Chapter Text
For the record, Tubbo did a lot of things before jumping to the most radical conclusion possible.
He begged for the pain to stop long before he demanded it stop.
He tried everything, he tried all the little things before going to the extreme.
First little thing he tried; he tried to befriend the man who would become his abuser.
Tubbo had heard of Schlatt long before Wilbur and Tommy introduced him formally.
And right from the get go, Tubbo did not trust the man.
Tubbo didn’t know what exactly he didn’t like.
Was it the fact that he ran around with a lack of filter that rivaled his good friend Tommy’s? Was it how he would scream at every passerby? How he made fun of their revolutionary uniforms? Or perhaps it was how he clung almost exclusively to Wilbur and Tommy, having little tolerance for anyone else? Or how he always managed to smell like alcohol?
Every last minute managed to push Tubbo closer to leaving.
One particular incident struck Tubbo personally.
Schlatt and Tommy were off building some bucket looking closet that didn’t amount to much. It was a shallow hole filled with water. It was about as tall as Tubbo’s golden haired friend and it was framed by mediocre cobblestone. Schlatt had cleverly slapped a small sign on the side that read “cuck shed”. Tommy encouraged the man, chanting that he was so funny, that he was so clever. He just went on and on, much to everyone’s dismay.
They laughed obnoxiously, making the same stale jokes over and over again.
Tubbo didn’t like Schlatt, but he didn’t say anything. He was never one to impede on a good time. Even if he wasn’t at the receiving end of it.
The two went back and forth, joking about who they’d throw into the pit.
Tubbo didn’t do much other than fiddle with his thumbs. He didn’t really have an interest in the conversation.
He couldn’t help but think. Really? This was the guy who was supposed to help them with the running for the presidency.
Tubbo let a bored sigh escape his lips.
He didn’t know where anyone else went.
Wilbur went off to find Niki and Fundy was probably talking with Quackity, their political rival… treacherous bastard.
Sure, he could always just go off on his own, but he just… didn’t feel like it.
He could always join in.
So join in he did.
Without alerting the others, he jumped over the back and onto the small cobbled platform above.
Immediately, the mood shifted. Tubbo could feel it in his stomach. It was like the gears of life were changed without warning. Had he done something wrong? Why was no one laughing anymore?
The newcomer’s expression dropped.
“Heh? What?” Schlatt stammered out through a drunken haze.
“What?! I’ve been here this whole time!” Tubbo retorted.
“Oh… hey… Mister...” Schlatt paused, snapping his fingers as if that would make him remember quicker.
Tommy doubled over into laughter while Tubbo argued with Schlatt, and Schlatt forgot his name.
“We met like 45 minutes ago! I’ve been here— this entire goddamn time!”
“Yeah yeah— okay sorry I forgot a two second ‘Hi, my name is…’” Schlatt paused before coming up with his best guess, “Tubble! It was Tubble!”
Tubbo paused.
“You know what— my name is now ‘put down the whiskey, old man’.”
Tommy approached the top of the shed before speaking, voice cracking through laughter.
“I’m sorry we didn’t notice you, maybe try coming out of your cave every once and a while!”
Tubbo stifled a laugh.
“First of all— eat a dick! SECOND OF ALL—!”
Tommy’s joyous laughter echoed throughout the empty field, while Tubbo continued to jokingly berate his friend.
“HEY! It’s not my fault you live off the grid!”
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!”
“You chose that lifestyle for yourself, my friend! I’m sorry it’s just not right!”
That’s when Schlatt came back. He made it clear he wanted nothing to do with Tubbo.
He talked over him. No matter how on topic he tried to be.
Tubbo didn’t even remember what he tried to talk about. He only grew to remember the first red flags from Jschlatt. Whenever Tubbo thought he was contributing, but even as he contributed, he never felt loud enough.
“Who are you talking to?” Schlatt asked Tubbo coldly.
It was a blunt and unwavering question.
It was quiet, yet harsh. It caused humiliation and discomfort to well up in the back of his mouth, leaving a foul taste behind. Embarrassment crawled up his back. What was he doing? Tommy could have friends other than him.
God he was an idiot. A certified clingy dumbass.
He shouldn’t be here. It was a conversation between two friends that he was invading.
“Umm… I… well shit.”
“Well?”
