That's My Job - Glatt x gn!reader
~ Ask Link ~
Characters: Glatt x gn!reader, Fundy, mentioning Quackity
Summary: You haven't been back to Manburg since Schlatt died. Now that Techno's destroyed every trace of it, you've returned with Fundy to drink and mourn. Fundy leaves you to your devices and Glatt ends up waking you up, taking care of you, and confessing...
Warnings: lots of cursing, heavy drinking, death, mourning
------ sorry it's so angsty lmao I just love torturing myself :) ------
Ever since Schlatt suffered his massive heart attack at the end of his presidential term, you’ve been wandering the SMP. You’d gotten close to him during his campaign trail, eventually helping him do paperwork, or rather, you did it all for him. You hadn’t been back to Manburg since his death, but now that it was gone, completely gone, you decided it was time to return.
It was a crater. Nothing was left. The office building was gone, the festival grounds were gone, and even the presidential podium was gone. Now, glass covered the crater, giving you the full view of what you had been most afraid of. It made you sick to look at it, bringing up memories from the election.
The worst part of it was that he was gone. Everything in Manburg that reminded you of him was gone, even his friends were gone. The group split shortly after he died, giving up on the decimated country. He was the only thing keeping them together. For better or for worse.
“Hey, Fundy,” You said, stuffing your hands in your pockets. He'd offered to come with you, knowing just how hard it was to be back there.
"Hey, it's nice to see you again," He carried a bottle in his hand and offered it to you. He'd already popped it open and taken a sip of it. "It's a bit strong, but you might need it."
"Thanks," You took it readily, not bothering to read the label before you took a swig. The liquid hit your tongue and burned as it went down. You coughed, spitting the remaining drink on the ground, "What the hell is this stuff?!"
Fundy was practically on the ground laughing. Your tongue and throat still burned from the alcohol and you rotated the bottle to read the label.
Fundy™ Vodka, (98% alcohol)
"Are you trying to kill me Fundy? This shit is ninety-eight percent alcohol?! How did you manage that?" he continued laughing at you as your face burned from embarrassment.
"It's a trade secret," he chuckled, "The people in Las Nevadas really love it," he shrugged.
"How are they all not dead?"
"Don't ask me," He said, "I'm just their dealer. Quackity buys in bulk."
For a moment, it was as if Schlatt never died. You laughed with Fundy for a bit, drank, and reminisced. It was like old times, the hay day, but every time you looked around, you were painfully reminded of the past.
"Hey, I wanted to show you something." Fundy stood, offering you a hand. You were both buzzed already. Each sip of the vodka went down like two shots and you'd gotten a decent way down the bottle by now.
"I'm happy to stay anywhere other than here," You took his hand and gestured around at the crater, "This place sucks." You swallowed a lump in your throat and followed Fundy off the path.
You looked down as you walked. You didn't want to be reminded of him any more than you had to. The people here were moving on from it all already. To be fair, it had been a while, but you'd been closer to him than anyone else, even closer than Quackity.
"Here," He stopped and pointed at the clump stones in front of him. He sat down on the bench as he had done many times before, letting you inspect your surroundings.
"What is this?"
"It's a shrine thing I made," He said sadly, "A long time ago. I haven't been here in a long time, so I refreshed the flowers a bit for you."
The cobblestones were unmarked, put in a rough pile surrounded by oxeye daisies and dandelions. To any passer-by, it was just a pile of rocks. To you and Fundy, it was Schlatt's grave.
Of course, he wasn't buried there. He'd been buried in a nice grave surrounded by gold and diamonds, but it had been griefed so many times that it wasn't worth visiting anymore. Instead of being reminded of him, you were reminded of how many people hated him. Here, it was much quieter.
"Thoughts?" Fundy asked, passing you the bottle as you sat with him.
"It's not bad," You took a swig, used to the taste by now, "I can't help but think that it's painfully accurate that we're getting drunk at his grave."
Fundy laughed briefly, eventually letting the blanket of silence fall over you. The lump in your throat rose once more and you swallowed it with another sip. This must be what he felt like at the end. Drinking to forget, shoving his problems down as far as he could with each drink until, one day, his heart couldn't take it anymore.
