Chapter Text
Thick grey smoke entered his body as he gasped for air clutching his blood-stained undershirt in pain, salty tears in his tired lifeless eyes spilling out, as he looked at Technoblade above him. Once again, he was betrayed. TNT exploded all around them; his mouth was moving grandly, showing off his power the smile of pride being extremely visible, Tubbo assumed he was speaking, maybe even yelling, and yet the young president didn’t catch a single word that was proclaimed. Instead, he tried to focus on his surroundings, you couldn’t even see the buildings he worked his ass off rebuilding instead craters upon craters were left. Obsidian blocks that didn’t belong in the sky were there with Philza adding more to the deadly Redstone contraption which made it faster more indestructible. Getting up from the ground making sure he wouldn’t topple over immediately; he removes his hands from his chest opening his eyes wider watching the further destruction of what was once he called his home. Gone, burnt, exploded. Love that once surrounded L’manburg was leaving along with the rising black ash. It’s people crying as they watched destruction occur this was no longer a home, no longer a haven, but Tubbo remained determined refusing to let his country go up in flames; of course, he wanted no more than to be a decent president in its last moments. It was the end, they lost, it wasn’t expected that the end would last for days, however. Tubbo had to sleep on wet mud in his president sit and broken-down armour as bombs were still being set off his heart shattering more and more with each explosion sound that was heard. Yet Tommy was still there offering Tubbo support as they both witnessed the fall of L’manburg holding on to each other. Tubbo has feared so many times that his best friend his brother decided to end his final life but here he was with Tubbo hand in hand. Their bodies were pushed up against each other desperately trying to prevent any more miserable wails to escape their mouths. Two boys both young and new to the world forced to give up and cry along with the ruins of the place they founded. Destroyed for the utmost final time.
Tubbo woke up in a cold sweat with a loud gasp his hand clutching his white shirt sadly it was normal for him to have these kinds of nightmares; looking over at Ranboo he worried that he could’ve awoken him. To his relief, the enderman hybrid was still fast asleep. Tubbo rubbed his eyes pulling on them in frustration feeling undying guilt blaming himself once again; he blames himself for everything frankly, whether that’s his execution, Tommy’s exile, the 3rd destruction of L’manburg all of it. He believed it was his fault. It was often said to be his fault. Taking deep breaths running his fingers through his dark brown fluffy hair, slightly damp from sweat, the goat-hybrid looked over at his sleeping husband, which always seemed to calm him, as a gentle snore escaped their lips making the shorter man giggle to himself wondering how lucky he is to have them in his life. But once again, he dug his fear and terrors deep inside of him to never be seen again he didn’t trust anyone with his emotions. Not even himself. Pushing his feelings aside was easy he’s always refused to show any vulnerability whatsoever especially after Schlatt mentioned to him he wasn’t paid to cry or feel in addition to being made fun of if he cried. Holding his scarred face high he muttered to himself that he’s fine and happy. He’s happy?
He huffed quietly giving up on the idea of sleeping; he made his way out of bed making sure the taller man didn’t wake up. Ranboo stirred a little but in the end, went back to sleep. Tiptoeing into the hallway of the candle-lit mansion, finally, they moved into it together, he stopped like a dear in headlights noticing the huge antique mirror staring right at him. He glared at his reflection and examined his face placing his shaky fingers, gently in fear of making it hurt, on his firework scar. Tracing his hand across the dry tissue that was once perfect skin made him sick, Tubbo didn’t like how Wilbur’s and Techno’s betrayal was so cruelly displayed on his face as a never-ending scar. A constant reminder that a part of him died. Tearing his eyes away from his reflection, making a mental note to cover the mirror up later, he kept walking deciding to make his way up to the bee dorm Foolish built them in need of a distraction from his frustration.
As he walked memories flooded his head, the days where he was happily playing the ukulele as Tommy sang to the flourishing plants to encourage them to grow. Remembering how Wilbur would sing them to sleep in the drug camravan which was so safe it was the greatest idea they believed to ever have had. Who would’ve thought it would lead to war and hatred? Happier memories flashed before his eyes remembering his times at Niki’s bakery helping her with ingredients or when he would fight the dreamons with Fundy. He and Eret farming during the first days in their new country. Unfortunately, that was all over all those people he once called his family lost. The spark that once was innocence and hope was replaced by hate, anger, and resentment. Well, he can’t necessarily blame them after everything that’s happened it’s no surprise. Everyone is so lonely now Tubbo thought and shook his head in concentration. Jack left Snowchester for the hotel, Foolish left as well, Puffy never really lived here and Ranboo didn’t move in until recently he’s practically been living in his commune alone with his son whose other father would only visit. Running his fingers in his long, now dry, hair again he further made his way to the Bee dome sleep deprived and in a stupidly vulnerable state. He felt better thinking about how his house smelled of pine and piglin baby formula, it felt refreshing and warm to be at home. Foolish made this place beautiful wood carved with the utmost perfection each corner had detail put into the pattern of apples, flowers, leaves and even more he made this place look so rich yet home-like. No wonder Ranboo had to pay lots, the floor was placed with precision each floorboard matched the pattern of the other and only the quiet footsteps of Tubbo could be heard. Even the chandelier, which drove Foolish mad according to his husband, looked magical it emitted small firefly like particles due to the glowstone used. Their mansion was magical it was where he raised a family, he admired it with all his heart or what remained of it. His heart ached with happiness knowing he managed to get himself a wonderful and loving husband and son, he wouldn’t ask for another.