Tubbo curled into himself and sighed.
Thoroughly humiliated and without anything else to do, he got off of the shed. He let Tommy and Schlatt continue talking. He left for some nearby trees to mess with his communicator so he wouldn’t look so lonely.
Tubbo didn’t know this would be the first time out of many he would try and fail to please the drunken man.
-:-:-:-
The next thing he tried; making escape tunnels and then running after his friends when they were exiled on Election Day.
The Election Day, arguably one of the worst days of Tubbo’s life.
The day the world truly met the man who would make his life a living hell.
“THAT MEANS TONIGHT! THE 21ST OF SEPTEMBER, SCHLATT2020 HAS BEEN INAUGURATED!”
The crowd had no clear reaction. Not yet anyways. The only consistent reaction was shock. Yelling, gasping, cheering, a madman’s triumphant laugh, they all blended together in a cacophony of noise that piqued Tubbo’s senses.
Tubbo’s friends— Tommy and Wilbur— they should’ve won! They held the popular vote! But due to some legal loophole… this hardly sober jackass took the crown.
As his friends, the rightful leaders, were forced to join him in the crowd, Tubbo knew he wouldn’t like the new president.
He didn’t know then just how much he wouldn’t like him.
“So that was pretty easy…”
Asshole.
Tubbo thought. He thought long and hard. Screaming profanities in his head… but he bit his tongue. Schlatt hadn’t done anything wrong… yet. Well, he hadn’t done anything wrong but hijack an election, get endorsed by the old Greater SMP regime, not pick a running mate, and then usurp the political power of another party.
He could tell that he would be knee deep in dissent later, cursing the new president for what he would do. He knew he would even before knowing his nature. He knew he’d spend a lot of this administration yelling at the president.
Tubbo just didn’t know he’d be yelling to prevent a beating, instead of yelling to prevent a policy.
If everything went well, the now former Secretary of State would’ve hardly paid attention to the rest of the inauguration, and have complained about the results with his good friend on their beloved bench.
But it didn’t go well. It went anything but well.
Tubbo bitterly spaced out. He only focused on welcoming his friends as they were harshly ordered into the crowd of onlookers.
But the new president’s screaming snapped him back to reality.
“My first decree… as president! THE EMPEROR— OF THIS GREAT COUNTRY!”
Tubbo’s breath had hitched at those words. Emperor?
He swiftly darted his vision across the crowd, seeing if anyone else was nearly as alarmed as he was. The mention of his unelected status already threw Tubbo off his feet.
Needless to say, nothing could prepare him for what his new leader would say next.
“IS TO REVOKE THE CITIZENSHIP! OF WILBUR SOOT AND TOMMYINNIT!”
That moment wasn’t real, it was anything but. That moment was the start of a new era, one without any support system.
“NO!” Tubbo screamed, a simple plea but one from the chest and one that was all that would release from his lips.
That was when the arrows started to fire.
A barrage of arrows followed Tubbo’s mentor and best friend.
The announcement of exile shifted the world off balance.
Officers popped up and out of the crowd, sprinting after the two.
Wilbur got his priorities straight immediately.
First, protect Tommy.
Second, escape the nation he built.
“TOMMY GO! TOMMY GO! TOMMY GO!”
Everything was a blur. The fire, the chasing, the screams. It overwhelmed Tubbo until he couldn’t process the world around him anymore.
But there was one thing he could do… go after them.
He wasn’t expecting to need to run for his life, but the years of war taught him to expect the unexpected.
Tubbo ran. He ran past the crowd, through the arrows, after the family he loved.
Smoke flooded the air as monuments burned behind him, urging him, pushing him forward.
He would’ve ran until his feet bled.
He needed them. They had made themselves a cornerstone of his life. He reminded himself of this as he powered after him.
Many officers tried to stop him, but they couldn’t keep up. And the ones that could were preoccupied with taking down Wilbur and Tommy.
His breath turned frantic.
Each step shaking his gasping more and more off balance.
He blocked the world out and focused on running. Tubbo’s focus was on his breaking family, his speed, and nothing else.
That was probably why he didn’t notice an officer’s ender pearl bouncing off his head.
The gemstone slammed behind him, and in an instant, another officer followed.
Mid-air throwing Tubbo to the ground like he was nothing.
An instantaneous put down of the meaningless attempt at reunion.
