Chapter Text
tubbo knows his dad is scary. he’s got a smell of tobacco and whisky on him, likes to swear, and hoards wayyy too much money for it to be healthy. but other than that, is there really anything impressive about him?
because said scary dad is currently in front of him, passed out and his mouth snoring bubbles in his soup.
the little boy stirs his own soup in boredom, cheek in his hand as he listlessly idles his time away. the maids and butler are there, waiting for both father and son to leave so they can clean the place up. but everyone is just staring and staring and staring and no one actually bothers to talk to him.
i want tommy , tubbo bitterly thinks as he glares at the table. i want to see him.
because even if tommy might never feel the love of his family again and tubbo will never experience affection from his dad, then at least they had each other, right? and there’s also purpled and ranboo and maybe even punz. niki bakes him treats, sam lifts him up on his shoulders, and puffy lovingly ruffles his head. everyone in the watson’s family is so nice and everyone here is just so cold.
“i wanna go to tommy’s,” tubbo says out loud.
“i’m afraid that isn’t allowed, young master.” eret bows behind him. he’s the head butler of the schlatt mansion, as well as the servant that tubbo finds the most tolerable. “master schlatt has ordered us not to let you run out of the house whenever you want to.”
yeah, yeah, so what if he runs out of the house? it’s not like anyone here bothers to entertain him. he thinks back to poor fundy the chariot driver who is currently being punished for letting tubbo out without permission. tubbo thinks he’s kind of stupid for being fooled with a fake note that tubbo claimed was from schlatt, but it also can’t be helped that he’s really good with copying handwriting.
i’ll make sure to give him dog food later , tubbo thinks as form of apology.
tubbo grunts grumpily and shoves his bowl away. there’s no point in eating when all he tastes is bitter. the maids swoop in to clean the table while eret follows tubbo out the dining room. schlatt is left sleeping in his own soup.
tubbo kinda wishes he’s drown, but oh well.
the schlatt mansion has this sort of aesthetic that makes it already intimidating. it’s got dark velvet walls, mahogany floors, and black fleur-de-lis embroidered on every furniture it could fit in. it’s gothic and rich and definitely not tubbo’s style.
the watsons’ have this cream white palette. tubbo prefers cozy brown colors. schlatt’s place is far from comfortable.
also, the lack of lighting— schlatt calls it mood lighting, tubbo calls it fucking unnecessary— forces tubbo to feel around just to make sure he’s going the right way. right now he’s making his way towards the foyer so he can grab one of his chemical tubes and head to the front lawn, but light footsteps appear in front of him and eret quickly steps in front of tubbo.
“why,” that familiar, cocky accent croons in delight as three men emerge from the shadows. he pulls down his mask and grins maliciously at the young master of the schlatt house.
“hello there, little schlatt,” dream greets lightly, crouching down to meet face-to-face with tubbo. “fancy seeing you here.”
tubbo bites his nose.
“what the fuck is wrong with your kid!”
“kill yourself,” tubbo calls from the table. he lazily swishes a chemical concoction in his tube and sets it to boil above a fire. “before i kill you myself.”
schlatt sighs and rubs his temples. honestly, both these Hunters and his kid are so fucking migraine-inducing that he’s impressed his brain hasn’t exploded yet. dream is pressing an ice pack to his bleeding nose (the bleeding isn’t from his nose, but rather on his nose. tubbo chewed off some of his skin.) while sapnap and george are snickering beside him. to the side of the room, tubbo is doing whatever the fuck he does with those potions with a potion lab he had set up months ago in his office. schlatt doesn’t bother fucking with him anymore.
“i will kill you!” dream seethes at the unbothered child. tubbo pointedly stares him down as he mixes two potions and it erupts into a skull-shaped smoke. dream simmers down.
“you’re fucking pathetic,” sapnap yawns and leans back on the chair. “you’re picking fights with a kid and you’re in your fucking 20s.”
“i literally just turned 20!” dream cries. “what are you talking about?!”
“yeah, and tubbo’s, like, three .”
“six,” tubbo speaks up. his potion starts erupting again.
george, the quietest of the bunch, and the one that tubbo likes the most because he has the same accent as him, sighs frustratedly and raps his knuckles against the armrest impatiently. “we’re not here to pick a fight with a kid, dream . we have something we need to talk to schlatt about.”
schlatt stares at them in boredom. “you mean about the mercenary you just lost?” he asks. “yeah, yeah, i already know about that.”
“yeah, we’re talking about punz.” tubbo perks up at the mention of his name but keeps quiet. dream shoots him a curious side glance before continuing. “he’s gone. no message or anything. just up and left without saying shit to us. we need your help tracking him down.”
the nobleman raises a brow at them. “why the hell am i helping you ? as far as i’m concerned, i’m only your benefactor and nothing else. plus, you lot are literally called Hunters. this kinda stuff is your job, not mine.”
“well, we don’t exactly have the kind of connections that you have,” dream snaps. “us three are already out of the question because, y’know, we kill . ant is literally just an informant and nothing else, he can’t socialize for the life of him. and bad and skeppy are too busy kissing each other’s ass to even bother form relationships outside of each other.”
schlatt snorts. “pity. if you had that green guy from years ago, then you’d probably be fine on your own. but fine, i’ll help you, but tell your catboy to go get some info on that technoblade boy.” he pulls out a file from his desk and hands it to dream. “i don’t exactly like doing this to a member of the watson family, but something’s fishy with that blade boy.”
sapnap leans in on the paper and points at the picture. “oh hey, isn’t that the dude that kicked your ass?” dream elbows him hard and tells him to shut the fuck up.
“done deal,” dream smiles and places his mask back on. “we’ll be back next week.” and then, swooping into a bow so mocking that schlatt’s lip curls in distaste, he exits back into the shadows with the other two following suit.
“and you, boy.” schlatt snaps his fingers and tubbo rolls his eyes, but he looks at schlatt anyways. “no telling any of this to your blondie friend.”
tubbo huffs at him and continues working on his potions.
“when did i ever?”