🌸𝕄ℂ𝕐𝕋 𝕆ℕ𝔼𝕊ℍ𝕆𝕋𝕊🌸 (SMALL HIATUS)

🌸Wilbur🌸 - Since I Saw Vienna

TW: SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS. BASICALLY A LOT OF NEGATIVE THOUGHTS.

COVER BY: @/lumillae on twt!!

Words: 1174

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The cute bomber jacket you've had since sixth form, adorned with patches of places you've been.

Tommy was a good kid. Sure he may of been a bit loud, and annoying, and caused a lot of trouble, but he was a good kid. He stood out amongst a crowd; his messy blonde hair, his vibrant blue eyes that shone like the sky, his fashion choice of the same red and white t-shirt. He loved his friends, he was a very social person. He was always hanging out with them, whether that be pranking, business, or just a bit of banter, he was always with them. So it wasn't hard to tell that this exile hit him hard. He was sitting down on the mud floor, his lit up face turned to a miserable frown. He missed them, anyone could tell that.

Is nothing on my khaki coat I got, from a roadside when I was sixteen.

His only companion, Ghostbur, tried to cheer him up in his own way, giving his some "blue" to help him; but he didn't, nothing could help him then. It felt like Tommy was stuck in a daily loop of pain, crying and misery; wondering what it would be like if he was back in L'manburg with his friends.

My boots are from airports, my backpack's from friends.

Ghostbur was completely different to Tommy. He had no real distinguishable personality, most of his traits were shaped by his friends, his jokes a copy of what he found on WikiHow. The only real personality he had was his books. Ever since his "rebirth", he had started to write books to document his remaning memories - the smell of bread, the revolution, Tommy (he's a child), and more.

I'm not a man of substance, and so I'll pretend, to be a wanderer, wondering, leaving ascetic belongings in hostels and restaurant bins.

It's still quite weird to be a ghost, not alive yet not dead. He can't remember anything, he doesn't really understand any of the refrences to the old him - he doesn't like them talking about the old him, he wasn't a good person. He feels like an outsider, not fitting into the puzzle correctly. He spent most of his days haunting the Prime Path, waiting for someone to start up a conversation with him, waiting to fill his void of an empty life. He's glad he has this chance, another chance at life, to atone for his past sins. Atleast he's not permanently dead like Schlatt.

The roads are my home, horizon's my target, if I keep on moving, never lose sight of it.

Despite all of these terrible circumstances, the two boys tried to stay positive. Keyword, tried. Tommy kept on telling himself that someone other than Dream or Technoblade would visit. Ghostbur once caught him staring longily at the purple portal for a solid few hours, waiting there tirelessly for anyone, anyone, to come and say hello to him. It was hard to watch the once happy and energetic child slip further and further into insanity and depression. I wonder what would've happened if Tommy could've stayed at L'manburg, if his friend had never exiled him.

Treating my memory of you like a fire, let it, burn out, don't fight it, and try to move on.

The biggest obstacle for Ghostbur were his memories. Ah how pesky they were. They only seemed to show the empty man bits and pieces of his true self - he never got enough to form a coherent story, never enough to learn more about who he was, what terrible crimes he had committed. Everyone refused to tell him, merely hinting towards it. Tommy one mentioned him blowing up L'manburg, but that couldn't be true. All of his memories of L'manburg were happy. Why would he destroy the nation he loved ever so much?

It's been sixty weeks since I saw Vienna, a bandage and a wide smile slapped across my face.

Tommy missed Tubbo. He really fucking missed him. They were together since the beginning, since the Disc War. How could his friend throw all of that away, everything they had worked for. The discs weren't just some music toy that helped him sleep at night; they were a symbol of their friendships and hardships, together. Why couldn't he see that?? If only Tommy had spoke up more. If only he had let Tubbo take control he wouldn't have that outburst that caused his exile. If only he had been a better friend, the friend Tubbo deserved, no, needed.

I'll pick up my hiking boots when I am ready, and I'll put down my roots when I'm dead.

Blue eyes met bubbling red. Tommy stared down at the scorching hot lava once again. He had came to this exact spot multiple times now, spending who knows how long just staring at the pit of death. The end of all his suffering. The last time he came here Dream had stopped him, telling him it wasn't his time to go yet. But what if he was wrong. Everyone had left him, his only purpose was to help his friends. Now that they too had left him, what more did he even have? What's the point of living if everyone will eventually leave you, betray you just like Tubbo did.

The distance is futile, come on don't be hasty, you'll get that feeling deep inside your bones.

A hand was placed on his shoulders, startling the young boy slightly. He looked and met eyes with the empty ghost. "You okay, Tommy?" He asked him, slowly pulling him away from the edge of the bridge with a suprisingly strong grip. Tommy didn't respond, only looking at him with irritated red eyes, blue crystals ready to flood down his porcelain face at any moment. He took in a sigh, for once the ghost man wasn't oblivious and stupid, he was helpful. It reminded Tommy of his family. It reminded him of Wilbur. He missed him a lot.

I'll be gone then, for when you must be alone.

"Listen, Tommy. One day, you're gonna head back into L'manburg, and you, Tubbo and the rest of your friends are gonna take back what's rightly yours alright? You and Wilbur started L'manburg, it's your nation, Tommy, you can't give up on it after all these challenges." The young boy started to cry, his face wet with tears and sniffles. Even after death, he was still Wilbur underneath it all. Even if the ghost boy wouldn't admit it. That speech from his old friend, his President, was all he needed to give him energy for the day. "Thank you, Ghostbur." He would've loved to hug him right now, to feel the compassion of another human was all he needed. But instead he just got a head pat from Ghostbur, that seems to be the extent of his ghostly form. "No problem, Tommy."