Before Tubbo could process, he was met by a blade to his face. Looking up he saw him, the young officer,clad in netherite armor and a violet cloak that draped over it.
Slits rested over his face, under and above his two eyes. Antennae rested over his golden blonde hair. The two purple irises before all black scaleras, both of them glaring into Tubbo’s soul.
“You’re not permitted beyond this point,” the young officer stated.
Tubbo had never wished he were armed more than now.
They were the same age, but the alien boy was a newbie and Tubbo was already a veteran. If he had anything to defend himself with, he would have no trouble defeating him.
Alas, he did not, so he went for a new route.
Without the acknowledgment from the young officer, Tubbo kicked the alien right in the center of the chest. Knocking the wind out of him and giving Tubbo enough room to run off.
Although no longer following he ran backwards.
He had made escape tunnels weeks before. They ran through all of L’manberg.
One second Tubbo was running from a swarm of officers. The next second he was underground.
The ceiling above was thick, but not thick enough to block out the commotion above him.
He didn’t see anything… he didn’t need to see his mentor getting shot to hear Wilbur’s screaming as his life was stolen.
Tubbo knew it was merely his second life, as L’manberg never considered that information to be taboo as the Greater SMP did. Wilbur would live one more life before completely expiring, but it was still horrifying. The scream would still ring throughout Tubbo’s head for the rest of his short life.
Panic overtook the former Secretary of State. How could all of this happen so quickly?! Where was Tommy?!
Did Tommy at least make it out?! Tommy only had one life left!
Wilbur most likely had been removed out of the country and to safety… Tubbo’s best friend couldn’t have that luxury.
He frantically pushed down his communicator, and began flipping by the frequencies of his friends. Faster than he has ever done it before, he reached for his closest friend.
“TOMMY!”
He was met by a panicked whispering voice in hiding.
“Tubbo?! Is that—?!”
“TOMMY! THERE'S NO TIME! MEET ME IN THE TUNNELS!”
“What?!”
“TOMMY— THE TUNNELS I SHOWED YOU! THEY’RE ALL UNDER L’MANBERG! GET THERE AS SOON AS YOU CAN!”
“That’s kind of a problem, big man! I’m kinda surrounded.”
Tubbo felt part of his world shatter and die at those words.
“WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN, DO YOU HAVE ANY ENDER PEARLS?!”
There wasn’t a response. But through the headpiece he heard the bumbling of Manberg guards.
They knew the cruel officers were getting closer. Tubbo could hear the bumbling mess of voices through the communicator, Tommy heard them in real time.
“TOMMY, DIG DOWN!”
“Goodbye, Tubbo.”
The silence after that was deafening.
“Tommy?”
Nothing.
“TOMMY, PICK UP!”
Nothing.
Tubbo screamed. A raw cry that rang through the empty halls. From the entrance to the end, the boy's cries could be heard as he frantically flipped back and forth through channels.
His breath went higher than the clouds and a tightness formed in his chest.
No no no no no! How?! It wasn’t their time yet— not Tommy’s nor Wilbur’s!
Tubbo didn’t notice as his breath felt blocked. Only gasping in half breaths, sending his head to the moon. Nor did he notice his own tears.
He spent the next 15 minutes hiding away, quaking under the severity of his situation.
His brain couldn’t even process the rage yet. All he knew was fear. Fear for his friends, his country, all engulfed everywhere he was, infecting him like a virus.
Then he heard the clacking of shoes down the halls.
Hope; Tubbo’s least favorite emotion. A state of lies and anxious waiting, that’s all that hope meant to him.
“Tommy?!”
Was it true? Was his friend finally safe?
He ran down the halls he created.
Instead of the smell of dust and the sight of golden blonde hair, Tubbo was met with more officers. The ones who took over his country so quickly.
Not just any officers too; but the one who burned down his home, and the Purple alien. The man he stabbed in the back and the boy he kicked in the stomach.
Tubbo backed away, wanting to run down the halls he had built, run to his library, and barricade himself there.
Sapnap, the elder officer, walked forward.
“Hello, Officer Underscore, it’s been a while.”
“What do you want with me?” The goat boy snapped.
Sapnap laughed.
“I don’t know what part of that drug addict disguised as a president has rubbed off on you, but back in the Greater SMP, we would say ‘hello’ before asking questions!”
