unfinished symphony (jschlatt x dsmp!reader)

chapter one: the metronome

You were the defense secretary of L'manburg. It was the only thing going through your head as the crowd erupted with startled shouts. Niki was crying stoically, eyes drilling into the stage as she internalized her hatred, saving it. It would keep her fed in the coming months, you supposed. Fundy, shocked to a rare silence, all evidence of mirth replaced in his features with grim determination, put a single comforting hand on her shoulder.

You were the defense secretary of L'manburg and Wilbur was gone, disappeared into the forest beyond the walls. Your president was gone. The man you had gone to war with -for, really-, that you had served under, that had led you and your nation to bittersweet victory and independence was no more than what you could keep in your memories.

You were the defense secretary of L'manburg and Tommy, dear sweet Tommy who had asked you to help him search for beehives and slimes, was now an enemy of the state. He was second in the line of succession, and you'd always felt somewhat slighted by that. But now? Oh, now. You would trade any earthly possession for him to be right back here, within the walls that you yourself had devised, built, created, to keep him safe.

Your hands were shaking against your sides as that rotten goat stood at the podium, laughing in the face of YOUR people, in charge of the country that YOU'd fought for, that YOU had spilled blood and taken lives for. You took a step forward, hate boiling in your chest as your higher brain scanned your inventory for your bow...and then stopped.

Tubbo was standing against the opposite wall, shoulders hunched as he took stuttering breaths, and then looked up at you. Your hands fell to your sides again, and you took a deep breath and nodded at him. You were the defense secretary of-

"Manburg!" that awful goat's voice cut into your thoughts. "A new era! A new Manburg!"

Fine. You were the defense secretary of Manburg. It was literally your job to protect the citizens of Manburg. And that was going to start with Tubbo.

"C'mon, kiddo, party's over-" you called out, extending your hand to him as you turned away from the stage. He took all of two steps before Schlatt turned and put an arm around his shoulder, looking you straight in the eye.

"And just where do you think you're going?" he asked, something nearly imperceptible flickering in those dead eyes of his. Rage, hatred, you didn't know and truly didn't care to know. "It's not past your bedtime, is it sport?" he tousled Tubbo's hair as the kid gave off a shaky explanation under his breath. "What's that?"

"He said he's coming with me, we have errands to attend to. Someone has to keep this place running," you replied, and all at once that saccharine smile dropped off his face. It thrilled you, taking this bastard down a notch, but you tried to keep your gaze steady, your hand still reaching out.

"Well, see, running Manburg is my job now," Schlatt monotoned as his crony vice president anxiously took the mic, babbling about shit that didn't matter to fill the dead air. "So if there's something you have to say to each other you can do it right here." He waited as neither of you moved, fixing each other with the same hateful stare until he chuckled and finally let Tubbo go. The kid, -and god wasn't he still a kid, didn't that matter?- ran to you, putting you between him and Schlatt like a barrier, peering up over the top of your head as he held tight to the quiver across your back like a lifeline.

"Tell ya what, dollface," you wanted to smack that word so far out of his vocabulary that his great-great grandkids still had an aversion to it, but you refrained, "for whatever reason, I trust you. Go run your errands. Spread the good word about Manburg for me-"

"Fine. Whatever you say, Schlatt-"

"It's Mr. President to you," he cut in again, clearing his throat and taking a step closer to you. "But I still want some collateral."