𝕱𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖘 𝖇𝖊𝖘𝖙 - 𝖙𝖚𝖇𝖇𝖔 ANGST

trapped again

Tw: trauma, abuse, torture :((

Again please tell me of any more triggers!

As soon as they were behind the podium, out of the public eye, shlatts smile dropped, he grabbed tubbos wrist harshly, digging nails into skin, tubbo winced in pain but he hid it.

Shlatt was dragging him somewhere, he diddnt know where, but he knew it wanst good. He was terrified. He diddnt want to go through- all that- again.

He started to see a large white building come into view, and he realied that that was where they were headed. He diddnt say anything to shlatt, he diddnt dare trying when he was angry- he had learned to do that the hard way.

The building came closer and closer and he found himself increasingly panicked. He was going to be locked up again. Alone. In pain. No no no no no NO. NOT AGAIN. NOT AGAIN. PLEASE NOT AGAIN.

he found himself tugging away from shlatt, but his grip became tighter, to the point that he saw little red droplets forming around his fathers fingertips.

This was barely pain to him though, hed been through alot worse. He was so lost in thought he diddnt realise they were now at the house.

He felt his body roughly hit solid ground and he heard a loud crack. He knew that wasnt the floor tile.

"Tubbo what the FUCK where you thinking? Running away from me, leaving your poor old dad all alone for so long." He paused, "get up."

Tubbo slowly peeled his small body off the floor, pain shooting up his back as soon as he stood up and then he was on his knees again.

"Stupid bitch! Just get up!"

He struggled and stood up again, this time he diddnt fall, luckily.

Shlatt grabbed his arm again and dragged him towards a door, which then led to a set of stairs leading downwards, tubbo was expecting to be chucked down again, but shlatt walked down with him.

This was worse. This meant more pain.

It was just a normal basement, full of boxes and storage, but it scared tubbo, it was a small space, one he knew he would be stuck in for the next week at least.

He sat cross legged on the floor, and shlatt left, as he expected. But what he diddnt expect was shlatt to come back with a giant bottle of vodca in hand.

"Tubbo, you diddnt think I'd just leave you for a week for leaving me for seven years did you?" He chuckled, and walked over to the corner of the small room, tubbo watching his movements like a hawk.

He grabbed a rather small box and walked back over, leaning down to tubbos height and placing the box and bottle next to him. He opened the box but not enough for tubbo to see what was inside.

"Stick your hand in the box."

"Wh-what? I dont know what's in there-"

"Do it, kid" his tone was aggressive, and scary, so tubbo just did as he said, not thinking twice.

And oh

Oh shit.

It was fucking barbed wire.

It hurt, alot, but he diddnt show shlatt that, he focused all his energy of just not letting himself show any emotion.

"Can I take my hand out the box now?"  Shlatt paused at the question, obviously purposefully elongating tubbos pain.
"Ok yes"

He pulled it out, and got even more cuts in the process, his hand was now soaked with blood.

"Oh. I should clean up some of that blood shouldn't I, you made a bit of a mess"

And before tubbo could process anything, shlatt had opened the bottle of vodca and started to pour it onto his hands, it went into every cut. This time, tubbo couldnt hold it back, he screamed loud, and I mean loud. If there were any buildings nearby they wouldve heard it.

It was mostly from shock as he thought it was over, but shlatt obviously thought otherwise.

"Wimp" he whispered under his breath before leaving, and tubbo heard the door lock behind him.

And here he was, again, sat on the floor of a cold, damp, dark room, in pain, unable to do anything but cry.

A/n
So um, yeah shlatts a dickhead, we all knew that already