Tubbo snapped back.
“I’m not gonna ask again; what are you here for?!”
Sapnap chillingly walked past Tubbo.
“We don’t want anything from you.”
In one swift movement, Sapnap grabbed Tubbo by the ear, gripping some of his hair along with it. Earning a small grimace but not much else.
“The president wants you.”
Tubbo was led through the streets, held like a show pony, he went silent from humiliation. Every pair of eyes felt like laser-beams on his back. Look at what we did to your founders. We killed your leader, threw out his right hand man, and now we have your precious Secretary of State under our heel. Tubbo could hear that coming from the officer that held him down. The cruelty of his old boss returning and restricting any movement that could’ve been his.
Then they met the president. Right by the walls, carrying an axe, by his vice, and then staring him down. Schlatt was calm, caught in a sickening giddy at the country he was destroying.
“TUBBO!” He said with a disgusting joy, as Schlatt wrapped him in the most appalling hug he’s ever received.
He didn’t let Tubbo speak.
Instead he flooded the boy’s senses with fake praises and the arguments around him.
“I love this guy!”
“Everyone look at Tubbo!”
“My very own Tubbo.”
“Hey! He looks scared! Hey, don't be scared!”
“Is he crying?”
Tubbo wanted to run, but everywhere was another danger that would shoot him down without hesitation.
Quackity, Schlatt, Sapnap, the Alien boy, all so eager to put him down like a dog if he weren’t to fulfill the wishes of his new leaders.
Around him was a crowd of revolutionaries, his allies, his friends, Fundy, Niki, and even King Eret, the traitor. They were right before walls, and signs ordering that they wouldn’t be touched.
That was when Schlatt ordered him to tear down the walls. The walls he built and upheld with his own blood, sweat, and tears.
He wouldn’t let it go down without a fight. He wouldn’t lose his friends and his memories on the same day.
Third little thing he tried; resisting Schlatt’s demands.
“NO! FUCK YOU!” Tubbo snapped.
“Excuse me?” The president asked calmly.
Tubbo threw the axe that Schlatt gave him to the ground as the self appointed emperor serenely walked to him.
“Is there a problem?” He asked, leaning close to the small goat boy. He was once again reminded how much that goat man smelled like beer. It was so strong, piquing Tubbo’s senses and having him wince at the odor.
Tubbo almost didn’t respond, but one look at the disgusting tyrant before him sent him flying into a rage.
“YES!”
Tubbo let all the words fly off his chest, flying out in a stream that he couldn’t control. He started and slowly became unable to stop.
“YOU CAN’T JUST WALTZ ON IN HERE— BECAUSE YOU PIGGYBACKED OFF QUACKITY’S SUCCESS AND FOUND SOME RANDOM LEGAL LOOPHOLE THAT MADE YOU PRESIDENT! OR WHAT?! EMPEROR NOW! GREAT! FUCK YOU!”
The president was calm.
“I’m doing all that I legally can to make Manberg better. If that means letting us expand, then so be it.”
“Manberg?” Tubbo asked in disbelief.
Schlatt nodded.
“We’re starting a new era around here. Might as well make some… aesthetic changes. What do you think, Tubbo?”
Tubbo snapped back, venom spitting from his voice.
“I think it’s disgusting. And I don’t think a new era is starting, I think you're forcing a new era that no one wants.”
Tubbo shouldn’t have said that.
He heard Sapnap’s weapons being readied to hurt.
He saw Quackity step away, his worry being barely concealed under his sunglasses.
He smelled the pungent aroma of alcohol get closer.
“Really? Well you think , you don’t know , Tubbo. And I don’t think I’m freeing Manberg, I know I am. That’s the difference between you and I, Tubs—!”
“Don’t call me that,” Tubbo spat.
“—the difference is, you THINK you know, I know! Now… since I know and you clearly don’t.”
Schlatt picked up the axe just below Tubbo’s feet, forcing the handle into his slippery hands, leaving Tubbo to fumble the deadly weapon.
“These signs… and these walls… they need to go.”
“No! I won’t!”
Schlatt started to lose patience.
“No?!”
“FUCK YOU! I DON’T NEED TO EXPLAIN MYSELF! GOOD DAY, MR. PRESIDENT!”
