shout at the wall... <3 </3 :D :)

                                    

                                          
art by @darpersanon on Twitter <3
tw // minor blood mention?
a/n: FATHERBLADE WOOOO - techno isn't part of the family tree in this one, he's just Y/N's dad and an uncle-figure to Wilbur and Tommy :']
alivebur/revivebur, fluff/angst, platonic   romantic [up for interpretation]
they/them
Y/N pov
The trains come and go. I've been here since... well ever since I died.
2538 at the moment. every 48 minutes in their world, is 24 hours in mine.
That used to be my world, my world...
I had carved every day I've been alone into a wall.
Nobody got on or off the train. I tried to leave this place. I tried to get on the train, I never did. I never could, it was... impossible.
I tried to claw at the concrete walls, nothing worked. I was stuck here.
My fingers bled.


I don't even know what killed me, I don't even know how I died. It was just a boom, then black.
I celebrated my birthdays in sorrow. 10 birthdays, I'm now 21.
This afterlife was hell. A white strand of hair eventually grew.
Gods, I would shout at the wall as if it were the cause of my death, the cause of my misery. They showed no emotion, no guilt, yet no comfort either. The walls just stared, that's all they did.


I was awoken by the train arriving.
No one was getting off, or on, so there was no point in looking.
I remained still on the shivering concrete floor.
I hear soft steps behind me as I face the wall.


"H-Hello..." a timid British voice spoke, "Do you know... where I am?"
"Uh-Um..." I muttered, backing up against the concrete wall. I examined the man's face, he seemed about my age, his eyes only staring. Reminded me of these stupid walls.
"O-Oh sorry, Wilbur, Wilbur Soot." he extends an arm to shake, I do the same.
"Y/N..." I speak again as he pulls me up from the floor, "Yeah... Y/N."
"So, where am I, Y/N?" he scratches the back of his neck and chuckles.
"Afterlife..." I answer hesitantly, I haven't talked to a person in years.
"You're dead too?" he asks, I nod. I wasn't that prone to speaking, I was just used the voices in my head, "You don't talk much, do you..?"
"No." I walked over to the wall of the number of days I've been here, time to add the 2539th.


"Is that how many hours you've been here?"
"Days."
"What?"
"2539."
"B-By yourself? Alone?"
"Yes."
"A-Are you okay?" Wilbur cautiously approaches me as I still have my back turned. I shake my head.
He pulls me into a hug, I sob into his chest, tears seeping into his leather jacket, I'm glad there's someone here, I'm glad I have someone with me.
"Thank you..."