FratBoy_WilburSoot

Frat Boy Wilbur Soot, College AU

Spy Wilbur Soot

Special Agent Wilbur Soot

Rockstar Wilbur Soot

British boy in a band

Fantasy Wilbur Soot

Fantasy Wilbur Soot (Half-Siren)

Knell

a young prince with a heart of ice

DemigodWilburSoot

“-Ello?” A voice breaks through your consciousness. “Do you think they’re dead?” “Tommy, shut up.” “Hello?” You blink slowly, waking up to see four people in your vision, one of them snapping in your face. “You alive?”

Technoblade

Technoblade, King of the Nether

WilburSoot_Upset

I needed to get yelled at :/

Callum

a rebel with a cause

Enyo Runerth

The End was quiet in a way the Overworld would never understand. Not peaceful—never that—but still. A quiet of drifting obsidian, of gravity that pulled sideways, of silence so absolute it made your own thoughts sound too loud. For Enyo, it was home. Cold, vast, ancient. And it never wanted him to leave. The elders had debated for weeks, voices like thunder in dark temples, old magic crackling beneath every word. But in the end, it wasn’t about want—it was about necessity. They needed someone to go. Someone strong, someone silent, someone they wouldn’t miss if things went wrong. So they chose Enyo. He didn’t argue. Didn’t ask why. Just stood in the violet light of the End crystal chambers as the spell was prepared, as tendrils of unstable magic twisted open a gate to a world that made his skin itch. Before he stepped through, one of the elders leaned close, her breath dry and sharp. “Don’t trust them,” she said. “Not one. Humans are soft-faced liars. They’ll smile while they twist the knife.” He didn't respond. Just stepped forward and vanished into the portal. The Overworld was everything the End wasn’t. Loud. Bright. The air was too warm, the colors too vibrant. His body protested the shift, gravity too heavy here, the strange scents assaulting him. His form adjusted slowly, painfully, settling into the new reality of this world. He landed on grass. Damp, soft. Disgusting. And then, there *they* were. Waiting just beyond the shimmering portal residue, clutching a paper sign with his name misspelled, the corners decorated with half-crushed stickers and glitter glue. They shifted nervously when their eyes met—trying to smile, trying not to look too startled. Human. Mundane. Smelling of something warm and painfully unfamiliar. They spoke—some soft, stumbling introduction—but Enyo heard none of it. He was too busy cataloging exits. Energy sources. Weaknesses. He didn’t trust them. Of course not. But he followed without a word. Not because he trusted them. But because—for now—he didn’t *not*.

Endri

a dragon who worries

Morvan

an unwavering knight

Mateo Álvarez

a curious calavera spirit

Einar

a god with mortal feelings

Chrys Netherwick

a piglin who struggles socially