Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ranboo’s life had gotten a bit borning since autumn came about. In the summertime, he was constantly busy, whether he was helping Philza tend to the cows or planting seeds in the gardens, or helping out with other tasks around the sector. He’d found he had less to do as the days grew colder and the leaves began filling the grass and the sky grew more and more gray in the afternoons.

He’d spent more time practicing reading and writing in English after discovering Phil’s stash of books in his basement. He’d been helping organize; Tommy had been given the job of sorting the chests and tidying up, and he’d decided dragged Ranboo into it since gods knew Tommy couldn’t stay on task to save his life.

Ranboo had stumbled upon a small chest filled with books of many different shapes and sizes, bound with twine, lined with yellowing pages and fading words. He’d closed the box, having a feeling if Tommy saw, the books may not survive, and asked Phil about it later.

His eyes widened as Phil came up the stairs later that evening with the box in his arms. “This the chest you found earlier mate?” Phil asked with a knowing grin, placing the chest gently on the floor in the middle of his living room.

It looked much older now that Ranboo looked at it for a second time. The wood looked dated, dried and a little banged up. The leather straps holding it closed were cracked and peeling, and the gold plating the corners seem to be dented in a few places. He figured it had been with Phil for many years, unless he had been unnecessarily careless with it. Maybe its age was why Phil had perked up so much when he’d mentioned it.

Philza huffed as he let the chest sink into the plush rug and straightened to look up at Ranboo, resting his hands on his hips. His wings, had they been out from underneath his robe, would have stretched as he leaned back for a moment.

The fire crackled softly beside the enderman hybrid as his ears perked up and he nodded. Phil smiled softly. “Come here, I’ll show you.”

Ranboo scooted towards him, leaving his comfy spot on the floor by the fire, fueled by curiosity. His tail swished as he sat down, tucking his legs underneath him in anticipation.

Phil brushed off the dust that had gathered on top of the wooden chest and it’s leather straps, blowing and sending dust flying into the air. Ranboo had to suppress a sneeze.

Phil’s fingers quickly undid the snap holding the chest closed and Ranboo was sure it had to be the thousandth time he’d done it by the way his fingers undid the latch with no hesitation. Phil lifted the lid, the hinges squeezing softly as he let it hang open. Ranboo turned his head slightly, gazing excitedly into the chest and taking in the sight of the books filling the inside. Just the sight of it filled him with excitement.

Phil smiled softly at the boy, reaching inside and pulling out the book on top. “These have been around for a very long time,” he murmured as he unwinded the twine holding the book together. He opened the cover and Ranboo scooted only closer to see the ever yellowing pages. Filling the page were strokes of black ink in an elegant, small script.

Ranboo had a difficult time reading it, as his reading in English wasn’t very good yet. Phil had been teaching him how to read and write in English since he’d only known how to write in enderian when the two had met, but he still wasn’t too great at it. He still mixed up his words and often forgot to not write enderian words in English letters. He adapted to speaking English fairly well since it was all most everyone around him spoke, but reading and writing was still a bit of a challenge. He didn’t get much time to practice anymore.

The script was loose and tightly written together, far too fancy for Ranboo to be able to read.

“I used to write in these books about my adventures,” Phil explained, flipping through the pages with a smile etched with nostalgia. “My handwriting has surely seen better days, but the memories aren’t effected by that, are they?”

Ranboo shook his head, still staring intently at the script, trying to pick out and piece together words as if he could soak up the memories and the very emotions from the pages. “Your adventures you say?” he questioned, squinting, trying to make out a sentence. He could hardly piece together anything coherent so he gave up and looked back up to Phil.

“Yes! Where else do you think all of my stories come from?” Phil asked with a grin.

Ranboo’s face lit up. “You mean… those stories are all real?” He remembered back to many times of sitting around a bonfire, Phil with his sword out and his voice confident and passionate, Techno often by his side, acting out and telling him, Tommy, and Wilbur stories. He’d told many of battles, of adrenaline fueled scenes and dastardly rulers, making them both laugh and listen intently with his words. Ranboo had always known Phil was an excellent storyteller, and an even better hunter and father, but he had no idea the stories he told had any truth tied to them.

“I’ll let you discern for yourself which are true my boy.”

Ranboo was shocked to silence. He looked back at the chest, filled to the brim with words and pictures, recollection of past times, all contained within the books fragile pages. “May I hold one?”

Phil laughed heartily, closing the book he held and re-wrapping it with its twine. “Of course mate,” he said. “Let me find…” his hands placed the book to the side and reached back in the chest, moving a few to the side before pulling out a certain blue-covered book. “Aha!” He grinned, admiring the book.

The cover was made of a rough, scratched up material covering its hard case. The pages were in questionable condition, some torn and bent in places from use over years of time. Phil handed the book to Ranboo who held it carefully in his hands, cradling it like even looking at it could rip it to pieces.

“Go on,” Phil urged, leaning back and supporting himself with his hands as he watched. “Give it a look.”

Ranboo lifted the cover of the book, letting it rest open in his hands as he took in what resided on the first of the pages. A mixture of black and red ink covered the page.

This, he didn’t need to read to understand.

A rough image of Philza Minecraft himself, wings stretched towards the sky and his sword mounted in its sheath, decorated the page. The lines were all overlapping and Ranboo could see how the drawing was constructed, start to finish, by the jagged, yet expertly placed lines. He gawked at the page, unmoving, stunned. “Phil, I didn’t know you… I didn’t know you could draw?”

“That’s because I can’t,” Phil replied. He sat up, looking at the book. His eyes gleamed with admiration and for a second, they flashed with remembrance of another time. His face faltered for a moment at the memory before regaining its stature. “Techno drew that.”

“Technoblade drew that? I…”, he looked back at the drawing, “…it’s amazing.”

“He’s quite the artist,” Philza agreed. He flipped the page for Ranboo to reveal another drawing, this one a sketch of a mountain giving way into a flower-covered valley. “…but don’t tell him I said that.”

“Why not?”

Phil hummed as he thought about his answer. He looked back up to meet Ranboo’s face. “He doesn’t like to share it with many people, it is Techno after all. He’d insisted on burning it years ago once he’d filled the pages but… I couldn’t let it catch fire. All that ink and time gone to waste. All the things he’d drawn, lost to the flames.” Phil’s voice sounded almost… mournful as he retraced the memory to Ranboo.

“Does he know you kept it?” Ranboo asked. He felt almost as if this were an invasion of privacy, like these drawings were meant only for Techno’s and Phil’s eyes. He supposed, if Phil trusted him… he should trust himself, should he not? But still, he questioned what Technoblade would think had he been there.

“He does,” Phil nodded. “Or he used to. It’s been so long, I wonder if he’d even recognize this old thing. It’s been years since I’ve seen him pick up a pen.” Phil reached out his hand and Ranboo closed and handed him the book back.

As if summoned by mention of his name, the door a few feet away from them opened and with it came a breeze and none other than Technoblade. Phil and Ranboo both turned towards the sound. “Ah, Techno, perfect timing,” Phil greeted.

“Phil,” Techno greeted simply. He looked to Ranboo as he took off his coat, quickly looking away from Ranboo’s eyes and at the floor. “Ranboo,” he said, politely nodding.

“Hello,” Ranboo said, pulling his legs in closer underneath him. The fire popped loudly, making his ears perk. He blinked away his focus on the sound and trained his attention on Phil’s words as he further welcomed Techno.

“Did Tommy ever finish organizing the basement?” Techno asked, crossing the room to poke at the fire. He prodded the mostly-burnt logs causing them to spark and hiss at the movement. The wood glowed red as it had been reduced to coals, some still burning softly.

“He and Ranboo did earlier this afternoon. Tommy could hardly focus on his own, so Ranboo graciously offered to help.”

