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The rough cobblestone of the Watchtower’s railings started to irritate Tubbo’s hands. Orange sunlight shone through the open area between the thin and hastily built walls as he stared at the hulking obsidian structure. Ranboo and Tommy had already parted ways, with Tommy going presumably back to his small hut, and Ranboo back to Snowchester to wait.
The sunset made the massive prison look almost cinematic, something right out of a polaroid picture. Tubbo was sure that if he were to stand on the roof, no camera would be able to capture him standing there. Not even in plain sight.
His hands ran along the railings as he stared at nothing in particular. The events of earlier that day had..startled him, to say the very least. He didn’t get startled much anymore, he didn’t possess the energy to be, but Tommy’s almost erratic behavior caused the familiar feeling to resurface. Surely reliving your worst traumas wasn’t the best coping mechanism, right?
He rambled on to him and Ranboo, about unfinished business and running out of time. Ranting specifically to Tubbo about his husband and “picture perfect” family. Tubbo was almost thrilled that his best friend didn’t actually hate Ranboo, but Tubbo wasn’t surprised that feeling of jealousy still lingered.
Perfect was an...odd way to describe his situation. Tommy hadn’t really said that, not to his face at least, but Tubbo couldn’t help but feel like that’s what he implied. And the implications..
He could only dream it was as picturesque as Tommy thought.
Tubbo couldn’t forget the times where for days on end, Ranboo had forgotten about him and spent his time in his mines or with Technoblade and Phil. Moments where he felt Michael was in danger around his own damn parents. The times where, for only a second, Tubbo could feel his own walls crumbling. Walls he re-enforced time and time again, mishap after mistake after fuck up. The walls that he made after being so abandoned.
At this point, he was sure those walls were riddled with cracks.
But he’d be goddamned if he let that make him defenseless.
He wasn’t even sure if he had s right to feel that way at all. His best friend had been betrayed, exiled, murdered, almost everything Tubbo could think of had happened to him. And here he was, with a family of his own, living in a town he built from he ground up. What could he say that hadn’t already happened to Tommy?
He supposed talking about himself in that way wasn’t the most productive. But what could he do?
The sound of arrows whizzing by his head snapped him out of his thoughts. Quickly descending the latter, Tubbo realized it was dangerously close to nighttime, with mobs already being scattered throughout the area. Tubbo ran toward the speed tunnel back to Snowchester, where he assumed Ranboo would be waiting still. His trident launched him through the nearly freezing water in a matter of seconds, only dampening his armor by a short margin.
Snowchester itself looked beautiful at night. Warm light made the haphazardly constructed buildings look lifelike. Stars and the docks and the everything made it look so..vivid, like something right out of a…
Tubbo didn’t finish that thought.
He hastily made his way to the mansion, figuring Michael had already been put to bed upstairs. Foolish was nowhere to be seen, having been sternly told to rest after the banquet.
Entering the unfinished manor, Tubbo scouted for signs of his husband. Nowhere in the main room or the trade hall, and none of the other rooms seemed to have signs of his presence. His patience and capability of rational thought was already severely depleted from earlier that day, so having Ranboo nowhere to be seen helped exactly none.
Tubbo sat on the front steps of the mansion, pulling out his communicator and clicking on Ranboo’s contact.
You whispered to Ranboo: were are you?
You whispered to Ranboo: i dont see you anywhere near Snowchetser
He tapped on the side of the small device before it went off with a small ping.
Ranboo whispered to You: ⊑⏃⎅ ⏁⍜ ☌⍜ ⟒⏃⍀⌰⊬. ⟟’⋔ ⌇⍜⍀⍀⊬.
You whispered to Ranboo: oh for fucks sake can we not do this right now.
Of course. Of course he’d be doing this right now. Of course the universe would test his fucking patience once again.
You whispered to Ranboo: why do you always do this shit at the most inconvenent time
The universe was testing his resilience, wasn’t it?
You whispered to Ranboo: i just want one night of peace after todays fucking fiasco and you pull this on me?
You whispered to Ranboo: fucks sake
Asking him if his walls were high enough.
You whispered to Ranboo: i can only handle so much.
Asking if he was defenseless.
Ranboo whispered to You: ⌿⌰⟒⏃⌇⟒ ⎅⍜⋏’⏁ ☌⟒⏁ ⋔⏃⎅
If he was secure.
You whispered to Ranboo: not now
If he was worth the time.
You whispered to Ranboo: just get the fuck out of here i’ll talk in the morning
The universe was a fucking moron. He was worth all the time in the goddamn world as far as his husband was concerned. As far as Tommy was concerned. He was more than worth it.
Wasn’t he?
Tubbo tossed the device out of his now shaking hands into the snow.
His hands clasped together as he lowered his head. The blistering cold was more bearable than the uncomfortable heat inside the mansion. Tubbo reached to scratch at his burn scars, mentally slapping his hand away moments later.
Fuck, why did he go off on Ranboo like that? He knew more than anybody that this state was out of his control.
But he couldn’t help but feel more..alone. Tommy said he had thicker skin, but that “thicker skin” was only because of him pushing down everything until it eventually boils over. It always boils over, and now Ranboo was going to be scared of him or be pissed off or something.
Tubbo shakily stood from the wooden steps, making his way to the abandoned communicator. Pocketing the device, he made his way back into the smaller home to finally lay down. Maybe he’d feel better in the morning.
A noise was heard from upstairs as he closed the front door. Climbing up the ladder, Tubbo realized that Michael had not, in fact, fallen asleep. The piglin child relaxed easily seeing his father, soon drifting off after a few minutes. Tubbo sat beside the elevated bed, keeping an eye on Michael intently. His thoughts almost immediately wandered back to earlier that day.
Tommy was jealous. Of them.
He loved Ranboo, he truly did. But at times when his patience was limited..he almost breaks.
He almost breaks. His walls get repaired. Life goes on again.
Tubbo thinks what he would look like to someone else right now. A parent watching over his child with contentment, in the city he built with his own hands.
He wonders if the scene would make a nice picture.