[w.s] oneshots (schlattbur)

insert poetic title here

lava rising vod after the end, requested by me myself and I

they say you either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain, and schlatt was surprisingly okay with it.

sure, the situation wasn't ideal, but he had won, right? he survived. yay! cut, over and out, fin.

except not, because now schlatt's running out of food. he should have considered a farm or something. rationing whatever he had left would last him for a couple months if he did his math right and was lucky, but he had to plan for after that.

"you made a mistake."

oh right, that motherfucker. his own brain tricking him into believing he was haunted by wilbur fucking soot of all people.

"wilbur. for the love of whatever god is or is not out there somewhere, shut the hell up."

he buried his head in his hands, leaning against the ladders that saved his life and ruined it.

"schlatt, you did this to me. why."

"i don't answer stupid questions from stupid pricks."

"do fuck off."

"i would, if you'd let me."

he heard him sigh, and fuck, he's starting to think of the figment of his imagination as a real person. is he going insane?

"look what all of that 'coming out on top' got you."

"wilbur, i didn't know i asked."

"you're gonna die here."

"i'm obviously very much alive."

maybe if he placed this water bucket a certain way it wouldn't turn to obsidian, and he could make a farm. he had some seeds, and dirt, it could happen, but he was sure it wouldn't work. there had to be a way tough, right?

he really wanted to sit down. why did he make this place so small? he was grateful to be alive and all, but being able to rest his feet without accidentally melting them off would be nice.

"do you regret it at all?"

exasperation. "wilbur."

"answer me schlatt. do you regret pushing me off? ending it all?"

how was he supposed to answer that question. did he need to? wilbur knew what answer he'd give anyways (did he? was it even wilbur?). 

a minuscule droplet of magma fell on his scalp, and he cursed. wilbur laughed. 

"yeah. it fucking hurts to be burnt by lava, doesn't it?"

"wil, i'm just trying to survive. please, leave me the hell alone."

"yeah, you survived alright."

he reached out, pounding his fist into the stone wall.

"goddamnit wil, you just don't know when to quit, do you, you piece of shit?"

"that's funny, coming from you! i was trying to come over there to help you!"

"bullshit!"

"you'd think after spewing nothing but it for so long you'd know what lies sounded like. no, schlatt, we could have both lived. but you had to fuck shit up like always (and oh, what an understatement)!"

"ah, wilbur with the moral high ground, as always! as if you weren't playing your part!"

"and what exactly did i do?"

and schlatt couldn't come up with anything that wasn't something minuscule and petty. 

"yeah. thought so. i cared about you, you know that? i just wanted to make sure you survived with me. i didn't want to be the last one alive, because that would be hell. i guess i was right. it is hell alone, isn't it? right now, i'm really hoping it is."

"you know what? sure. this really sucks. i'll admit that. at least i'm not stuck in here with you!" he gestured randomly at the air, before settling down and hanging his head.

"really mature, schlatt."

"as if this whole fight wasn't because of some petty grudge."

hysterical, satirical laughter as schlatt glared at a wall.

"a petty grudge? a fucking petty grudge? that's really funny. that's a real knee-slapper right there, isn't it?"

and silence was heavy, and schlatt's feet were really starting to hurt from standing too long, and his head hurt from arguing and from dripping lava, and he really just wanted this to be over.

"hypothetically, let's say i cared about you too. maybe i fucked up real bad and freaked out because my world was falling apart and was literally on fire. what would you say?"

he couldn't even see the man (he hopes he's real, at least), and he hated that he knew the face he was making as he thought up a response. he really hated that he wished he could see it.

"i'd say i'd be willing to forgive him. hypothetically. "

they say you either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain, and schlatt really hated himself for it.

was this terrible? yes. was there little to no editing or planning? yeah. was this started and finished at 1 am Friday morning? yep. do I hope you enjoyed it? you bet.