"You ok?" Fundy asked, concerned.
"Huh? Yeah," You stared blankly at the stone pile, "Just thinking."
"You're crying," He said.
You touched your cheek and found it wet with tears. You hadn't cried since the day he died, the day you left.
"Do you..." He sighed, "Want some time alone?"
You hesitated. "Yeah," you croaked, "as long as I get to keep the alcohol,"
"Just don't drink it all," He touched your head and walked off.
-
"Hey. Hey. Get up," You felt a finger poke your temple and you jerked awake to Schlatt's voice.
"Finally," He sighed, "What do you think you're doing on my property?"
Through your hazy vision, you saw him.
"Schlatt?" You reached your hand out towards him, but you felt nothing.
"Yeah, yeah," He moved out of your reach, "Hands off, kid."
You rubbed your eyes and squinted, there's no fuckin' way...
"What the hell?" You spat, "Is this a fever dream or some shit?"
In front of you was Schlatt, or a paler blue version of him. He was holding the bottle of vodka, reading the label.
"Oh so Fundy's got a damn business now, does he?"
"Whoa whoa whoa," You ignored him, "Schlatt?! You're alive??"
"Calm down," He rolled his eyes at you, "haven't you ever seen a ghost before?"
He tossed the bottle back to you but you fumbled it and it shattered on the ground.
"Shit!" The bottle broke into sharp, jagged pieces. No vodka came out of the bottle, it was empty.
"You're still a terrible catch, good to know," He sat beside you, walking through the glass. You realised with a start, He's translucent...
You woke up fully, putting your hands on your face and shaking your head. Your brain rattled around in your skull, giving you a painful migraine. The bottle was empty... how much did I drink? Your memory from the past few hours was more or less blank, only the occasional flash of sunset or Fundy was left.
"You're drunk as fuck, you know that?" He said, sitting judgingly.
"What?" I must be if he's here, "Are you even real?"
"Yeah," He sounded offended, "Look at me! What do you mean am I real?"
You laughed, now convinced you were out of your mind. "How was I supposed to know?"
He furrowed his eyebrows at you, evaluating your mental state. "That stuff will kill you." He said, genuinely concerned.
"Oh, and you'd know all about that, Schlatt," You spat, "As if I hadn't warned you a thousand times,"
He leaned back, "Says the person who left the country the moment I died,"
This sent you over the edge and you started sobbing. You put your hands to your face, practically screaming into them. You refused to deal with these emotions for so long, and in some cruel twist of fate, you'd become the thing you hated the most. You'd done the thing you warned Schlatt about countless times. It finally came back to bite you in the ass.
"Sorry, I-" He started, putting his hand on your back. He didn't know what to say, he wasn't the best at comfort, "I've missed you,"
Your sobbing calmed down slightly, downgrading to crying. The tears stung your eyes and your throat burned, partly from the drink, partly from the stress you were releasing.
"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up," He said, standing to lead you down the path. You followed, stumbling slightly as the drink caught up to your balance. Just before you fell, he caught you and slung your arm around his shoulder, practically carrying you.
"Man, I was hoping you'd be in better shape the first time I saw you."
"What do you mean?" You mumbled, leaning on him heavily.
"I mean I haven't seen you in so long," He bit his lip, "I was starting to think you'd never come back. Then I saw you with Fundy, drunk as a skunk, sleeping on my bench. Not what I'd say was a good first impression. In such a long time, I mean."
"Yeah, but you're... dead."
"So? What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means you died. You had a fucking heart attack, alright? We mourned for you, I mourned for you. I ran away because I couldn't bear to look at them. Those people who said they were your friends. They took different sides. They gave up on you. In a way, I guess I did too, just because I had to."
He grits his teeth but kept walking. "I was just as disappointed in them as you, kid."
You'd reached the end of the path. He looked around quickly and opened the door. You recognized it as Fundy's house. It was vacant, Fundy was nowhere in sight. Schlatt laid you down on his bed, leaving to get a washcloth and a glass of water.
