mcyt one shots that i write at 3am

The 4th

// ptsd flashbacks , panic attack , implied death , body horror (?)

// beeduo angst , hurt & comfort

•

BANG

"Shit..." Tubbo whispered under his breath, his chest feeling heavy. He grabbed his ears and squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to muffle the sound, hearing the bangs outside getting louder and brighter with each one. Every year he forgot about this day, and every year he was painfully reminded again. The flashes of colour clouded his vision as he stumbled to get inside. He fell.

Technoblade stood in front of him, expression completely void of any mercy. At least, that's how Tubbo remembered it. Tubbo began to panic as Techno lifted his weapon, and he banged on the walls of his confinement screaming for help. For anyone. Wilbur, Tommy... Schlatt? But there was no sound coming from his mouth, and no help. Only the bright light and deafening bang as Technoblade fired his weapon, and the searing pain of the burns that spread all across Tubbo's body.

Everything was dark, yet so bright at the same time. He could feel it, just as bad as he felt it that day. The burning pain of his scars as he clawed at his face, attempting to erase the memory. He screamed out in pain, though his voice felt lost in the deafening bangs. Tubbo's hands were pulled from his face and the sound was suddenly muffed. He had no idea what was going on, but he didn't dare open his eyes. He was afraid.

It was quiet now as Tubbo's breathing began to slow. He was wrapped in something big and warm, it had a comforting smell and was very soft. The only noise now besides Tubbo himself, was a soft purr that vibrated against him. He considered the other things he could feel, like the large hand stroking his head, but Tubbo still didn't dare open his eyes. It could be a trick. However, whatever was holding Tubbo seemed to noticed him stir.

"You're okay, Tubbo," they murmered, "He's not here. You're safe with me, now, in our home. No one will hurt you, I promise."

Tubbo gripped tightly onto the other.

"B-Boo..." he whispered, voice hoarse from screaming.

"I'm here, Bo," Ranboo replied softly, holding Tubbo tight, but not too tight that he felt trapped, and he could leave at any time if he wanted to. Tubbo kept his grip tight on Ranboo's shirt as he attempted to ground himself, matching his breathing as best his could to the rise and fall of his head on Ranboo's chest. Ranboo continued to mutter words of encouragement and comfort as Tubbo calmed down. Eventually, the smaller boy opened his eyes and took in his surroundings.

They were sitting on the floor in Ranboo's "panic closet", the quietest space in the mansion where Ranboo often went to calm down. The lights were dim, and they were completely shielded from the flashes outside. Ranboo had tucked themself into the corner, holding Tubbo gently in their arms. Tubbo noticed his shirt and jacket in a pile on the other side on the closet and looked down to see that he was swaddled in one of Ranboo's own, very oversized shirts. He glanced up at Ranboo in confusion.

"Your clothes were dirty, wet with snow and covered in dirt... and blood," Ranboo explained, "I just changed your shirt to make you more comfortable, so sorry if that makes you uncomfortable..."

Tubbo shook his head gently and leaned back into Ranboo's chest, "s'okay." His face still stung, and the salty tears in his wounds definitely didn't help. He wondered if this was how Ranboo felt whenever they cried, tears burning like a thousand tiny fires running down your face. He pitied the Ender-hybrid, because for him this was temporary, but for them it was not.

"I liked what you were doing earlier, that helped," Tubbo muttered.

"What was I doing earlier?" Ranboo questioned. Once again, their short-term memory had failed them.

"M'not sure," the boy murmured, "It was like purring or something. Like a cat, a quiet noise and a gentle vibration. Very comforting."

"......you better not have just called me a catboy."

Tubbo couldn't help but laugh weakly, "Can't deny the truth, bossman. You were definitely purring."

Ranboo frowned and hummed in a disapproving manner, but they allowed Tubbo to shift into a more comfortable position against them before wrapping their arms around him again and emitting that same gentle purr. Tubbo was (unfortunately) right, it was like a cat's, but mixed with a faint warbling sound like an Enderman's idle call.

Tubbo smiled softly and closed his eyes, "Yeah, like that."

Ranboo rolled their eyes in mock annoyance, but they really didn't mind. Besides, it was comforting for them too, that's why they did it in the first place. The purring meant Ranboo was either happy or calm and content, and those emotions were Ranboo's favourite to experience, despite how rare they were.

"I think it's best to stay here for tonight, in the quiet," Ranboo suggested, "The celebrations will be going on for a while."

Tubbo nodded in agreement. "What are they even celebrating that needs all that fuss?"

"It's the Fourth of July, Tubbo."

Tubbo scoffed, "Fucking Americans..."

Ranboo hummed.

"Wait, shouldn't you be celebrating then?" Tubbo asked.

"Nah," Ranboo shook their head, "I know I sound American, but that's just because they're who I learned English from. Human holidays and celebrations are not a part of our culture."

"Hm, sometimes I forget you're not human."

Ranboo looked down at Tubbo, his soft ears twitching slightly, tiny horns peeking out from his fluffy hair, and his tail lightly tapping against Ranboo's side. They smiled sadly.

"Sometimes I forget that you were."