Tubbo tried to leave silently, but Schlatt’s cold demands did their work.
“Keep him here.”
Before Tubbo could process, Tubbo was thrown back by Sapnap, holding his axe in a way that promised that he would use it.
Schlatt grabbed onto the poor boy by his bicep, well within the sight of the crowd. Tubbo protested, but Schlatt squeezed tighter and leaned in, whispering into his ear.
“Tubbo, I’m done asking nicely. Make this cabinet look good… it’s all you’re good for.”
Tubbo had enough, he broke away, but was met with a strike across the face by Jschlatt’s cruel hand.
The first of many times the president would batter him.
Tubbo felt his rough, calloused hand touch the painful mark on impulse. He looked around, his friends hidden, watching but not responding. Just by Schlatt was Quackity, frozen with the same shock that Tubbo was.
It would take Tubbo so much longer than this to learn that no one would save him.
“NOW, TUBBO!” Schlatt screamed, causing Tubbo to step back.
“IF YOU’RE NOT GONNA FIND WILBUR SOOT AND TOMMYINNIT— YOU MIGHT AS WELL MAKE YOURSELF USEFUL!”
When Schlatt’s voice came back, it was calm, sickeningly sweet with poisoned ambrosia.
“Tubbo, see to it that these signs were removed.”
Only when Tubbo took everything down in tears, did anyone cry for him.
But the cries were never “get your hands off Tubbo.”
They were always “Tubbo, get your hands off the walls.”
Even when he wept, the cries at him were never for his safety.
-:-:-:-
The fourth thing he tried; calling for help.
Tubbo managed to save it. Not himself but a small lab. The lab where he was welcomed with open arms to the revolution.
Not without Schlatt parading him around Manberg nor without a backhanded comment about his voice.
It dragged Tubbo further to the breaking point.
Luckily, a voice interrupted Schlatt before he could cause any more damage. The voice of the Vice President. The winged man that dragged him to this.
“Toobo!” Quackity introjected, calling Tubbo a nickname that would slowly wear on him.
“Hey, man! Umm… can I talk to you?”
Tubbo hardly wanted anything to do with Quackity, but he wanted nothing to do with Jschlatt.
So he nodded, wordlessly accepting the Vice President’s proposition.
“If you would allow us,” Quackity stated, getting the president's attention.
Schlatt stepped back.
“No! Go ahead.”
Walking with Quackity was different from walking with Schlatt. Schlatt paraded him, “look at your beloved founder cowering under me! Step away or I’ll beat him!” Tubbo would practically hear him say.
Quackity walked with him as an equal. Choosing the old house of an old traitor to hide into.
That’s when it all came crashing down for Tubbo. He fell to the floor, sobbing, gasping, feeling part of him burn as his world fell apart.
Soft sobs were heard throughout the small one room house, weakness that had been mocked, belittled, and slapped into silence.
As Tubbo slumped to the floor, the Vice President followed him. He watched as the goat boy’s undeniable rage boiled over into terror and woe.
Quackity was never good at comforting people, let alone when the problems being faced were partially his fault.
Nonetheless, he placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“Hey! Hey! It’s okay it’s—!”
Tubbo took one look at Quackity and tore away.
“NO! YOU— YOU DID THIS!”
“Tubbo, things are a little crazy right now, but I promise it won’t be like this forever!”
Tubbo felt a harsh laugh escape his chest.
“Hah… a little crazy? A little crazy, Big Q?”
Quackity pressed his lips together.
“Tubbo—!”
“You— you killed them!” Was all Tubbo could mutter.
Oh. That’s what it was about.
“Hey! Hey they’re okay! Tommy got away! Wilbur only lost one life, but he should be fine, if that’s what you’re—!”
“You… you chased them out… for what!? For the crime of fighting you!? Were they too much of a threat for you guys!? ‘OH BOO HOO! WE ONLY WON AN ELECTION BY HIJACKING IT!’ FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!”
“Hey, Schlatt isn’t that bad!”
Tubbo was at a loss for words.
He literally just hit me, is what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t string the words together.
“Tubbo, I know it looks bad,” Quackity said in the most soothing voice Tubbo’s heard from the Vice, “But I promise I won’t let this last forever. We’re gonna improve infrastructure, and after we do that… I… just… things are so crazy right now—!”
