to this. On the one hand, he was worried. On the other, he was kinda mad, this was a big deal and Phil had been keeping them in the dark.

Technoblade

like wat?

Ph1LzA

i cant tell u

sorry m8

Technoblade

y

Ph1LzA

its complicated

and hard to explain

Technoblade

is it about will?

-

Phil paused as he stared at the screen. He had known Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo had told everyone in his absence (he had gotten about 10 million texts about it), but it was still strange to see the bluntness of the way Techno asked.

Ph1LzA

yes

Technoblade

ah

There was nothing else to say. Gosh, Phil wished he could tell him, but it wasn't his decision, it was Wilbur's. And, he respected that. Sighing into his hands, he spared a glance at the thirty other contacts that he would have to go through to make sure everyone knew he was alive. He could do it later. Suddenly, Will shot up with a gasp.

Turning, the man raised an eyebrow, "You good, mate?" The brunet nodded, taking deep, shaky breaths, as he tried to calm his racing heart.

"Y-yeah, yeah, I am."

-

Wilbur was not fine. He felt strangely on edge, as if everything was on the brink of collapse, as if everything was about to go wrong. But, he had to pretend. He didn't want to worry Phil. Taking a breath, he made his way unsteadily into the kitchen, his legs threatening to give out as he walked. What was wrong with him?

Maybe it had something to do with his dream. He shivered at the thought. Tommy lying in The Pit, his body limp with a halo of blood surrounding him. His own mocking laugh cheering his brothers on, encouraging the pain, the unnecessary suffering. Then there was something else. Why couldn't he remember?

It was on the tip of his tongue, the memory dancing in front of him, but before he could reach out and snatch it, it pulled away. All he remembered was the sting of something on his hands, like a hot plate held for a little too long. And, the feeling of rejection, like a person that he cared about, that he loved, stabbed him in the back. For all he knew, maybe that person was him.

The man definitely fit the description. But, why? Why was his past self haunting him? "Well, it's not like I want to be here. The only reason I am, is because your conscience cooked me up. So, don't get mad at me." Will thought over the words for a second, his words. He had heard of instances like this, of course. People's conscience conjuring things from their past to try to tell them something. So, what was he trying to say?

Like I said, cheesy. Have a wonderful day/night! Take care of yourselves!