Tainted Perception | Wilbur Soot Angst (ORIGINAL)

Crossed

TW: Swearing, talks about death

A/N: Don't mind me setting up plot...

 Ghostbur felt like life, or rather, death, was speeding by. Events unfolding and resolving before he could take a breath. Nations formed, grudges solidified, wars fought. What was the point of it all? Why couldn't everyone be happy? Frowning, the ghost turned some blue over in his hands, the substance letting out a dim glow as it skittered over his monochrome skin, it's presence strong and comforting.

"-ostbur, I died." The man snapped back to the present, his gaze quickly finding Tommy once again.

"What?"

"I died," the boy repeated, his expression unreadable. "I went to prison, and I died." Ghostbur tilted his head, looking over Tommy's figure in confusion.

"You're very- you're very saturated for being dead. How did you die?"

"Well, no, Will. I didn't- I-" the blond took a breath, looking around uncomfortably. "Dream- Dream killed me in the prison, and I died." He paused. "But, he- he revived me."

"There's a prison?" Tommy stomped his foot in frustration, making Ghostbur wince. He didn't mean to make the boy mad.

"Yeah, we can see it in a bit. But, when I died, I spoke to you, Wilbur. For months, and months, and months."

"What?" the ghost repeated, his brain frantically trying to figure out what he had missed. "I- I- I- last time I spoke to you was like a few days ago?"

"No. No, I spoke to you. Not, Ghostbur. I spoke to you."

"But, I am Ghostbur?"

"I spoke to Wilbur." The man made a face, ignoring the pang in his chest when he realized that Tommy still related him to Alivebur.

"You don't want to talk to him."

"I- I know. I never want to talk to him again."

"He's not very nice," Ghostbur agreed, "He's not a nice guy." Tommy's brow wrinkled, his head tilting in consideration.

"Actu- Ghostbur, I have a question for you. Do you, um, do you want him to come back? Because, I- I don't. I don't think I do..." the boy trailed off, sighing in resignation. "Ever."

-

Wilbur woke up with a jolt, tears pricking at his eyes as he took a shaky breath. The blanket clutched in his fingers acting like a lifeline as he struggled to calm his racing heart. What is wrong with me? Shivering, the man stood, wringing out his hands as he paced across the floor, his nerves still tingling as he tried in vain to ignore all of the things bombarding his senses. Why can't I remember?

Sighing, the man collapsed back onto the bed with a thud, his head resting in his hands. There was nothing he could do but wait it out, and hope that the feeling would subside.

-

"Tubbbbboooooo?" Tommy greeted, smiling as his friend's icon stopped blinking and the join call noise rang through his headphones.

"What's up, man?" the brunet asked, sounding tired, but not unhappy.

"The sky."

"Such an original joke," Tubbo joked, rolling his eyes.

"Yep. They call me- they call me the original joke king."

"That's quite the title. Who gave it to you?"

"Well, I did, Tubbo," the blond stated, mocking offence.

"Mhm."

"Don't 'mhm' me."

"Too late," the shorter pointed out, raising his eyebrows at the screen. "You've already been 'mhmed"

"See, now you've just gone and done it again! I- I don't feel respected in this call, Tubbo."

"Maybe, 'cause you aren't"

"Now, that's just factually incorrect. Everyone respects me. I'm- I'm the most respected man in the world."

Tubbo laughed, "Mhm."

"Fuck you."

"Mhm."

"Man, you're just overusing this joke now. It's not funny anymore."

"Mhm."

The blond sighed, trying to hide the fond smile that was now resting on his face, "You suck."

"Mhm. Sure, Tommy." 

Yay, an update! Have a wonderful day/night!