“What do you mean? You made it like this,” Tubbo responded in a broken voice.
Tubbo gulped.
“You’ve literally doomed our nation! You’ve doomed it, Quackity! We were just fine before you came in AND FUCKED EVERYTHING UP!”
Then they heard the president just outside the door.
“EXCUSE ME!?”
Tubbo fell to the floor and began sobbing at the mere voice of his new president. Fear wrapping him, enveloping him whole.
“YES, SIR!?” Tubbo cried into the air.
He felt a clenching around his chest, like a python squeezing until the end of time, not letting go until the panic killed the boy.
“IS THERE A PROBLEM IN THERE?!”
Quackity looked down at the panicking boy and responded.
“NO, SCHLATT! EVERYTHING IS FINE!”
Tubbo gasped for breath as he held himself close. Relief washing over when he heard the president walking away.
Quackity didn’t just let it happen.
He sat just next to the hurt boy.
“Tubbo? You good?”
The goat boy didn’t respond.
Quackity sat just next to him, placing his large, soft, golden wing onto the Secretary of State’s back.
“I think Schlatt can hear us,” Quackity whispered.
“Yeah. No shit,” Tubbo spat.
Quackity paused, and then reached out his hand, letting the Secretary of State lean into the touch. He was so desperate and exhausted. Quackity took notice of Tubbo’s calloused hands that contrasted the soft texture of his own.
“Tubbo, I’m so sorry… I’ll talk to Schlatt about what happened.”
“Yeah, you better, jackass,” Tubbo retorted.
“I will… that wasn’t fair.”
Tubbo let some barriers fall.
“I don’t get it.”
“Hmm?”
“Why did you need to exile them? Why did you need to shoot them?! What’d they do?!”
Quackity wasn’t stupid. He knew when he made a mistake.
He had a long way to go before he earned this would be killer’s trust, but he tried his best.
“I’m gonna be honest with you… I didn’t like Schlatt’s exile order either.”
Tubbo sighed.
“You’re full of shit.”
“Woah! No! No! No! No! No! Hold on!”
“You cheered, Quackity!”
Quackity sighed.
“Tubbo, I’m gonna promise you something.”
“Mhm, okay,” Tubbo said, his voice deep in apathy.
“The second I can, I’m gonna overturn the exile order.”
Tubbo’s ears perked up at that while his business partner continued.
“What?”
“The second, I mean the second it is feasible for me to allow them back, I will… I promise.”
Quackity’s soft tone of promises soothed the mistreated boy enough to keep him almost wordless.
“I’m not gonna let them stay out forever.”
Tubbo nodded, wiping away his tears, leaning into his ally, his hope. He let his wings wrap him close, clinging to his guardian angel.
Then they heard the devil. Satan himself called and clamored for the damnation of Tubbo’s soul.
“TUBBO!”
The goat boy flinched, hugging his guardian angel for dear life, on impulse, without much thought.
The two slowly arose, locked hand in hand. They moved to the door, seeing the president calling. Tubbo wordlessly looked at Quackity.
‘ He’s going to hurt me.’
The guardian angel could practically hear those words from just behind Tubbo’s eyes.
Quackity looked at Schlatt, and did something without thinking.
He pulled out a long dagger from his jacket.
It was roughly 9 inches, golden, and shaped like a feather on his angel wings. His guardian angel’s gift to fight the devil himself.
“My tata gave me this, so don’t lose it… also I’m gonna want this back eventually! You’re gonna get one of your own!”
Tubbo looked down at the blade.
“So you’re saying ‘stab him’?”
“NO! Just… stay safe!”
That was the last little thing Tubbo tried that day. Unless blocking drunken strikes later that night counts as a “little thing”.
-:-:-:-
The fifth thing he tried; joining Pogtopia.
No, not even joining the revolution could save him.
Well it might’ve, if Wilbur had let him join.
It was a relatively peaceful gathering. It was a one day visa formation.
Wilbur and Tommy would get the option to visit Manberg for one day.
Schlatt made sure to remind everyone that no meeting under his regime would ever be peaceful.
All it took was Tubbo touching a book that didn’t belong to him.
That was all it took for Schlatt’s wrath to spike.
When Tubbo led Wilbur and his best friend away, he begged. He begged them to let him join the revolution. Tubbo would’ve been willingly taken as a prisoner because it would mean he would be far from Schlatt.
