Tubbo was ten when he was told his father died. He was at home, watching cartoons and taking apart their microwave to try and make a nuclear bomb like any normal child would on a Sunday afternoon. He remembered opening the door, seeing nervous and guilty-looking police officers sitting on the other side, one with their stupid uniform hats off and in their hands, fists clenched around the fabric as he twisted it.

He remembers hearing the words ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ leave their lips before Tubbo even processed the fact two police officers were standing on his doorstep. 

He remembers his new child service agent trying to explain what happened, how he saw the news about the same bank his father had left only hours beforehand to go to, had been robbed with thirteen other citizens dieing along with his father. He remembers looking over the heroes who were there to ‘help’ the situation.

Tubbo saw how they were scared, only once going inside and then almost minutes later leaving. They had done little to help the citizens who were held at gunpoint, they did barely anything to resolve the situation. 

They didn’t even take action, and even dared to wave at the news cameras as if they were actually doing something other than sitting around. His father and he were on their own, his mother leaving them when Tubbo was only five years old, and taking everything with her. His father struggled to make ends meet, and was going to the bank to plea with them to lend him some money so he could pay for some bills. Tubbo had always understood they were struggling and tried to help where he could so his father didn’t need to worry so much.

He'd cut peoples lawns, fix tbs and game stations (pretty much any electronic you can think of, Tubbo could fix and would fix for money). His father was a good man, someone Tubbo looked up to and wished to be like when he grew up. He still hopes to meet those standards. 

Tubbo was a smart kid, often helping neighbors with electronic difficulties, or conjuring up some new matching in their garage. He was smart, and both he and his father understood this. He was in seventh grade while his original class was going into fifth. Seeing this, it didn’t take long for Tubbo to figure out that heroes were not what they were made out to be. He saw more incidents on the news, seeing the flaws. He understood completely, that the heroes only cared for the attention. At least most of them did. 

There was one that Tubbo loved to hear about, Awesome Dude. He was someone Tubbo knew was real, the man always trying to help those who needed it. He believed that Awesome Dude was a real hero, and no one would tell him otherwise. He eventually met Tommy Innit, someone who he could sympathize with who hated the heroes as much as he did. They bonded, quickly becoming close friends who stook up for one another when the big kids in the foster system tried to ruffle them up.

Tubbo Underscore had found a friend, one he didn’t ever plan to lose. They made up fantasies where they were vigilantes, fighting crime as real heroes should. They eventually met Ranboo Beloved, who was a villain’s kid, someone most people steered away from. 

He and Tommy though? Ran right up to him and demanded they be friends, well, Tubbo did the demanding Tommy mostly stared at Ranboo shaking his head furiously. They became inseparable, if you saw Tubbo, Ranboo and Tommy were not that far away.

When they did strike out on their own, Tubbo was ecstatic. He snagged a job at a tech company and started his new life with no problems. It was even better when their orphanage burned down, leaving the place thinking the three died. Making some fake ID’s and they were golden, absolutely living the life. 

Sure, their apartment had one bedroom, where the three would have to share a twin-sized bed and battle a cover hogging Tommy every night, and maybe their pipes were so rusty that the water sometimes came out… orange, to the point Tubbo would just opt to boil some milk for their mac and cheese because like hell he’s letting his noodles soak up whatever fucked up shit was in that water. And maybe they had really annoying neighbors, the type that Tubbo wanted to just blow the fuck up so he could actually sleep for once at night- but it was home. It was where his two best friends were, and its where he felt safe. 

They got a better apartment once Tommy started working. He was a janitor at a hotel, one that Tommy would always grumble about saying ‘they’re so cheap’, and ‘I should get a raise for having to clean fucking poop off the curtains, like who just lets their dog do that?’. Really, Tubbo loved his new life, and even if he does look back to his father every once in a while, he knew the man would be proud of him too.

He doesn’t remember how they decided to become vigilantes, he just remembers making the tech they needed, making weapons, and ordering them like a cracked psychopath about to go on a murder spree. He remembers how scared the other two were during this time too. He can’t fully blame them, since he had thrown Ranboo out the window… three times beforehand. Being a vigilante was fun, and the best part was that they were really helping people. They were people they citizens could depend on, and that made all three of them smile.

It was a life all three loved, and they know that even with their sad and dark backstories they wouldn't have changed a thing. The vigilante life was what gave them that extra adrenaline pump, made them feel alive and happy. It was their life, one they where happy with and never planned on giving up.