Ranboo had to ignore the urge to say Tommy had told Ranboo he had to help or he’d gut him, but decided against it.

“That boy,” Techno huffed, not mad, so to speak, just understanding of Tommy’s nature. “He can’t do a single thing without company.”

“Nothing’s wrong with wanting company,” Ranboo spoke softly. “And… I don’t mind at all. It gave me something to do!”

“And, he managed to uncover an old chest of mine.”

“Oh really?” Techno’s attention was skewed for a moment as he placed two more logs on the fire, positioning them in a way to allow oxygen to reach the newly born flames. He then turned back to Phil and Ranboo. “What chest? Don’t tell me it’s full of wither roses, gods know you hoard those as if they’re made of gold.” Techno huffed. “I’ve begun to hate the things Phil, you have a problem.”

“No, not wither roses,” Phil chuckled. “You and I both know those are far too dangerous to keep in the house. Gods know Tommy would figure out a way to grind them up and smoke them if he had access.”

Ranboo chuckled a bit. Tommy would definitely do something to that nature given the chance.

“This chest is filled with books.”

Techno’s face seemed to twist just slightly for a moment as he looked past Ranboo’s figure to see the chest behind him on the floor. His features shifted slightly as he seemed to recognize the gold embedded into the chest’s wood. His eyes found the book still in Phil’s hand and his eyebrows furrowed hardly enough to be noticeable. “Is that…”

“It is. Come sit,” Phil spoke.

Ranboo was intrigued. He’d never seen Technoblade look so… quizzical. He always held an expression of assurance, of knowledge. His extensive years of hunting and battle gave him little to be surprised about he supposed, but for once, Techno looked… baffled.

The piglin hybrid rounded the group to sit on the opposite side to Ranboo to Phil’s left, his eyes locking on the blue book. “I thought I burnt that book a decade ago,” Techno said, taking the book from Phil who handed it to him without question.

“You almost did. However… I thought it would be best to not waste the ink.”

“Damn your sentimental nature,” Techno said with no real bite in his words as he flipped through the pages. Phil chuckled. “Waste the ink,” he muttered, absentmindedly as he flipped through the pages.

Ranboo watched from his spot, gaining a glance at two other drawings before Techno closed the book suddenly. Ranboo jumped slightly at the soft noise. He’d been a little too focused on the pages.

“Memories from another life,” Techno said. “Decades ago…”

Ranboo pretended to not be confused as Phil agreed and Techno placed the book back into the chest. Decades? Had it really been deacades since the pair had seen these books? Since Techno had used a pen and captured these moments?

“There’s no sense in reliving past days,” Techno hummed, standing swiftly. His eyes landed back on the fire as he exhaled softly. “Not when the present is still here kicking our asses.”

“You’ve always been a pessimist,” Phil countered as Techno began to walk towards the kitchen.

“I prefer the term realist, Phil. You and I both know equally well that reality is a stubborn horse that won’t hesitate to kick you in the face.” He paused for a moment before exhaling sharply. “I’m making tea for Wilbur since he’s a complete idiot and caught a cold swimming in the lake in the middle of October. Enjoy the books.” With that, Techno rounded the corner and left.

Phil shook his head lightly, looking back to Ranboo who pressed his lips together tightly in response. “Time is hard to capture, but not impossible,” he chuckled softly.

Ranboo nodded. “Not impossible,” he repeated. He brushed a piece of hair lazily out of his eyes and adjusted his sitting position. “Are you glad you’ve written down all your stories Phil?”

Phil’s wings shifted beneath his robe as he breathed in, then out, deeply. “I think I am. It means I don’t forget all the things I’ve done, all the people I’ve met.” He smiled, but Ranboo sensed a twinge of sadness in his features. “It helps me relive and… remember it all. The good, the bad, the lessons, the lives.”

Ranboo nodded, pulling his knees up to his chest. He rested his head on his knees gently, peering back into the chest, catching another glance in case Phil shut the chest and he never saw the books below again. “I wish I could remember half as well as you do,” he hummed. “I don’t have any books… We hardly have enough sugarcane for our food, much less to spare on binding a book.”

Phil frowned. “You are unfortunately right about that,” he sighed.

The two of them were both equally aware of the lack of food their village had experienced in passing times. Their livestock had hit a rough patch during the summer season and over half died to a sudden disease. They were already short with as many mouths as they had to feed, even less with the loss of cattle.

Technoblade had led a group of hunters for as long as Ranboo could remember (which wasn’t a great measure of time admittedly), but with the sectors hardly moving to allow them to reach other areas of the world in recent times, they were left with hardly anything to hunt. The amount of times they’d come back empty handed was enough to frustrate Techno to the point of overexertion. He’d hunt, alone, for hours at a time to only return with a single deer sling over his shoulder. Enough for three mouths if they were lucky.

Ranboo watered and tended the gardens as much as he could, but there wasn’t much to tend to when the sun scorched everything he planted. They needed rain. As much as Ranboo hated the rain, he, along with the other members of his sector began silently asking the XD gods to bring water for their crops under his breath.

Phil placed both of the books they’d looked at back in the chest, but his hands remained in the chest even after he’d let go of them. When his hands reemerged, in them was a book wrapped in rusty brown leather and sealed with a thin string. It looked newer than some of the other books in the box, like it hadn’t seen as much daylight or reached as many hands. “I think you could use this,” Phil said, handing the book to Ranboo who took it hesitantly.

“Use this? I-“ he flipped open the book to reveal blank white pages, empty and beautiful. “I can’t Phil, that’s far too great a gift.”

“It’s not doing me any good in this chest, now is it my boy?”

Ranboo looked to Phil with question and gratitude in his eyes. He refused to let them water with shock and instead closed the book and clutched it to his chest. “You mean it? I can keep it?”

Phil smiled and nodded. “Of course. Write down all your adventures in there, tell the pages of your greatest dreams. They tend to come true when you write them.”

Ranboo grinned. “Thank you Phil.” Ranboo hugged the book closer.

“Of course mate. Now, you should really be going. It’s getting late and I wouldn’t want you to have to walk back home in the dark, alone.”

Phil stood up and offered his hand to the enderman, who gratefully accepted it. Ranboo hesitated to hug Phil, putting his arms around the mans shoulders as he towered above the older man. “Thank you, I won’t forget this, I promise,” Ranboo said.

“You’re welcome mate. Now go on, get out of here before Will comes back and steals the thing from you. He’s a bit sick of having to write his song lyrics on old dried leafs.”

Phil walked Ranboo to the door, but the two of them were stopped as Techno entered with a thermos in hand. Techno eyed the book in Ranboo’s arms, squinting slightly. Ranboo felt like he was in possession of something that wasn’t his to touch, like he was stealing as Techno’s nose twitched and he cleared his throat. “It’s a good color. And the leathers tough. Just don’t drop it in mud and you should be fine.”

“Oh! Of course, I’ll… I’ll take good care of it! I’ll be careful.”

Techno cracked a small smirk. “I’m sure you will.” He extends his hand with the thermos out to Ranboo who looked at it, confused. “It’s tea. It’s getting colder out in the evenings. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold like Will,” he explained, his voice monotone as ever.

“Oh… we’ll, uh, thank you.”

“Mmhm.” With that, Techno turned and disappeared down the hallway just as swiftly as he’d appeared.

Phil shook his head with a smile before patting Ranboo on the shoulder. “Travel safe mate, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

Ranboo could hardly bring himself to touch the book for a week after Phil had given it to him. He’d sit with it in his lap, just admiring the pages, too nervous about ruining it to bring a pen to it. The paper seemed too expensive, too precious for him to mess up.

The first day he wrote in it, he’d spent hours practicing with a quill on old dried leafs and smooth pieces of bark that had flakes off old trees. He’d written with a quill before as he was learning to read and write English, but he’d never had his own book, his own paper. It felt strange. A good kind of strange, he supposed, but still odd nevertheless. His handwriting felt unworthy of the soft pressed paper of the book.