But Wilbur denied it.
“Pogtopia isn’t ready for new members.”
Wilbur didn’t know it then, but he was torturing his student. Leaving him alone to wait and wait agonizingly for his return, writing letters that cursed Jschlatt in the meanwhile.
Wilbur left him to starve.
-:-:-:-
The sixth little thing he tried; calling for professional help.
One particularly bad night, Tubbo called the Manberg guards to protect him.
He was met with laughs, disbelief, and brutal insults at the expense of his crying voice.
Tubbo learned a valuable lesson that day as he was battered… the Manberg police cannot be trusted. Under any circumstances, they cannot be trusted.
-:-:-:-
The seventh thing he tried… taking it.
Taking the angry nights at Schlatt’s house.
Taking the beatings.
Waiting…
-:-:-:-
After all of that… Tubbo finally went to the most extreme solution. One that would work, but one that would also ruin his short little life.
-:-:-:-
The president was dead.
Those words would ring throughout the country tomorrow. The news stations would all report on the incident and everyone would be struck by the news. It was something that the public wouldn’t be able to comprehend. See, the president wasn’t just dead, he was butchered.
Sirens blared, and the strobe of blue and red filled the air, shedding light on the bloodstained walls. The president was stabbed 36 times in the chest. One attacker stealing all his lives, just like that. The killer stole them, like those lives were nothing. Like there would always be more for the taking.
Crimson droplets covered the walls around the scene like a whip’s lashes. He laid in a growing pool of his blood and a tarp was placed over him. It was a sight that would disgust any inexperienced individual who came across it.
The best detectives and officers of Manberg swarmed the scene. The seizure-inducing lights outside were interrupted by every flash of a photo being taken. The disfigured body was already outlined, and to be sent to the morgue for further inspection.
Purpled, assigned to the case, went over all the files with his boss.
“So… that doesn’t look like a suicide,” Hannah started, trying her best to ease the tension for Purpled.
“Oh? Hi, ma’am,” Purpled paused awkwardly, “I think I should show you what I have so far, I haven’t gone over with everyone what I think happened, but that part could easily be saved for the department.”
“Of course, but I still would like to hear your thoughts.”
Purpled nodded and began to walk Hannah through the scene.
“I believe it started in the kitchen. The attacker was with the president. From what I can see, from the blood trails, the attacker was cornered here,” The alien boy said blankly.
“The attacker scratched President Schlatt on the cheek and began fighting. Which ended quickly when the attacker stabbed the president in the back of the knee. The attacker got the upper hand and… the rest is history.”
Hannah grabbed the murder weapon. It was a long golden dagger shaped like a feather.
She started thinking.
“Do you think this was political?”
“We both know that Schlatt wasn’t popular with the public... but I don’t think so.”
“Really?”
“An assassination would be quick, and they would immediately get out to prevent getting caught by his guards.”
“So what do you think it was?”
“36 stab wounds, a clear sign of a crime of passion... I think it might’ve been personal.”
“Interesting… Anyone who came up during initial research?”
“The odds are that the suspect is someone on Schlatt’s cabinet, and people were going in and out of the house all day and meeting with different people. The killer most likely got out discreetly. In addition to this, the odds are, with how the suspect attacked the president, the attacker was smaller than him.”
“Go on.”
“There were scratches while tackling him to the ground and the attacker had appeared to jump onto him in a pouncing motion.”
Hannah paused, then looked out, “I guess that our next course of action is to interview the people of his cabinet and see if they had a reason to kill the guy.”
Purpled agreed, “Consider it done, Ma’am.”
“DETECTIVE ROSE! We found something!” Punz shouted across the room.
Purpled and Hannah followed the bellowing voice to the site. Redirecting their thoughts to Punz’s discovery.
They traversed down halls and through corridors, until they saw it.
A hole.
A deep hole that led to a tunnel… a clumsy escape route.
They were sloppily dug and filled with cobblestone.
“Officer Punz?” Hannah started.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Follow the cobblestone trail, take Purpled and Sapnap with you.”
Punz nodded, imploring the other officers to come after him.
Sapnap, already nearby, pulled out his pickaxe and started digging.
A full enchanted netherite axe broke through the ground like an earthquake.
