Teardrops On Pages And Cuddles In The Cold

Chapter 2

Ranboo had been out mining all day. It was nice, just him, his ender particles- which were surprisingly nice today- and the mines. Eventually he had to go home though, his muscles aching from the tough work of digging through ore for building materials, and his sensitive ears alerting him to the sound of a storm on the horizon.

Ranboo was humming to himself as he walked in the door, sliding the hood of his coat off his hair and shaking his head slightly to get the dual-toned strands to sit comfortably in his usual half-black, half-white hairstyle, the colors laid adjacent to his skin's.

He stopped humming, however, when he saw his husband, Tubbo, standing in the hallway, a concerned expression on his face, with his book, his journal, open in his hands. His life, every second, all recorded onto a series of books, which Tubbo was now apparently reading.

He stands for a second, silent, as the room shakes in front of him, the floor falling and the walls crumbling, letting in nothing but a seeping, terrifying cold filling his veins, his coat he had been taking off dropping to the floor beside him.

No. No, he wasn't supposed to know about that. He wasn't even supposed to know it existed, much less read it. No, there was too much there. Everything. Everything was in those pages. Everything he'd ever done, every bad thing, every horrible, self-loathing thought, everything they resulted in. All his missteps and mistakes, all the shit he'd gotten himself into, the grave he had dug and now had to lie in.

"Serves you right," sneers an ender particle, which Ranboo's enderian ears automatically flick away, only for it to be replaced by another.*

"Should have just done it. You wrote it down. How could you? All the evidence is there, now what's gonna happen?"

"He probably thinks you're insane. Have fun at the insane asylum." Another one interrupts.

"Should have just jumped. You're such a coward. Your fault."

"Failure."

"Disgrace."

"Wrote it down like we told you not to, now look where you are~"

"Your fault."

"Such a failure."

"You even failed at failing. How disgraceful is that?"

"Failure." "Your fault." "Disgrace." "Your fault." "Should have just-"

"R-Ran...?" The chorus of jeering tiny voices is cut off at the sound of Tubbo's unsure voice, and although he can only see, not hear the tiny pests that plague his husband's ear, Ranboo's terrified, because he knowsTubbo can tell just from the quick flicking of his ears and his facial expressions that they're telling him something he really shouldn't be hearing right now.

"Ran, it's- I'm sorry I got into your stuff, I- I was cleaning, and- please, can we just- just talk? I- I know this is probably from a while ago, but I- I need to know you're okay... please?"

Ranboo can't think straight, can barely hear his husband as he realizes how fast his tail is flicking behind him, how quickly the room is starting to turn purple- wait, no, the room's not purple, the room doesn't turn purple- why is the room turning purple? And why can't Ranboo hear-

There's a touch on his arm, and Ranboo flinches at the contact, though he's grateful to have it, as it stops the room from spinning in a half-purple blur.