miserabilis

r

Tubbo had laid out a blueprint and was annotating and tweaking little things of this newer nuke he was designing. More had to be made. Michael was Tubbo's constant top priority and there was nothing more in this world ,it seemed, that mas more important (to Michael's dad anyway).

After Tubbo had committed crimes beyond the idea of fathomable and had been the sole cause of the destruction of Quackity's country more and more nukes had to be made. Though the idea of making more nukes when the whole reason he was in trouble with Quackity was because he used them was silly some what, he had too. He had become to hate close combat  which became a last resort for him (though obviously before using words because that wasn't on the list) and this was the safest way for him to protect Michael. 

Michael was pottering around the house. He'd grown well and was now slightly taller than Tubbo which seemed to please Michael even though the height difference bothered his dad. His goal was to be just as tall as his uncle, Tommy. Tubbo had made him take up hobbies in exchange for lack of systematic education and he's found a couple he liked. He had, lucky for Tubbo and his feeble capability at housework, began to like sewing. Michael loved sewing things together which he had probably picked up when he was little, from Ranboo and his love for the craft too. Others (who need not be named) had tried to get Michael into different things. Such as the art of war.

The weather ,as always in Snowchester, was cold and crisp.  It helped to set the mood that often lingered around Tubbo when he worked. Michael had his legs crossed on the rug just in front of Tubbo's working desk ,but Michael's dad was too engrossed to notice where his son was ,who was sewing bees (secretly) onto one of Tubbo's shirts.

Peace was something the two rarely got. They were often training and doing something or the other. Tommy visited often (to Tubbo's delight) and sometimes Technoblade , a companion of Ranboo, would sneak in through the window.

The door quivered as someone rapped it with their knuckles and Tubbo stood up in caution and immediate wariness. He wasted no time and ran up the stairs, heartbeat increasingly louder in his throat after every step and Michael followed after, completely disregarding the blue prints he had to leave on the floor. Michael was confused. He knew Tubbo was articulate. Smarter than anyone Michael knew (which was about 4 people) ,yet was still baffled on why he was so wary over the door knocking when it could just be uncle Tommy.

 Tubbo by any means wasn't stupid. With his goat ears he cold hear better than people and with all the years he had lived in Snowchester could recognize how the snow squeaked and crunched under weight when someone walked over it. No sound before approaching the door mean]t teleportation. So enderman or a cross species like Ranboo. It wasn't Ghostboo. Ghostboo came in whenever he liked and had no need to knock (to the hatred of Tubbo). 

Tubbo was worried. Very worried. He lived in seclusion and only a couple people were allowed to visit so no one except a few came uninvited. Truth be told, quite a lot of people had developed a fear for Tubbo. 

The door wasn't being knocked on anymore. I believe a better way to explain it would be knocked down. Tubbo was back on the ground floor now. He had equipped Michael with a bow and arrows in a quiver and Michael was fumbling around trying to figure out how to fit the arrow into the right place as Tubbo positioned his sword to his side. 

The banging got loud and Tubbo's heart felt caught in his throat. 

bang                                          bang                                              BANG

One final blow threw the door of its hinges and centimeters away from Tubbo's feet. You could hear a familiar enderman grumbling  and Tubbo quickly ran to close Michael's eyes so no eye contact could be made. 

Then a long black arm reached out to grab Tubbo's wrist and Michealcfelt like his world was ending.