mcyt oneshots

structure

cw/tw:
angst, cussing, death

a/n:
"i've got words on my mind that i'm too scared to speak."

"and a burden that's grown these last couple of weeks"
"

but i'm too scared to tell you what's been on my mind,
cause it's you that's been crossing it, from time to time."

(dsmp)

---

wilbur layed there, lifeless.

everything flashed before him, mentally and physically. lights went off in his brain and in the blurred sights in front of him.

"fuck! get back!" he faintly heard, he couldn't hear that well. everything was fading out. everything was fading before him. his vision was blurry and his ears rang louder than the bombs going off around him.

he couldn't talk, he didn't need to talk. why would he need to talk? who would ever hear him?

his chest was heavy, his eyes were burning from the smoke and ash that surrounded him. he could barely see, or hear, or even sense what was going on. all he knew was he wasn't going to live any longer.

all that pain is gone. all the things he's worked for are gone. all that suffering and stress for nothing, maybe it doesn't always get better.

he saw some sort of figure, running, towards him? "no! no no no!" they shouted, wilbur couldn't hear it that well. his eyes shut, he wanted to sleep. he wanted to rest, he wanted a break from this. he wanted to be free from all of this stress.

"fuck! no! stay with me man!" someone yelled. maybe quackity, he wasn't sure. the man started sobbing as he rummaged his fingers over the sword in wilbur's chest.

"please. please wilbur..stay with me please.."

quackity?

"don't leave me please, not like everyone else."

he felt his body get pulled upwards, into a hug it seemed. they had no struggle lifting him up. he was getting lighter by the second. "please..." they muttered. quackity took off his shirt and put it on the blood leaking out of wilbur's chest.

wilbur silently lifted up his hand, it was a struggle but he would no longer feel pain after all of this, who cares if he feels pain before he goes. he put his hand on quackity's face. "i love you man.." the figure sobbed.

he knew he wouldn't survive long from the beginning, he was a coward, at least that's what everyone around him says. even if he isn't, it doesn't matter anymore. it doesn't matter anymore. no one will remember him, when this country goes to ashes and everyone is dead, no memory of him will be left. it doesn't matter anymore.

a tear rolled down wilbur's face as his hand fell lifeless to the ground.

he couldn't feel anything. no emotion could be felt, he wasn't in pain, he wasn't hurt, he wasn't there anymore.

he wasn't there anymore?

...

maybe it doesn't always get better.