When the tip of his quill finally hit the paper, he felt like he’d just won a great battle, like he could take on the world with only his feathered quill and ink. He spent the next half-hour sat under an old willow tree, filling the page with his thin and loose script, creating an introductory page of sorts.

He wrote his name, his dwelling and his friends all along the first page. He even scribbled out a small drawing of himself in the corner. He didn’t think it was quite to the level of Techno’s art, but it was distinguishable, and he took pride in it.

Creating and decorating the first page was as if he was prepping it in case anyone stumbled upon the book, maybe in later years, or in case he lost it (he was sure he’d never loose it, it was far to important, he was convinced even he could t forget it). Thinking more about it, Ranboo wasn’t sure he wanted anyone to read what he wrote in the book; he wasn’t sure yet what the pages would soon be full of. He wasn’t sure he wanted the world to see whatever it was he wrote.

He looked at his introduction, rereading his words, noticing a place where he’d accidentally written and enderian word in English letters. He decided against scribbling out the word and making the page any messier.

Instead, he flipped over to the cover. He’d written on the first page already and he was not going to waste paper by ripping it out. An idea sparked in his head and he reached for the sheath on his hip where his dagger lay. He hardly used the thing, but Techno insisted it was always safer to be armed.

He and Phil had taught him and Tommy both how to hold and use their daggers. It had been a dastardly hot day; strands hair clung to foreheads and hands gripped the hilt of their weapons tightly, like a life line even with no present danger.

Tommy no longer had access to his dagger after he almost broke the blade hacking at a tree. He’d somehow managed to snap the deer-bone handle right off the metal blade, almost hacking off his foot in the process. He still sulked whenever Ranboo used his blade in front of him and begged to “borrow” it all the time. He’d learnt not to let Tommy borrow things after he lent him a few bones and Tommy returned with an army of dogs he couldn’t even begin to imagine taking care of.

It was a good thing Techno had a soft spot for dogs and took them all in. He swore it was only for hunting purposes, to create an army of dogs, but Ranboo had seen the way he ded and scratched them behind the ears with a faint smile. Ranboo smiled at the memory.

Taking the thin blade out of its leather casing, he pressed the sharp metal into the soft dusty leather of the front of the book, gently pressing. He ran the blade across the leather making thin, shallow letters in the surface of it.

Do not read

He smiled at how smooth he was able to make the letters, proud of how readable his writing had become with practice. The jagged lines he was able to create with his dagger made his words somewhat more messy, but he didn’t mind.

He still couldn’t believe he had a whole book just to himself.

From that moment, he spent his days searching for things to write about. He didn’t have much, he didn’t let himself write minuscule things just for the thrill of it, but what he did write, he was proud of.

Wilbur played the guitar for us again, it sounds prettier every time.

Jack Manifold dropped a bunch of logs on his foot today. Tommy and I laughed. He didn’t.

Techno showed me how to sharpen my dagger. I don’t use it very often, so it didn’t really need sharpening, but he enjoyed teaching me.

I learned that apparently these “universal nicknames” people have aren’t actually nicknames. Phil tried to explain, but I got a bit confused. It’s fun learning English though.

Flipped to a new, empty page, Ranboo sat, the urge to write itching at him like a bug bite. He’d done hardly anything that day. He’d woken up late and found the village unusually quiet. He’d decided to take a walk and ended up under the same willow tree from when he first created his memory book, as he called it.

It was a peaceful afternoon, quiet and somber. The trees waved slightly, their leafs dancing in the breeze. The sun rested midway in the sky, casting sunbeams cutting through the flowery leafs all around him. He felt comfortable, like nothing could bother him as long as he sat under this tree, under this section of sky.

He decided this was a good enough moment to write down.

I like the sunlight. It feels safe, like there’s not a problem in the world as long as the sun reaches the ground.

As he scribbled away with his quill, his eyes caught as the trees branches started to waver more. The breeze had picked up a bit, but settled down just as easy as it had began. Finishing the last of the words, he laid back against the trunk of the tree, the book open in his lap to allow the ink to dry. He’d almost made the mistake of closing the book with the ink still wet far to many times for his liking.

As he laid back, he felt himself ease against the tree, the seeming natural tension in his body dissipating. He found himself slowly falling asleep, and he allowed himself to not care as exhaustion overtook him and his eyes fluttered shut.

—————

Ranboo woke up with a start. A loud bang  jostled him from his sleep and he was on his feet in an instant. His eyes squinted as he stumbled, trying to gain recollection of what happened and where he was. It had been midday when he’d fallen asleep, but now the sun was long gone.

And in its place, a thunderstorm had brewed.

A flash of lightning startled him out of his paralyzing confusion. “Crap,” he hissed as he picked his momentarily-forgotten book of the ground. He could feel the spray of rain nipping at him through the mediocre shelter of the willow tree and his adrenaline spiked. He had to get out of here.

He couldn’t handle rain.

Gripping the memory book, he shoved in underneath his jacket to shelter it from the rain, tucking it under his arm and praying his jacket was thick enough to shield both him, and the book. With a heavy sucked in breath and already heaving lungs, he began to run.

He knew there was no chance he’d make it running through the rain and the dark down the main path he’d taken to get to the willow tree. The safest way home was through the forest where he’d have at least some shelter from the overhanging trees.

Turns out, the forest wasn’t doing him much help either. With autumn in full swing, the trees provided hardly any cover with their branches mostly bare.

Running through the forest, panting, his face stung as the rain bit and clawed at his skin. He jumped and crawled over fallen trees and bushes in desperation. A brief, brutal image of death flashed across his eyes for a moment, only pushing him to run faster.

He ran for what felt like an eternity, every passing second telling himself that he’d see the light of his village any moment now, but the moment would pass and he was still left in darkness and rain. He turned right, thinking it would bring him at least back to the road he’d strayed from but was presented with only more forest. More and more trees that all looked the same, more jagged rocks with the same ridges that tried to trip him and the same puddles that only expanded the longer he ran. He could have sworn he’d ran past the same group of dying bushes eight times.

He sucked in a breath, so tempted to rub his face, knowing he’d only spread the spray of rain drops running down his cheeks. He turned, looking the way he’d come. He recognized none of his surroundings. Nothing was familiar, nothing was safe.

He was lost.

And slowly melting in the rain.

Panicked, he searched for shelter, anything to get him out of the rain. He ran forward, praying for an abandoned building, a bridge, anything that would shield himself from. As he ran, he began to see a slight blue shimmer that seemed to get clearer as he ran, but when he blinked, it disappeared. He ran only closer, praying it was light from another village.

Finally, just when he was ready to curl up on the ground and pray the storm passed, he spotted an overturned, hollowed out log. The blue haze seemed to slice it right down the middle. It glowed clearer even still as he approached.

He almost choked on his relief when he fit inside. Sucking in a breath, he raked a hand through his hair, regretting it immediately at his hand stung, coated in water droplets. His hair was soaked. He wiped his hand off frantically on his pants to get the stinging to leave.

“You alright?”

The voice startled him so bad he about fell out of the log again. Looking to his left, he saw the rough outline of another figure beside him. As lighting struck, the brief flash illuminated the figure enough for him to know he didn’t recognize it.

“Y-yeah, I think so,” he exhaled, still out of breath, sucking in breaths and desperately trying to get ahold of his heart rate. It didn’t help his face and hands itched and burnt like hell.

“You lost or something?” The voice questioned.

“Yeah, I- I guess so,” Ranboo answered quietly. He used the collar of his shirt to wipe his face, wincing at the pain that shot across his features as he did so.

