#memorybooks

Okay, well, maybe not kill, but at the least horribly mutilate him. This was Tubbo’s god damn marriage, and he had the privilege to do what he god damn pleased with it, even if that meant never speaking about any of their problems, and skirting around the truth at the best of times, lying directly at the worst- maybe Tommy had a point. 

But that didn’t change the fact that Tubbo didn’t want to be locked in this room, and he didn’t want to talk about his problems with Ranboo.  Tommy already knew that, but for good measure, Tubbo gave the door a good kick. 

“You are so done when we’re out of here, dickhead!” Tubbo shouted through the thick cedar door, and gave it a second kick, which landed this time, if Tommy’s muffled “FUCK” was anything to go by. Tubbo exhaled angrily, but ultimately gave up and turned away from the door to Ranboo, who was sitting against the wall, nose buried in their comm, tail curled around their knees. 

Since Tubbo had gotten to Snowchester yesterday, they hadn’t said so much as a word to him. To be honest, it was adding a little too much fuel to Tubbo’s theory that this entire second revival was a hallucination he had subconsciously created in order to protect his brain from shattering under grief he hadn’t processed yet. That could be the flaw in the delusion- maybe Tubbo had gone so long without hearing Ranboos’s voice, he could no longer imagine it vividly enough to fully include her. 

But no, surely not- it hadn’t been that long, had it? 

Tubbo watched Ranboo there for a moment, stewing in his anxious thoughts,  before speaking up. 

“I don’t think he’s letting us out,” he said pointedly. “Unless you fancy climbing out the window on this third-story room.” Tubbo seriously entertained that option for a moment, before brushing it away, if only for their lack of proper equipment.