-:-:-:-
Tubbo slammed the door behind him, his heart pounding so hard his ears rang. He looked down at his outfit, drenched in blood. The walls seemed to close in and the air was damp and steaming. His brain raced back and forth trying his best to process.
What had he done ? He was a murderer.
He began pacing back and forth and started to shake. Oh god. What would happen to him now? Imprisonment? Exile? Execution? How could he outsmart the smartest detectives in Manberg? Even if he pleaded the truth of self-defense, Schlatt’s Manberg, even without Schlatt, was ruthless, and wouldn’t hesitate to make him pay.
His breaths were heavy and labored, stress resulting in hyperventilation, quick and painful breathing with no center. Should he just run and try to find Wilbur and Tommy? Where were they?
He had no time to feel sorry for himself, despite the shock of what he had done being petrifying. He dropped unceremoniously to the floor and shook restlessly.
Tubbo gasped air in and out, sobs being hardly choked out. Unbridled terror holding his soul in a death grip. Tubbo squeezed his arms and forced his knees up to his chest. This quelled his trembling slightly, but not by much.
Even with the tyrant gone, he still lived in unending distress. Even as Schlatt was dead he still terrorized him. Schlatt was the cause of his problems, he was the reason he lost his family, his friends, his home, his country, and now was no exception.
After what felt like too long, he shot up off the floor and frantically rushed down the isles, and began to look for the books he remembered. It didn’t matter how well he knew these corridors, his head swirled with thoughts that refused to silence and he couldn’t help but get lost multiple times.
Eventually, he came to the forbidden corridor. It was the most prized possession of the library, it was full of censored books and tales silenced by the man he had killed.
Tubbo frantically pulled a book off the shelf. “A Terrified Child’s Guide to Getting Away with Murder”, autobiography of agirl who simply went by “A.M.” A child killer who had killed her abusive father and complacent mother. It was censored for “promoting violence”, as Schlatt put it.
Strangely, Tubbo needed the guidance of this little girl. He flipped through the book shakily, accidentally skipping over necessary pages. Sending him in a loop of back and forth as he anxiously skimmed page two, three, and the dedications page.
Dedications: To all the kids that couldn’t make it out
“Hello, reader, my name is A.M. or Aimsey, I’m currently in prison and I’ll most likely stay here for life. If you’re reading this, let’s be honest, you’re probably some kid who wants to believe you’re quirky or cool for liking murder mysteries, even though most people do. But if you’re here because you read the title and needed my help, I’m sorry. You were stressed, needed an escape, and you might’ve had no other option.”
Tubbo was oddly comforted by this book. Aimsey had somehow struck him personally, told him he wasn’t a horrible person for what he had done.
“Here are my tips for you, summed up quickly. I will go into more detail later.
- Step one; Hydrogen peroxide— clean your fingers and in between your fingernails with it. Don’t care if you scrub your hands raw, you’re just protecting yourself.
- Step two; any clothes present at the scene are to be immediately disposed of. Burn them immediately. I don’t care what it was, or how much it meant to you, immediately burn it. You’re not going to be able to get those stains out.
- Step three; If you can, make sure you’ve removed the weapon from the crime scene.
- Step four; Run. I don’t care how secure you think you are, go somewhere far, far away.
- Reminder; the justice system will not help you. The best they can do is place you in CPS and the foster system, at least for me, is fucked up.
- Stay safe, you deserve to live a full life despite whatever happened to you to drive you to that.”
Tubbo let out a sigh, then swiftly went to burn his Manberg uniform. Something he had been waiting to do for a long time.
His jacket, his tie, his business suit, all gone, destroyed, straight into a furnace… and he loved it. It meant that he had started to break his ties with Jschlatt’s horrific regime. He watched it go up in flames, and smiled, not out of malice or rage, but rather out of just pure relief. He felt the tension in his shoulders and jaw relax.
The heat lightly peppered the skin of his face as he slowly changed back into his stocked away revolutionary clothes that he had missed so dearly. Despite not being able to wear the jacket nor jabot, that defined the uniform, it still meant something. It still meant more than Schlatt’s uniform ever had.
After trying all the little things, Tubbo freed himself by the extreme.
After all of that pain the regime caused him, he was at peace. Strangely enough, the answer to his relationship with this tyrant was violence.