“Cool, me too,” the voice answered, no real sense of worry or concern in his voice at their predicament. “I’m Tubbo, who are you?”

Chapter Text

“My name is Ranboo,” he answered. Ranboo squeezed his eyes shut, remembering all at once the past warnings he’d been given about strangers. Whether they were from other sectors or not, the potential for them to be an enemy was always high. At the moment, all Ranboo could think about was getting the water off of him.

“Ranboo? I like that name,” Tubbo hummed, obviously oblivious to Ranboo’s current state. Ranboo jumped as another clap of thunder sounded, loud as an explosion as it drilled into his skull.

“God damn these storms,” Tubbo swore. “The thunder has no right being that fucking loud.” He had to raise his voice for Ranboo to hear him over the pounding of the rain and the thump of thunder surrounding them.

Ranboo only nodded, forgetting the person next to him couldn’t hardly see him. He frantically wiped his hands down using any dry part of his clothes he could find, but he was thoroughly drenched.

He took off his jacket, his book still safely wrapped inside. He reached for it, not even thinking about the possibility of his hands still being wet, checking the pages for damage and bleeding ink. His search was rather pointless as he could hardly see his own hands in the dark, much less the condition of the book. From why he could tell, it wasn’t damaged.

“Not a big fan of the rain?” Tubbo asked. Ranboo wasn’t sure whether he’d just imagined the twinge of concern in his voice or not. Ranboo shook his head again before finally realizing they were in pitch darkness. He didn’t understand why this stranger showed even a hint of caring.

“Nope, not really.” His voice was shaky as he wrapped his book up in the mostly dry lining of his jacket, pushing it to the side so the wet outsides wouldn’t touch him. He felt sick as he could feel droplets falling from his hair and running down his neck. “It hurts,” he groaned, mostly to himself, trying to adjust his head to where his hair wasn’t touching his skin. It was virtually impossible; the droplets clung to his forehead and stuck to his neck like leeches.

“What do you mean? The rain?”

Ranboo hummed a pained reply without thinking. “I’m half enderman.” Regret immediately flooded his already overwhelmed senses as he realized what he’d said.

Ranboo had experienced a variety of reactions when people had found out he was an enderman hybrid. Enderman we’re known to be hostile, aggressive mobs when confronted; it scared people.

He didn’t blame them necessarily, he understood the fear. He couldn’t help that looking him in the eyes could be paralyzing, that his teeth looked like sharpened daggers, that he towered above most other living creatures intimidatingly without meaning to. He fully understood.

He was scared of himself at times.

It didn’t make it any less terrifying when he was confronted with swords and crossbows and threats when all he meant was peace. He liked to think he was peaceful; he tried to ignore the urge to lash out when someone looked into his eyes for too long, or when he wasn’t able to calm the anxiety boiling in his stomach. It didn’t always work, but he tried his best.

That’s why he stayed with his friends in the village. That’s why he felt safe there. He’d met people that knew not to look him in the eyes for too long, or to give him an umbrella to protect him when it rained.

Tommy had helped him discover that gardening made him feel calm; digging up the grass and feeling the soil in his hands eased his nerves and soothed his head when it felt as noisy as a hive of bees. As much as he hated finding the small worms wriggling in the dirt as he planted and how the sun bore into his skin and drew sweat, he didn’t really mind spending his days elbows deep in dirt.

Wilbur helped him learn how much he loved music, as much as he wasn’t exactly musically inclined. He’d learned how to use a small shaker in time with Wilbur’s songs on the guitar and he loved it. He’d still remembered a single instance where he’d helped Wilbur write a small line in one of his songs by suggesting a rhyming phrase. Wilbur’s eyes had lit up as he jotted down the words and the verse was completed. Wilbur still smiled at Ranboo every time he sang it.

Techno had taught him more about survival than he ever thought he’d need to know like how to use a bow, how to tell which berries were poisonous and which were edible and who to trust. Techno had taught him that kindness doesn’t need to be extravagant to be life changing. He’d talked to him for ages about the art of war and battle, and even though Ranboo didn’t like to dwell on the thoughts of war, Techno’s words soothed him nevertheless.

Phil had taught him to read, to write, to speak better English. He’d taught him how to stand up for himself better and how to make the right friends. He’d given him a place to live when he’d been stuck with no home, and no friends after his home in a now-forgotten city, long forgotten by its people, was eradicated. He’d been the first to truly show kindness to Ranboo and he’d never forget it.

These people didn’t treat him like a monster. These people didn’t make him feel any less than. They made him feel accepted, like family, almost.

But he couldn’t say the same for everyone. In the public eye, he was still a monster, a hostile, a liability. If this stranger beside him decided to attack him for it, it wouldn’t be the first time. He wouldn’t hold it against him.

“Oh shit! Rain’s not good for your type, is it?”

Ranboo didn’t have much mental energy to spend on being shocked, but his ears twitched at Tubbo’s words. “No it’s really not.”

“Doesn’t it like… burn you or something? Shit uh…” Noise of Tubbo shuffling around echoed from the other side of they hallowed tree as the boy searched for something Ranboo couldn’t see. “I uh… I have a healing potion… I always carry one in case, partially because Niki is paranoid, but- fuck, there’s no way to give it to you.”

“What… what do you mean?” Ranboo sqeaked, his voice weak and rough.

“The border, genius,” Tubbo said, no real bite behind his words. In the dark, a hand extended towards Ranboo. As it approached, it suddenly went flat against the air, as if blocked by something. The blue haze Ranboo vaguely remembered seeing as he spotted the log, sprung to life before his eyes, casting small rays of light around the space. The lines cut through the stagnant air and lit it like a current through an electrical wire. This must be the sector border. He’d never seen it for himself, but now that he had, he was certain that it was what was in front of him. There was no other explanation.

Ranboo became suddenly aware that this meant Tubbo was from another sector.

That made him an enemy.

The different sectors of the world had never been on the best of terms. With some being richer than others, having access to far more resources and refusing to share with other sectors, it caused strife, wars, bloodshed. On the rare occasion the walls would move and open up into other sectors, blood had been spilt, fields once coated in flowers turned into swamps of bodies as the world fought.

When the walls moved, it meant war.

Resources had never been equally spread, not when there were cruel people with far too much power and greedy kings intent on keeping the things needed to survive to themselves.

Ranboo had never experienced the walls moving, he’d never seen the chaos it caused, at least not directly. Of course, he’d heard Phil and Techno’s stories; battles for crops and livestock, wars for already crumbling kingdoms and meaningless land.

Phil spoke of fallen kingdoms and towns left for dead as if they were past memories, like he’d been the king fighting alongside these people, but of course, that couldn’t be true. Ranboo and Tommy teased him about being old, but he wasn’t that old. As far as Ranboo knew.

With the barriers hardly moving anymore, Ranboo hoped it meant peace. He knew no one could guarantee peace, as much as Techno swore on his life he wouldn’t let their town cave to war. He knew, even Technoblade couldn’t fight off kingdoms worth of soldiers.

Ranboo couldn’t imagine what Techno would say had he seen Ranboo interacting with another sector member. Tubbo seemed to be the opposite of aggressive, Ranboo didn’t see him posing any kind of threat. He had no venom to his words or introduction, no intention to begin conflict. He hadn’t tried to claw his way through the barrier to kill him yet, or even speak of their different origins, so he let himself “forgot” about the rule he’d sworn to remember. It wouldn’t be that unbelievable to say he’d forgotten.

“Can’t exactly just shove it through to you with just my hand,” Tubbo sighed, setting the bottle on the ground in front of him with enough force for it to clank against the wood. “Maybe if we had dispensers or something, but I left all those back at home.”

The barrier illuminated the small, cramped and musky space as Tubbo’s hand pressed against it, just enough for Ranboo to make out Tubbo’s features. He was surprised to see two curled horns nestled in the boy’s messy brown hair. A few leafs adorned the wavy coils that covered most of his forehead and threatened to conceal his eyes. Ranboo was sure he was in similar or worse condition.

