what tragedies befall us

how much longer can we wait?

AN: enjoy this draft ive had molding in my drafts for months, warning its kinda shit. i dont know what happened to past me but the first part was pretty fleshed out and shit and then present time i show up and the second part has like two paragraphs god help me

TW: mentions of explosions/wars/scars, implied suicide

Oh, if you go, I'll go

Your Tubbo, the compass says, a gift from Ghostbur.

Tommy would have loved it, would have cherished it. But that was before he went through a war with no real victory, witnessed his brother blowing up the country they fought for before his very eyes, been exiled by the very person who he thought would never betray him.

Your Tubbo, the compass says, but is he really still Tommy's?

Tubbo exiled him. He exiled him, exiled Tommy, the person who stuck with L'Manburg from the start, who spent countless hours mining resources and building up defenses, who gave up the things most precious to him for its freedom. It was supposed to be the five of them; Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, Fundy, and Eret. Carving out a pocket of independence for those sick of the rules. Evidently, it didn't last long.

Eret betrayed them, unleashing their enemies on them without hesitation. They lured their four comrades to their lair, promising safety and supplies and escape. What a liar. And all Tommy had to show for their time together, their friendship, their brotherhood, were the scars criss-crossing his chest.

Fundy drifted away from them, sick and tired of being neglected by his father. He had tried, he really had, building up those walls, losing sleep just to finish tasks, making sure everyone was content before caring about his own health. But no one ever returned the favour, no one ever acknowledged how much he contributed. He was just the extra, shadowed by Tommy's brave sacrifice and Tubbo's helping hand.

Wilbur closed himself off from them, growing paranoid. He stayed quiet during conversations, glared at everyone through eyes narrowed in distrust. He hardly came out of his room in Pogtopia, hardly spoke a word besides okay or fine or you'll find out later, Tommy. His eyes were so empty, so devoid of the determination to win, so lacking in the sparks of anticipation and anger. Wilbur became a husk of his former self, no longer spouting words of motivation, of morale. No longer spouting anything.

Tubbo—Tommy trusted Tubbo. He trusted his best friend to make all the good choices, all the hard choices. He trusted his president to be better than the one before. 

And look where that got him.

Oh, if you go, then I'll go

Your Tommy, the compass says, a gift from Ghostbur.

Tubbo would have loved it, would have cherished it. But that was before he had to drop everything and become president, had to cut down his hours of sleep to single digits per week to sort out paperwork, had to exile his best friend, the one he thought he'd always have by his side.

Your Tommy, the compass says, but that isn't true, is it?

Tommy was just making it worse. Tubbo had his job to do, had a country to run, had a tyrant to please, and Tommy was just hindering him. He was just making things so much more difficult than they had to be. When they were on the brink of having a peaceful lifestyle once more, he just had to go on and cause problems. He just had to go on and burn down that house.

Tubbo loves Tommy. He's his best friend, even now, even if Tommy thinks he's been betrayed. They've been through so much together, and they've come out stronger each and every time. They've walked off several wars with a few lives less but bond the same.

They've promised one another forever. They promised to be friends t'ill the end of time. They promised to stick by one another through thick and thin (how come the words feel as empty as his heart?). 

They promised to be there. 

Tubbo loves Tommy, he really does.

But he doesn't love him enough to go against Dream, the real leader despite Tubbo's title, doesn't love him enough to just throw away their whole country, the nation they've fought and died for.

He doesn't love him enough to try.

As long as you want me to stay

He doesn't know what urges him to step through the portal. He doesn't know what makes him decide to visit the island. He doesn't know what he expects to see.

But it's definitely not this.

It's definitely not a beach dotted with soot-stained craters. 

It's definitely not a flimsy piece of white fabric fluttering in the light breeze.

It's definitely not an unstable tower of various mismatched blocks reaching past the clouds.

It is most definitely not that last one.

He falls to his knees, vision blurring and world seeming to sway. Surely not, surely not, surely not surely not "surely not surely not surely not" he repeats, and tries hard to believe it.

But the words fall on deaf ears and reality is spinning out of focus and he finds it hard to believe anything other than the scene before him.

"Surely not," he says, but it sounds weird in his mind and it feels fake on his tongue and it holds nothing but empty meaning.

AN: when did i start this? if im gonna be honest, probably like back when i started this book. i dont even know how long ago that was but at least five months hahaha dont mind me I KNOW THERE WAS LORE OKAY STFU LET ME WRITE IN PEACE