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You are about to read approximately: 964 words
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"I never understood this shit, anyway," (Y/N) said, after losing yet another game of competitive solitaire against Ghostbur. It was about the tenth round they had played since Ranboo had fallen asleep and his particles had faded away.
"Don't worry, you'll understand it eventually," the ghost said as he collected the cards to lay them out again, "Do you want to play another round?"
(Y/N) drained their only bottle of Vodka of its last droplet of alcohol and answered, "This is going to be the last one, alright?" Ghostbur nodded and laid out the cards for the final time.
As the two started grabbing and moving cards on the floor, (Y/N) couldn't help it and had to remember some of their last moments with Wilbur. They were awful at this game but even worse when Wilbur first introduced it to them. They grabbed another card and put it on the right stack.
"You seem to play this often," they said after a while of silence. "Yes, I do. Not competitive, but I do play a lot of solitaire," Ghostbur told them without removing his concentrated stare from the cards he was moving.
"I can tell," (Y/N) said, "you've gotten pretty good at this since alive you and I played this game."
"You played with Alive-bur?" The ghost asked and averted his glance from the cards. "Once. We played this stupid game exactly one time," (Y/N) said, "and even back then, I was bad at it."
They finally found the ace of hearts and started stacking the cards of the same kind on top of it. "How come I don't remember that? I really like this game, so I should remember us playing it," Ghostbur said as he continued to move some cards on the floor.
"As I explained earlier, Wilbur was sensitive to alcohol and blacked out quickly," they explained, "that's probably why you forgot." "From what I know about Alive-bur, I'm not even surprised anymore," the ghost said, "can you believe that he had a child with a salmon?
It's hard to understand at first, but after a while, you get behind it... What am I saying?" "Yes, I know," (Y/N) attempted to get away from the fishy topic, "Fundy, if I still remember that correctly. The little spy was never too fond of me.
Said I was a bad influence on his father. I still don't get why he cared so much for Wilbur after the way he treated him."
"What do you mean by that?" Ghostbur asked and suddenly stopped moving the cards. "Wilbur was not always the best father. That's what I mean by that," they answered without taking their eyes off the cards, "he was very supportive when Fundy told him he would rather be his son than his daughter,
but that was one of the few moments Wilbur didn't belittle him. I mean, Will gave him a crayon suit. Nobody took Fundy seriously in that thing. This is one of the best examples I can give you... Wow, now I almost feel sorry for him."
An awkward silence fell over the two and only the sound of (Y/N) continuously moving the cards on the floor, as well, as the still strong wind, could be heard. "What's wrong?" (Y/N) asked after some time.
"I... I don't remember the bad things Wilbur did," Ghostbur said and looked out of the treehouse, "I already told you that. But I remember a lot about Fundy, and the things we did together and what you've just told me makes it sound like I didn't even notice that I was being a bad father."
Hot, denim blue tears now started to roll down the ghost's cheeks and slightly burnt the pale skin underneath them.
"(Y/N), did I mess up that badly at being a father?" He then asked. (Y/N) had to think about their answer carefully, and it, for once in their life, was difficult for them to be straightforward about something - which was probably due to the way too child-like and innocent appearance and way of speaking of their former best friend.
Not taking their eyes off the white and blue cards, they thought for a while. Then they sighed. "Not always," they answered, "Wilbur did his best but was quite oblivious sometimes.
He didn't see that Fundy wasn't just a child, but a man, a grown man, and Will didn't always treat him like one. He also didn't see all of the efforts Fundy went through to prove himself to his father...
On the other hand, Will was supportive as fuck most of the time and tried to be there for Fundy as much as possible, especially since his mother was... Well, deceased. So we can say that Will tried, but it simply wasn't always enough."
They now put down the last card on the right stack. "Get over here, Ghosty," they said with a sigh after taking their eyes off the cards. The ghost sniffled and wiped away the tears before cuddling up next to (Y/N).
"You had no control over his actions, so stop acting like it was your fault, alright?" (Y/N) said.
It was a piece of advice they really could have used in their past. They started to stroke the ghost's hair until both of them eventually fell asleep. It felt weird to hold the ghost of their best friend in their arms.
Not only weird but wrong. (Y/N) knew that Wilbur was dead and that this ghost wasn't the best friend and brotherly figure they once had. But at least the closure and the look of a familiar face were truly appreciated by the former prisoner. This was their second night as a free person,
and this place outside of their cell already felt much more like home.
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964 words
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ To be continued ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
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Pandora's Vault / Box / Jar (A Dream SMP and Reader Fan-Fiction)
Fanfiction(A/N: This is a story with reader input in the form of the character (Y/N), who will be given the pronouns they/them so nobody feels left out, the dream SMP is real (not just a Minecraft server) and this story involves: Greek mythology, violence, ro...