Tubbo wore a suede brown coat with a white fur lining, which in hindsight, was probably much more suitable wear that what Ranboo had chosen to wear that day.

“You’re a hybrid?” Ranboo asked as Tubbo took his hand away and they were plunged back into darkness, the only light being the occasional terrifying flash of lightning.

“Yup! Same as you. Well not same as you, I’m not an enderman…” Tubbo’s voice faded for a moment before he exclaimed suddenly. “Oh fuck, the rain, right um… how can we get you dry?”

Ranboo shook his head. “Just gotta wait it out,” he sighed, lying his head against the log’s rough surface.

He was uncomfortably curled in on himself, his knees tucked up underneath his chin in order for him to be able to fit inside the cramped space; there wasn’t much room for him to escape to. Tubbo, on the other hand, sat with his legs crossed underneath him, barely touching one side of the log.

Ranboo didn’t need him to stand up to know he was at least a foot taller than the other hybrid, maybe even two. He wasn’t surprised, but that didn’t mean in that moment he wasn’t slightly jealous.

“Doesn’t it like… melt you?”

“Mhmm.”

“Damn, okay, uh… we’ll don’t go all melty on me just yet, we’ve just met, and I’d really like to not have to deal with your puddle form.”

“I’ll try?” It came out partially as a question. He really was trying not to melt, but that wasn’t exactly the easiest task.

“I’d give you my coat to dry off with but uh… yeah we already discussed how that’s not exactly possible right now.”

“Thanks for the offer.”

“No problem big man.”

The two hybrids sat in the closest thing they could get to silence as the rain hammered on the thin wood above them. Ranboo closed his eyes in attempt to distract himself from his surroundings and from his brain telling him he was dying. He forced himself to focus on the rising and falling of his chest, his breath contrasting with the cool dusk air. He was alive. He got out of the rain. He was okay.

He only realized he’d fallen asleep when he heard Tubbo’s voice waking him sharply.

“Hey! Ranboo, dude, wake up. I swear to fuck if you’re dead.”

Ranboo blinked away, sitting up and immediately smacking his head on the roof of the log, his horns ramming through the thin, decaying wood. He hissed in pain as he rubbed his head, trying to get his horns unstuck. Tubbo giggled beside him, rocking as he pulled his feet in closer to him.

“Good morning! Glad you’re not dead!”

“Yeah, thanks,” Ranboo mumbled, yanking his head away from the wood. Above him, there were two fresh holes in the decaying wood. Through them, he could see the blue of the morning sky only partially shielded by over hanging branches and clouds. “I’m not dead,” he sighed, rubbing his horns comfortingly.

His eyes traveled down to his hands. Thin contrasting colored lines traced his skin, dots here and there making him look more like a skeleton than usual. Scars. Some deep, some raised, some discolored and thin.

He sighed. At least he hadn’t completely melted.

“You’re not looking too hot,” Tubbo commented.

Now that daylight had taken over the area, Ranboo could fully see Tubbo. What he hadn’t noticed last night came into fruition as he looked up. He noticed discoloration of his own on the other’s face, covering one half of his left cheek, but made no comment. He felt bad about even looking at it. He avoided Tubbo’s eyes as he nodded. “Thanks,” he simply said. “Don’t feel too hot either.”

Tubbo’s face scrunched up in thought. “Well you are still curled up in this stupid log. First step would be get out and stretch your legs big man.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” It took Ranboo a bit longer than he’d like to admit to crawl out of the fallen tree, but once he did, he felt a little better now that he wasn’t curled in on himself.

“Holy shit, I forget endermen are tall as fuck.”

Ranboo let out a small laugh as he faced Tubbo who, as he suspected, stood at a good foot and a half shorter than him. “Yep.”

Tubbo shook his head, as if shaking away his surprise and dug his head back into the log. When he resurfaced, he was holding the healing potion from the previous night. He swirled around the sparkly contents, the pink liquid glistening in the sun. “You could probably still use this.”

Ranboo frowned. “I mean… I guess, but aren’t those supposed to heal internal wounds only?”

Tubbo grinned, looking from the potion, then back to Ranboo. “Maybe if you’re using regular old healing potions. This baby, however, is special.”

Ranboo’s nose scrunched up in disbelief. He’d seen many healing potions, made a few himself (with Wilbur’s mediocre supervision), he’d even drank one when he’d gotten fairly sick, but he’d never heard of whatever seemingly mystical healing powers Tubbo was talking about. “What makes it so special?” he questioned.

“Well firstly, I made it myself.” Tubbo popped the cap off the vile and pocketing it. “Second, it’s got a special, and totally top secret ingredient. Here, this will be a good test, try and smell it.”

Tubbo held the vial up as close as he could to the barrier in between them without touching it and Ranboo leaded forward to smell the substance. His eyes widened when he could not only smell the potion, he could smell it strongly. It made his nose itch as he retracted his head and looked at Tubbo quizzically. It didn’t smell like a regular potion, it smelled… almost spicy. It smelled warm and fizzy, even though he knew healing potions to have a very flat taste. “Is that red stone?”

“Yup,” Tubbo said, grinning and popping the ‘p’ proudly. “My sibling taught me his ways. Adding red stone makes it stronger, stronger than most traditional pots.”

Ranboo grimaced. “It smells weird, but… if it works, it works, I guess.”

Tubbo sniffed it himself, shrugging afterwards. “Guess I’m used to it, doesn’t smell too bad to me. Or maybe the barrier has a smell?” He leaned forward, sniffing the blue haze.

Ranboo burst out laughing, Tubbo’s face turning a bit red as he yanked his head back. “Why are you laughing?” Tubbo whined.

“You look really funny just-just-“ he had to pause to breathe, “sniffing the air.”

“Oh piss off, you look really funny curled up in that tree.”

“I was only in the tree so I wouldn’t die!”

“And?” Tubbo crossed his arms. Ranboo had pulled the “almost died” card and still seemed to have lost the mini argument. “Whatever. You try figuring out stuff about this stupid barricade and see how dumb you look.”

“Will do.”

“You’re a prick.”

“What did I do?!”

Tubbo rolled his eyes, cracked a smile, then sat down promptly on the grass. Ranboo copied him with a half-hearted sigh. “You’ve got lines all in your face,” Tubbo said. His eyes widened as he realized his words and his mouth flew open. “I didn’t mean! I- wait shit… uh, it’s not bad, it’s not your face it’s… is it from the rain?”

Ranboo reached up to touch his face, feeling noticeable marks where he assumed the rain had run down his cheeks. Or maybe he’d been crying and hadn’t noticed. Either could be the cause. “Yeah, I think so,” he answered, politely disregarding Tubbo’s not-so-gentle statement. “I just… it’s never been this bad. Not since I was like… really young and didn’t know any better. Or so I’ve been told. I don’t really remember that far back.”

Popping the cap back onto the potion still in his hand, Tubbo slipped it into the pocket of his coat. “You need this, or maybe stronger. Those look like fairly deep scars.”

Ranboo nodded. “Yeah but…” he put his hand up to the barrier, a little scared to touch it. He was surprised when he felt a tingling sensation and a warmth spread across his palm as his hand pressed against the barrier. “You can’t exactly give it to me.”

Tubbo grinned. “That, my friend, is where you’re wrong.”

Ranboo took his hand back, visibly confused at Tubbo’s confidence in his words. He was also a little surprised at the name he’d called him. Friend? “What do you mean? Isn’t the whole point that you can’t get through it?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean man hasn’t figured out ways to get around it.”

