xviii - unable to mend

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Trigger Warning: mentions of death and exploitation, grief, relationship issues, shouting/yelling,  breakdown, beeduo angst

Word Count: 2602

A/N: I don't want to do another beeduo angst again, it's too confusing but at the same time, painful. Glad that it looks like I won't be dealing about it much anymore, it's not the focal point of the story after all.

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When the two arrived back to Snowchester, Tubbo stops the steed and eyes his child..sleeping softly against him, "Ghostboo, if you don't mind-"

The ghost nods and grabs hold of Michael, carrying him by his arms with ease, "Can you hold him long enough to get to the house?" Tubbo asks, tying the horse on a pole with some leash,

"Well I can sure try." Ghostboo vaguely replies, "Besides, I can always attempt to teleport him there, but the noise might wake him up though."

Tubbo nods, "True."

The two get to the house and Ghostboo notices that some furniture is gone, as well as their inventory, "Oh right, when Michael was missing and you- I mean Ranboo was..I didn't want to stay here anymore. So I had a temporary house somewhere, and even when Michael was with me, I still kinda stayed there." Ghostboo hums as he listened,

"Yeah..I know. That's alright. And don't worry, transporting those stuff back here in Snowchester will be a piece of cake when I'm around." He beams before disappearing.

Tubbo presumes that he must have teleported to the house. He was rather surprised that Ghostboo knew where he stayed for a while but maybe he must have showed him about it a few months ago and the memory slipped from his mind.

Man, he's getting old.

Placing Michael on a bed available for him to use, Tubbo wraps the little piglin up with the blankets. Thankfully, he remained asleep during the journey, he didn't want his rest to be disrupted; he's still a growing boy.

While his son is in a slumber, he wanders his home that was once filled with him, his son and his husband.

He smiles at the memories that slowly resurface in his mind as he checks out the rooms and all the floors, although some furniture were taken away by him and now it's all empty..abandoned.

Reminiscence turns to nostalgia..then to that aching feeling that he knows well that things couldn't go back to the way it was.

Although Michael is safe and sound, Ranboo is gone..and the ghost that he has, like Wilbur, it's far from what he usually acted.

And he hates it.

He hates that he's here, and not Ranboo.

Groaning at how much hatred he has to him, he tries to push it all away and to see the brighter side of things; Michael is here and he's okay, Ghostboo may be a struggle to deal with but reforming a relationship with him doesn't seem so bad, and Tommy's alive.

Things can get better, eventually. He sighs heavily, tired of hoping that things might actually get better.

"Something on your mind?" That familiar tone of voice freaked him out and realises its just Ghostboo,

"You fucker- You scared me!" He chuckles anxiously before noticing he got himself outside the house, what was he doing the whole time he's been thinking?

"Sorry, I think that means I teleported quietly, considering you haven't noticed." He beams, seemingly proud of what he did,

"Yeah, or like what you said, something on my mind." Tubbo mutters and that makes the ghost frown,

Ivory - An Eburnean Tommy AUWhere stories live. Discover now