Consanguine Corruption
https://archiveofourown.org/works/36643585/chapters/91402915
Summary:
“Why am I here?” Tubbo choked out in lieu of an answer to what the man had asked him.
A look of guilt crossed the Angel of Death’s face. “I’m sorry about this, I promise we aren’t going to hurt you and you’ll be out of here soon.”
“But why am I here?” Tubbo pressed.
“We just need a way to lure your father here, we’ll let you go after he comes for you.”
At the mention of Schlatt, Tubbo’s blood ran cold. He let out a bitter laugh. “That dickhead won’t even notice I’m gone. What makes you think he’ll face the Angel of Death to try to get me back?”
His kidnapper’s expression became doubtful, and a little sad. “He’s- he’s your dad isn’t he? How could he just leave you here?”
Tubbo shot an icy glare up at the other. “That man is not my father anymore.”
Or...
All Tubbo wants is to completely cut ties with his father. When he gets kidnapped by a group of vigilantes, that becomes easier than ever.
TWs: Kidnapping, child neglect, & swearing
Chapter One:
Tubbo shut down his computer with a relieved sigh. He had spent hours on that one project, and it was finally done. He got up from his desk and cracked his stiff joints. When he’d decided to start working as a programmer, he figured that it wouldn’t be physically taxing. God, was he wrong. He paced around his apartment for a while, stretching his aching muscles, before settling on the couch. He grabbed the remote to his television and hit the power button. Immediately, the local news station came on. Before he could switch channels, a name caught his attention.
“Breaking news! On the corner of Fourth and August Drive, a fight seems to have broken out between infamous villain, Schlatt, and popular hero Dream! Anyone near the area is advised to seek shelter immediately. Schlatt appears to have taken an unconscious hero 404 hostage whi-” Tubbo abruptly cut the reporter off. He really didn’t want to deal with hearing another awful thing Schlatt did today. He quickly switched the channel to some random documentary. He tried to focus on that, and not the angry feeling in his gut, but he couldn’t get his mind off Schlatt. Stupid damn reporter. This is why he doesn’t like the news.
Despite his best efforts, his mind continued to wander towards the top villain. He hated that man with a burning passion. There was no one in this world that despised him more than Tubbo. Whenever he heard about him, though, he couldn’t help but remember how that wasn’t always the case. His hand subconsciously moved to touch his pointy goat’s horns. He envied a time when they were little more than bumps on his head, when he could hide them, hide his relation to that monster. But now, it was clear to anyone who looked close enough that he was Schlatt’s- no. Not son. He reminded himself. I stopped being his son a long time ago.
It was true. The only thing left of Schlatt in his life was the shitty apartment he sometimes remembered to pay the bills for, some money sometimes put in his bank account for Tubbo’s debit card, and an occasional text every few months checking if Tubbo was still alive.Tubbo has been working to sever their remaining ties for years now, though. He’d worked really hard and taken extra courses in school to graduate a year early. All of his teachers expected him to go to university, but he just wanted to get a full time job. He needed a more reliable form of income, something to get the bills paid and groceries bought when Schlatt forgot about him. Eventually, his goal was to save enough money to move out of this place. He wanted to get his own apartment, and finally be rid of the reminder of his origins.
For now though, he just had to wait until that time came. In the meantime, he did his best to ignore these thoughts. With the documentary clearly not doing anything to assist him in this, he moved onto some more productive tasks to get his mind off of Schlatt. He stood up from the ratty couch and turned off the television. He walked over to his refrigerator and glanced at the to-do list. At the top, unchecked, was grocery shopping written in red pen. He quickly opened up the fridge and looked at the contents. They were extremely bare. He grabbed his phone, wallet, and keys. Tubbo walked over to the door, only pausing to throw some shoes and a coat on, before exiting the apartment.
As soon as he left the building, he felt eyes on him. He knew better than to brush them off. Being raised by a supervillain did tend to leave you with some survival skills. Apparently, not enough to just go home, though. He continued walking towards the grocery store. He had finished work at around nine at night, so it was well after dark now. He tried his best to keep an eye out for strangers in the dim lamplight of the sidewalk as he continued his trek onwards. After a few minutes of walking, the feeling of being watched had yet to fade. He was starting to get more than a little concerned when he heard footsteps behind him.
Tubbo froze, for a second, then bolted. He heard running behind him, they were chasing him. He tried to reach the store, where people would see and help, but he was slow. He’d never really been into sports or working out, and he was paying for it now. His breath was coming in short gasps and he had a sharp pain on the left side of his abdomen. He heard his pursuer shout for him to slow down, and he shockingly did. He tried to move his legs faster than the walk they were forced into, but they wouldn’t. Suddenly, a hand grasped his wrist. He pivoted backwards to face whoever was there, and saw a masked face. He frantically attempted to wrench his wrist free of their grasp, but he was grabbed even tighter. “Go to sleep.” They told him, and despite his best efforts, he did.