“Wait… hold on what? You can put things through? Wait, does that mean-“

“Yeah, people can go through,” Tubbo nodded, as if reading his mind. But it’s not so simple. It can be taxing if you do it more than once or twice. Don’t recommend it.”

“Wait… how… how do you know? Have you done it before?” Tubbo’s face twisted into a grim frown for a moment at the question, taking Ranboo aback a little. He went to apologize, but Tubbo shook his head and answered anyways.

“No, but my sibling has. It was uh…” He blinked, letting his voice fade and waving away the tension in the air with his hand. “Anyways, there is a way I can get you the potion, but I’ll need a dispenser…” Tubbo trailed off as he closed his eyes to think. “Oh my god wait! I know how I can do this!” He stood up suddenly, pushing his hair out of his eyes roughly and straightening his coat. “I know where I can get a dispenser! Fuck uh… don’t move! I’ll be right back! Give me… ten minutes!”

Before Ranboo could even think to reply, Tubbo turned and ran. With an open mouth and a question mark of an expression, Ranboo was left in the field all alone. Only when met with the atmospherical silence of the clearing did he begin to fully process what had happened.

All at once he remembered he’d left his jacket and memory book inside the fallen tree and fetched it out immediately. He double checked the book’s condition, received to find he was correct in his assessment the previous night; the book wasn’t damaged. Clutching it to his chest, he sighed as he looked around, remembering he was only in this situation because he’d gotten lost, although, meeting Tubbo was starting to feel worth it, as much as his skin still ached.

He wondered if anyone had noticed he was gone. He was flooded with thoughts of people searching for him and his anxiety increased. He pictured Technoblade finding him with Tubbo. He shivered. He told himself he would be fine, that he’d find his way back and no one would question where he’d been. He didn’t want to have to stop anyone from fighting. The last thing he wanted to do was cause conflict.

He sat cross-legged on the grass, leaning against the old log and opened his book. Taking his quill from tucked deep inside his jacket, he flipped to a new page and started laying out his thoughts. The previous twelve hours were some of the most intense of his entire life, he felt it was justified for him to write about it. He wrote about the rain, the field, the hollowed out tree, and Tubbo, describing what had happened in detail.

His lips pursed as he flipped to the first page of his book, the introduction, keeping a finger on the page he was writing on so he didn’t loose his place. He looked over his introduction and list of friends with a frown. He turned back to the page he was on and picked up his quill again.

Tubbo = friend?

By the time Ranboo had written out his thoughts in ink, a rustling in the trees gave way to Tubbo’s figure as he approached again.

“I’m back!” Tubbo yelled as he staggered forward, a large block of metal in his arms. “Sorry it took me a while, I had to find my way back home which, to be fair was way harder than I thought it would be.” Tubbo clunked down a dispenser in front of the barrier, facing Ranboo’s sector with a huff. “I saw my sibling using this at one point…” he mumbled, messing with the back of the black machine, “…let’s hope I can make it work.”

“Should I scoot back?”

“Uhh…” Tubbo hit a button and the machine whirred before making a loud banging noise. Tubbo’s eyes widened. “Yeah, uh maybe so,” he laughed nervously as Ranboo scooted backwards promptly. “Okay okay, so I think… I think now I put the potion in…” He pulled a small black box out from his pocket and opened the dispenser, placing the box inside. “Had to put the thing in this dumb box so it doesn’t break on the way over… and now I just…” he flipped a switch, “hit this button I think!”

Ranboo braced himself for an explosion of sorts as Tubbo pressed the button. A loud bang echoed through the trees and the machine shot the box straight through the barrier and directly in front of Ranboo.

“Oh my god it worked!”

“Holy balls it worked!”

Ranboo looked to Tubbo with an amused smile, scooting towards the small box now resting in the dirt.

“I wasn’t expecting that to work, or for it to be that easy, to be honest,” Tubbo laughed. “That was awesome!”

“It was,” Ranboo agreed. He picked up the box, a little taken aback by how warm it was; he figured it was because it had just broken the laws of physics, so he disregarded it. It probably wouldn’t kill him. Opening the box, he found the potion of healing vile along with a small cream-colored cloth alongside it. He picked the cloth up, unfolding it to reveal a small, rainbow embroidered crown. “So I just…”

“Dump the stuff on that cloth and rub it on your face, yep.”

Ranboo blinked. He was still a little nervous about the added redstone to make the potion ‘special’, but he didn’t really want to go home with more scars than he left with. He was also still in a decent amount of pain. He took the cork from the bottle, placing it on the ground beside him. Pouring the potion onto the cloth ended up being much more difficult than he originally though and he just about poured the entire thing onto the ground. Tubbo stifled a laugh. Ranboo promptly ignored him.

Taking the now pink-tinted cloth in his non-dominant hand, he hesitated for just a moment before rubbing the cloth on his dominant hand. He sucked in a surprised breath as the strangest tingling sensation spread across his hand. It was much stronger than the tingling of the barrier and spread across his whole hand as the potion seeped into his skin. It felt so strange, he wasn’t sure if it was uncomfortable or not.

“It’s weird, right? But look, take it off…”

Ranboo took the cloth away. Not a scar remained on his hand. Not even the one across his knuckles from weeks ago when he’d accidentally gotten watered by Tommy with a watering can. Old and new, his scars had disappeared. His mouth dropped open as he stared as his newly healed hand.

Tubbo grinned and laughed at his expression. “I take that it feels better now?”

“Yeah, it does! That’s so… weird! That redstone really does make it special.”

“Yep, I told you so. You’re an absolute idiot for doubting me.”

“Yeah, yeah, you were right,” Ranboo chuckled. He quickly wiped down his other hand before moving to his face and then his neck, swiftly healing the damage from the rain. He’d used the whole vial by the time he was done and he felt infinitely better. It no longer hurt to turn his neck or flip through the pages of his book, and for that, he was ridiculously grateful. “Thank you,” he finally said.

“You’re welcome.” Tubbo grinned. “Your face looks much better all healed.”

Ranboo laughed. “Yeah, thanks to you.”

“I don’t think I made your face Ranboo.”

“No I just mean- never mind, forget it.” Tubbo giggled and Ranboo just sighed and laughed along with him. Ranboo folded up the vial inside the cloth, brushing his fingers over the embroidery in the corner before looking away. “Guess I… I can’t exactly give this back now.”

Tubbo waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, don’t worry about it, we’ve gotten hundreds more back home.”

“Home,” Ranboo sighed, glancing up to look at the sun. It was still fairly high in the sky, but Ranboo could tell it was setting, meaning it was most likely far past noon. He’d been gone for a long time, and he was still technically lost. “I should probably go home soon…”

“You live in a village nearby or something?”

“Yeah, it’s… somewhere…” Ranboo twisted his torso to face behind him and pointed… “…that way. I think. I hope. What about you?”

“Uh… yeah,” Tubbo nodded slowly. “…village or something… that way ish.”

“Cool.”

Tubbo looked past Ranboo towards the woods, then back up towards his face. “You got family back there?”

Ranboo shook his head. “Not… like… biological family. But, there are people I… I guess I’d consider family. They’re the closet thing I have to it. I… I feel bad staying because they’re probably wondering where I am.”

“Well then go home dumbass!” Tubbo laughed, picking at the grass around him. “I should probably go back to. My siblings are gonna have a fucking cow when they realizes how long I’ve been gone.”

Ranboo’s eyes flicked up from the ground and met Tubbo’s directly as he spoke, and for a moment, he didn’t even realize his mistake. He panicked as he realized and tore his eyes away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to look at your eyes,” he said quickly, brushing hair out of his face in attempt to shoo away the shame creeping up his back.

He expected some sort of a visceral reaction, but Tubbo just furrowed his brows. “Huh?”

“I… did you not…?”

“Yeah you looked me in the eye, all I did was get a bit lost in them.”

