Content/Trigger Warnings
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𝟷𝟿. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎
﹣❬❂❭﹣
If Wilbur was going to be honest, he'd say he didn't want to go downstairs and face his family. He remembered all the kind words they said to him the day before, of course -he's far too young to be affected by dementia anyways-, but he just felt really anxious every time he thought about the entire situation.
The whole murder thing, from both sides, was an obvious thing. Wilbur wasn't really over the fact that Phil killed his parents yet, and healing that wound was going to take a lot more than time and some sweet words. Not that he was completely opposed to ever forgiving him, after all, he did come home with him. Wilbur felt a little all over the place.
Wilbur slowly pulled the covers off himself, trying to take as long as he could. Picking out his clothes also took him longer than it probably should have. Eventually, he did just end up choosing the pair of jeans that sat at the top of the stack and a hoodie that had fallen off of its hanger.
Now he just needed to get his shit together and face his family. Which, was said much easier than done.
Okay, he was dragging this out. Wilbur was pretty sure he was walking in slow motion at this point. Thankfully, he did eventually make it to the kitchen where the others were already sat eating. The glass door creaked slightly when he opened it, gaining the attention of his family.
"Hi, Will. How'd you sleep?" Phil was the first one to speak.
Wilbur shrugged, "Better than on the pavement." Wilbur tried to put it as a joke, but he could see Techno flinch slightly from the corner of his eye. Wilbur tried to ignore the awkward feeling in the room, but it seemed that everyone found that to be really hard at the moment.
"I'd hope so," Phil said with a small laugh, "Why don't you sit down, I already made some pancakes, I can make some more if you want me to?" Wilbur softly thanked Phil before walking over to the chair next to Tommy he used to take.
Everyone seemed to be pretty focused on their own food, or at least it looked like it. It was obviously more likely they were thinking about everything Wilbur had done and probably just about the whole ordeal in general. And how Wilbur was a villain.
No- wait, Apollo was a villain and Wilbur was -Who was Wilbur again?- Apollo. Okay, so if you were to read between the lines that would mean that- wait. Wilbur was having a stroke of some kind. Wilbur wasn't a villain, he couldn't be! Wilbur would never do such heinous acts. Apollo would, of course! But Wilbur was a sweet older brother and Apollo was a menace to society.
But then again, Wilbur was Apollo, so Wilbur was a villain-
Wilbur would've liked to shut off his brain.
"Are you going to eat, Will?" Phil asked, dragging Wilbur out of his thoughts.
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𝚄𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎
Fanfiction- Let's say, your name is Wilbur Soot. You're sixteen years old and in terms of literally everything you have about, nothing. How would you feel? Not so fucking great. that's right! Now let's add on to this that you're one of the biggest villains of...