"Sit up," He said, pushing the glass into your hand.
You grabbed it readily and took a swig, dehydrated from the tears you'd shed. As you drank, he put the damp washcloth to your forehead and neck, trying his best to sober you up a bit.
"You're on fire." He said, frowning at you. "Your face is all red. How much of that stuff did you drink?"
"The whole bottle," You muttered.
"And you're still alive?" He laughed.
"I'd ask Quackity the same thing,"
"What does this have to do with Quackity?"
"Fundy's selling it to Las Nevadas, I guess." You shrugged and he haphazardly dropped the washcloth in Fundy's cauldron.
"What?"
"Las Nevadas," You laid back down, "Quackity has a city now. Leaned into the whole gambling thing."
"Jesus, I missed a lot, haven't I?" He laid next to you, the sheets didn't move.
"I guess so." You turned to look at him. His suit was torn like he hadn't changed it since the day he died. His beard was barely shaped, his hair a mess, and his horns were as sharp as ever. He was exactly the same as he looked that day. Dishevelled and broken down.
"I mean it, I missed you." He said, "It's not like I had any paperwork to watch you do, but I wish I had."
"You watched me do that?"
"Yeah, I had to make sure you weren't stealing it or something," He excused.
You chuckled, "You never kept track of that shit, there was no way you would have known."
"Alright fine, you want me to admit it?"
"Admit what?"
"You make this... face when you work. When you're really focusing on something... It's hard to look away."
Your heart skipped. The ghost of Schlatt confessed to having a crush on you? No one would believe this, especially since you barely believed it yourself. You burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it.
"What?!" He snapped.
You kept laughing as your head throbbed, the headache coming out in full force now, "You had a crush on me?"
He scowled, "No." He sat up and tapped his foot on the ground, "I have a crush on you."
Huh? "Even though I've been gone for months?"
"Yeah," He said, "It's not like you forget someone like that."
He sounded sad, distant almost. Like you were the ghost.
"Hey," You shuffled over to him, putting a hand on his leg, "It's super cheesy, but," You sighed, god I sound like a child, "I like you, too."
His face flushed, as much as a dead person's face could flush. "Little old dead Schlatt?"
"Yeah, why not?" You sighed, "It's been so long since I've seen you, but... I mean, why do you think I left?"
"I don't know. I thought about that a lot while you were gone."
"I left because I cared about you. It was too hard to see you in everything around me. I left to get my mind off of you because every waking moment of every goddamn day was spent thinking about you," He looked at you, poorly holding his poker face, "I only came back because everything was gone. There was nothing to come back to. Or so I thought."
"Yeah, Technoblade did that." He jeered, "Twice."
"This isn't about him," You put your head on his shoulder, "If I'd have known you were still here... I would have stayed."
"To be fair, I was stuck in... hell... for a while until I finally figured out how to get back up here," He said, "By the time I'd come back... You were long gone. Months had passed."
"It was selfish for me to leave. I'm sorry."
"No, it was shitty of me to be mad you didn't stay. You told me so many times to put down the damn bottle and yet, you stayed by my side until the end. I let you down."
"I guess we both have things to be sorry for, then." You said.
You sat in silence for a while, coming to terms with what you'd both just said. It wasn't in either of your characters to say anything like this. There were some serious feelings passing back and forth between the two of you, and nothing to prepare you for them.
"Fuck I'm gonna puke," You said.
He pulled back, "Don't do it on me, sicko, Jesus!"
You laughed, "I'm fuckin joking, relax,"
"Just..." He leaned back and grabbed a blanket to swaddle you in it, "No more drinking, no more feelings for tonight. You need to sleep, and I've got all the time in the world to watch over you."
"It sounds creepy when you put it that way," you pouted.
"I'm not gonna-" He rolled his eyes and tucked you in, "Just let me know if you need anything. We don't really need sleep with the 'eternal slumber' bullshit, ya know?"
---
I don't know how to end this lmao, I hope you enjoyyyyyyed :3