Ranboo choked a bit on his laugh. “Wh-what? Do you mean like…”

“Am I not supposed to look at your eyes? I won’t if it makes you uncomfortable or anything, I was joking before.”

“I… it normally does, some, I guess. It also like… well, you know how it is with regular endermen right?”

“Uh they get all moody and swingy when you look at ‘em, right? And sometimes when they get real mad it’s like you can’t move while they look at you.”

“Y-yeah? Did none of that…?”

“Nope. At least I don’t think so. Here, look at me. Straight in the eyeballs buddy. You couldn’t hit me right now if you tried.”

Ranboo shuffled a bit in his seat on the ground, debating whether or not he should test whatever it was they were testing. He really didn’t want to upset Tubbo and even though he knew he couldn’t hurt him, he was still a bit nervous. The first time he’d accidentally made direct eye contact with Tommy ended up in multiple mishaps that Ranboo liked to forget about.

When he looked up into Tubbo’s eyes, there was no creeping feeling of anxiety that rose from his spine, no instinct to trigger his fight or flight, no fear in Tubbo’s eyes. “I… wait, I can look you in the eye?”

“I don’t feel anything. Except for your dead sexy stare.”

“What-“

Tubbo burst out laughing as Ranboo looked at him, shocked and bewildered. “Sorry I- this is a serious moment,” Tubbo apologized, rocking back and then forward again as he laughed. “I uh… yeah no I’m fine. Are you fine? Do you feel anything? Except for wanting to smack me, that’s probably just because of my last comment.”

Ranboo shook his head, laughing. “No, I don’t feel anything. I… I can look you in the eye.” “What color are they?”

“Hmm?”

“My eyes dumbass.”

“Oh uh…” Ranboo squinted. He hadn’t really looked at too many eyes before, definitely never this intently or for this long; it felt off, wrong. It also felt… comfortable. “I can’t tell,” Ranboo muttered, squinting further. Tubbo leaned forward and batted his eyelashes. “Okay, that’s not helping. Hey, stop laughing at me!”

“I’m sorry! It’s too easy!”

Ranboo shook his head, still smiling. “Yeah okay, whatever you say.”

Tubbo rocked back, brushing some stray grass from his lap and chuckling. “Well, if you need to go home, don’t let me keep you here.”

“You’re not keeping me here against my will or anything,” Ranboo said, picking up his memory book from where it sat rested carefully on top of his jacket. “You kinda save my butt, and… I enjoy your company.”

Tubbo looked up and smiled. “Do you really?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I enjoy your company too.” Tubbo pushed himself to his feet, wiping off his pants swiftly. “This isn’t the last time we see each other, is it?”

“Well, it’s probably not my last time getting lost in the woods, so I’d say we’re bound to meet again.”

“Does that mean… I can count on us both getting lost tomorrow?”

Ranboo’s ears perked and he smiled, standing and grabbing his book and jacket off the ground. Shaking the dirt out of his jacket, he nodded. “Yeah, I may just get lost again tomorrow. Hopefully without the rain part. Or the almost dying.”

“We meet… I mean, get lost, at say… high noon?” Ranboo nodded in agreement, staring right back into Tubbo’s eyes. He still couldn’t tell what color they were. It upset him in the pettiest of ways. “High noon,” he repeated.

Tubbo grinned, gave a crisp nod in confirmation, and turned, waving over his shoulder as he left. “See you then.”

Ranboo tugged on his coat, tucking his memory book gently under his arm and turned back towards where he hoped his village laid. “See you then Tubbo.”

He sure had a lot to write about when he got home.

Chapter Text

It took Ranboo almost another hour for him to make his way out of the forest. Heading East, the sun setting behind him, he’d walked for ages before finding the old road that he’d started from to avoid the rain. He made it back home just in time to catch sight of the sunset, just before the people around him took to their homes and the town lulled to sleep. 

He crept past houses with their shudders closed and blinds drawn, being as quiet as he possibly could to not stir the peaceful town’s people. Something felt oddly comfortable about the quietness of the night. He suppose in comparison to the pounding sound of rain, anything could sound peaceful.

Shortly after walking through the center of towns he reached the dirt path his home laid on. Before reaching his own house, the home of his friends came into view, the windows open and light spilling from them through the parted curtains. None other than Phil sat on the porch, a book in one hand, closed and untouched and a cup of stale tea beside him. As Ranboo approached, Phil stood. His eyes traced the boy with concern, his wings shifting and raising a bit like the hair on Ranboo’s arms when the wind reached it. Ranboo stared down the dirt under his feet as he approached. 

He wished at that moment he were full endermen and could have simply teleported home. He was worried of the reprimand he was sure to get for being gone so long with no explanation. He hadn’t left a note, or told anyone of his whereabouts. Granted, he didn’t know he’d get lost, but he was sure Phil would still be upset. Especially because of the storm.

Phil padded down the steps, meeting Ranboo at the edge of the path beside his home swiftly. “Oh, thank god mate, we’ve been worried about you,” the elder spoke, putting his hands on Ranboo’s shoulders and looking him over. “Where did you go?”

“I uh… I got trapped. It rained and… I ended up a bit lost.”

Phil nodded, removing his hands but still inspecting Ranboo with his eyes. “We saw the rain. We were… we were all worried for you. We know how you get with bad weather, and you were no where to be seen.”

Ranboo rubbed the back of his neck in hopes to alleviate the guilt seeping into his spine with every worried glance of Phil’s eyes. “I’m okay, really. I found an old tree to get out of the rain… and I found my way back eventually.”

“Good thing you did, Tommy was about ready to wander off to find you himself. He claims it was just to practice his navigation skills, that stubborn kid. He’d never admit it, but he was worried the same as the rest of us.”

Ranboo exhaled with a surprised smile and nodded, wrapping his jacket further around his figure. “Sorry I worried you.”

“Don’t be. I’m just glad you’re safe.” Phil smiled and Ranboo felt his guilt bubbling in his stomach. He looked away at his feet at avoid the feeling of Phil’s gaze as if it could unveil all his secrets. Like his very memory would spill out of him like a fog for anyone to devour.

He’d made his mind up; he wasn’t going to tell anyone about the boy in the woods he’d ran into. Not even Phil could know. As much as he trusted Phil, he knew the elders protectiveness would likely outweigh his reason when faced with a potential threat; a unknown variable, a liability. 

“You alright mate?”

Ranboo nodded, closing his eyes and pushing the shame down as he swallowed the lump in his throat. Lying felt a bit like swallowing poison. He wasn’t lying, he told himself, he hadn’t said anything wrong… he just hadn’t told the full story. “Yep, I uh… I’m… I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep much last night and I had to find my way back and…”

“Go rest Ranboo. I’ll let the boys know you’ve made it home safe.” Philza looked up to the cloudy dusk sky with a soft frown and a light hum on his lips. “It’s only getting worse,” he muttered.

Ranboo scratched his ear absentmindedly as it twitched at Phiza’s tone. “What is?” he asked, looking up in case he could catch what the man was looking at before it passed.

“The weather. It’s began to rain more and more, haven’t you noticed?”

Ranboo shook his head. “I mean, it is the end of spring. Should… should I have noticed?”

Ranboo looked back and Phil and for a second, they met eyes. 

Ranboo did not shutter. Phil did not freeze.

“No, I suppose not,” Phil sighed. “It’s probably just an old man being paranoid,” he joked, cracking a grin. Ranboo mimicked his smile though he sensed no comedy in the atmosphere around them. “Just being paranoid...”

With a pat to the back, Phil stepped away, waving as he met the wood of his porch. “Get some rest Ranboo, we’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t let Tommy talk your ear off with question, okay?”

Ranboo nodded, offering a small wave in return. “Of course. See you tomorrow Phil. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Ranboo did not sleep that night. Well, not properly. He was awoken harshly to yet another startlingly loud noise, this time it being Tommy from outside his window and not Tubbo from across the border.