After a bit of walking, Tubbo made it to the run-down ladder that led to the Bee dome, he looked around oddly paranoid that someone was following him. (Force of habit). As he reached out his somewhat asleep hands to make his way up the ladder the smell of flowers and wildlife immediately hit him. God, he loved it so much. Lifting the spruce hatch the bee’s greeted him with great joy; bugs always seemed to love the goat-hybrid he didn’t mind it made him feel special and different. Flowers surrounded almost the entire area making the room smell floral giving him the feeling of owning a small, enchanted forest in his mansion. The glass was stained white to make the greenhouse effect stronger as they live in a cold pale snow biome. Tubbo adored coming up here, but he wasn’t in the mood to be celebratory. He was in a state of acrodynia. Thinking of how people are so cruel for no reason other than power filled him with fatigue and numbness. Others violent pasts always made him miserable no matter how many times Tubbo has heard them. Tommy’s: I was killed by my abuser when looking for closure to heal from my trauma ending up with more. Oh, and I was in limbo with my brother figure who I never want to see again then I was revived which hurt a lot. Fundy: My dad never treated me seriously and basically disowned me and then the guy that was supposed to adopt me forgot to come to the adoption. Now I am scarred with nightmares and other sleeping problems. His quote-on-quote trauma is nothing compared to all that he was just killed twice therefore he’s being overdramatic. He shook his head and stopped thinking about it looking around the dome to distract himself from self-deprecating thoughts.
A glimmer caught his eye as he noticed an old ukulele was laying in the rose bushes he planted. “Well, no one is going to hear me from up here so I might as well” he mumbled to himself looking more intently at the old instrument. Once he retrieved it, he had to tune it because it sounded God-awful. A short melody was played. All the critters and bugs even a few arachnids froze then later gathered around the 17-year-old to listen. It like was a classical princess film where the miserable girl would sing her heart out and find her happily ever after in mere seconds, but that wasn’t the case for Tubbo_Beloved. He was no princess, he doubts he’ll have a happily ever after, he doesn’t cry in self-pity. So, he played a familiar melody as the sun rose the entire room beaming with warmth and sunlight. With the room illuminated Tubbo felt much more comfortable to start singing. His bees and butterflies danced to the sound of his heart. His eyes closed in focus. Tubbo laughed listening to the insects dumb singing along feeling like a true Disney princess it gave him a distraction no longer did he have to think.
Sure enough, his voice started to give out after about an hour of playing allowing him to be non-verbal for most of the day. Ranboo never minded it they understood that there’s days where speaking is too difficult not to mention he enjoyed comfortable silence with an occasional laugh here and there. Tubbo disliked his voice anyways’ it was squeaky and cracked constantly causing him to be babied and not taken seriously. All his life he’s been a scapegoat which is ironic since he developed goat-like features after being under Schlatt’s administration. The more he was compared to the now-dead president his horns would sprout making them look taller and bigger. It filled him toe-top full of self-resentment; he’s tried to pull them out of his small head leading to many painful migraines as well as late-night panic attacks. Now he has even more reason to dislike his image. Maybe Tubbo wasn’t happy. Definitely not happy with himself. Tubbo flung his head back in exhaustion hitting the window harshly. Eye’s heavy with lack of sleep. He shut them already feeling a new migraine popping into his head to say hi. An intense wave of nausea hit him as he groaned in discomfort. Oh, the things he would do to be a normal teenager who does stupid shit for fun with his friends and not having the fear of being brutally executed for said stupid shit. He’s a fucking child and yet he lives in constant fear of death due to abuse from the adults of this forsaken server. Adults he’s supposed to bloody trust use him as a pawn and play with his entire life. For fucks sake it was unfair on him, it was unfair for everyone.
Eventually, his lack of rest caught up to him quickly as a quiet yawn echoed in the bee dome followed by a cough. Tubbo assumed it was from singing to his heart’s content. His body soon relaxed to accommodate his tired state curling up on the soft green grass. Spins, the bee he named, sat in his soft hair buzzing lowly to lull Tubbo to calm and comfortable slumber. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep especially with a treacherous migraine. And so there lay a 17-year-old boy, angry at the world, angry with himself, asleep surrounded by never-ending love and affection, free from the pain that came from reminiscing on his past in addition to dwelling on his mistakes. He was at peace. Tubbo felt at home