Tubbo.

Ranboo had re-read his previous notes he’d made in his memory book to triple check he hadn’t imagined meeting the boy. He’d had strange dreams before, it would be outlandish if he had simply dreamt it. His book assured him all that he remembered had in fact happened. He had one more friend. And one more secret. One of his only secrets. 

He spent most the night bent over the pages, scrawling out his thoughts, filling in what he’d forgotten to write down in the field. He wrote about what he thought of the border he’d seen, Tubbo’s potion, what he thought of his new friend.

Friend. 

Friend.

If Ranboo could taste that word now scripted lightly onto his book, it would be sweet; sweet as honey, he predicted.

“Ranboo! Get your sleepy ass up!”

Ranboo sat up from where he’d been lying on his desk, his cheek pressed uncomfortably into the rough wood and rubbed his face drowsily. He looked up to see Tommy waving at his through his window furiously. “Come on!”

Ranboo shut his memory book and pushed it to the back of his desk as he stood, brushing sleep out of his eyes. Waving Tommy away from the window, he assured his friend he was awake and would meet him outside in a moment.

When Ranboo opened the door he was greeted with questions. He couldn’t say he was surprised, Phil did warn him. He laughed as Tommy called him a few lovable profanities for getting lost. “Thanks Tommy, missed you too.”

“Well you are!” Tommy grumbled, crossing his arms. The two teens strode down the dirt path towards the center of their town slowly, taking in the suns warm rays on their shoulders. “If you’d have died I would have thrown your body in a pond out of spite.”

“I… how considerate of you?”

“Yeah, you’re welcome. Don’t get lost next time dumbass.”

Ranboo’s mouth quirked sourly at Tommy’s words but he nodded, masking it with a small yawn. 

‘Does that mean… I can count on you getting lost tomorrow?’

“I won’t get lost again,” he mumbled, stealing a glance at the clouds hanging above. They were safer than Tommy’s eyes. 

“Better not,” Tommy quipped, rolling his eyes and shoving Ranboo playfully to the side. “Phil said you got caught in the rain like an idiot.”

Ranboo shot Tommy a questionable look. “He called me that did he?”

“Well no, that part was me. You are one though, especially if you did get caught in the rain.”

Ranboo shook his head as the two entered one of the main squares of the town. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you say Tommy. Phil also said you almost came after me as well.”

Tommy’s face scrunched up and he shook his head profusely. “No, no, no, no, listen here Ranboo, I did no such thing. Don’t listen to that old bastard.” Ranboo just laughed as Tommy frowned and crossed his arms like an upset child. “Glad you’re okay,” Tommy scoffed, though Ranboo knew the boy meant what he said.

“Me too. Glad I could find my way home again.”

“If you hadn’t I would have dragged you’re ass out of those trees myself!”

“Thanks.”

“Never said I’d drag you out alive.”

“Oh-“

“Oi! Tommy!”

The boys spun around in unison to face the voice calling out. Ranboo shielded his eyes from the sun as he squinted and recognized Wilbur trotting down the path to reach them. He wore a loose cut white shirt with its sleeves cuffed at his elbows, faded dark jeans, and a tired expression covering his features. He offered a quick smile at Ranboo, avoiding the others eyes, before looking to Tommy.

“Taking a stroll are we eh?” He asked, resting his hands on his hips. He sounded ever so slightly out of breath and Ranboo wondered how long he’d been searching for the pair. 

“Yeah, so what?” Tommy responded, copying Wilbur and putting his hand on his hips defensively. 

“Really Tommy?”

“What? What do you want from me dickhead?”

Wilbur rolled his eyes and sighed softly. “You were supposed to help me with the horses, prick,” he jeered, mimicking Tommy’s tone. “Techno’s left and Phil’s told me we’ve got to do it. Says we’ve got to work together and be a team or some bullshit to get out of doing it himself.”

“Oh well, Wilbur, my friend, who’s like a brother to me-“

“We are brothers shitface, I wish we weren’t so I could drown you and not disappoint Phil.”

“CAN YOU SHUT UP FOR ONE MINUTE!”

Ranboo failed at concealing a laugh and earned a jab to the ribs from Tommy and a smile from Wilbur. 

“As I was saying, bitch, I’m a little busy if you don’t mind, so kindly fuck off. Ranboob and I were having a lovely chat before you rudely interrupted.”

Ranboo shot Tommy a look which he promptly ignored. Rolling his eyes, Ranboo kicked a small rock away from him with a sigh. He was a bit restless, standing with the two brothers bickering. He had the urge to move, the urge to run; to run straight into the woods. When he looked up at the sky he could see the sun carving it’s path in the sky, every second it growing closer to noon. He looked back to Tommy and Wilbur and bit the inside of his cheek. 

He didn’t want to leave them. 

He didn’t want to stay.

Wilbur sighed, crossing his arms. He looked to Ranboo with an expression that could only be in response to Tommy’s brotherly nature and Ranboo offered a soft smile in response. “Tommy, Phil says if you don’t help he’s throwing away those stupids discs you love so much.”

Tommy’s face brightened as his mouth fell open and he gaped at Wilbur who just smirked. “What the fuck?! No he will not, you’re lying.”

“Come see for yourself,” Wilbur laughed, tugging on one of his sleeves. He shook his head as Tommy grumbled and turned to Ranboo.

“Sorry to steal him away from your… walk. Duty calls, as they say.”

Ranboo nodded, rocking back onto his heels. “It’s no big deal,” he said, his hands wringing in his pockets nervously. He felt like he’d just lied over and over to his friend’s faces. The more he thought of it, the more sick his stomach began to feel.

“You’re not going to make me clean up the horse shit are you?” Tommy whined.

Wilbur grinned, and clapped Tommy on the shoulder. “Yup!”

“Awwww fuck,” Tommy groaned, drawing out the syllables in his words as his head fell back in defeat. “This is no fair!”

“It is,” Wilbur said. “It’s very fair. It’s what you get for not doing shit yesterday.”

“It was raining! I was… well, Ranboo wasn’t doing anything either!”

“He was lost in the woods?”

Tommy turned to Ranboo. “Fuck you.”

“Tommy!”

“Hey! Rude!”

“That’s what you get for leaving me to look for your dumbass!” Tommy huffed and crossed his arms tightly to his chest. “Fucking prick,” he grumbled.

“Toms, stop being a little bitch and come help. And apologize to Ranboo, that was uncalled for. The guy could have died.”

“Sorry Ranboo.”

“You’re forgiven.”

Wilbur shook his head in disappointment and grabbed Tommy by the shoulder, pulling him to his side. “Sorry Ranboo. Glad you’re back and safe. We’ll catch you later, yeah?”

“Yeah! I’ll be… around.”

Wilbur smiled. Ranboo felt guilting smiling back. “Oh! That’s right, I almost forgot,” Wilbur exclaimed suddenly. “Phil asked if you’d want to have dinner with the lot of us tonight? He’s making something other than porridge, thank fuck.”

Ranboo’s ears twitched and he brought his eyes to look between Tommy and Wilbur, searching their shirts for a reason he couldn’t come. He didn’t know how long he’d be in the woods and if he was being honest with himself, getting legitimately lost again was still very possible. His poor sense of direction wasn’t much help. He blinked a few times before stammering out an answer. “Uh… I can… umm… yeah, yeah, I guess I can make it.”

Wilbur’s face lit up. Tommy’s misery was cut a short a bit at the agreement. Ranboo only felt worse and worse as the minutes ticked on.

“Great! I’ll let Phil know!”

Ranboo shifted his weight from foot to foot as he nodded, flooded with regret. “Cool, yeah… I uh… I’ll see you guys later then?”

“Yup! Come by around dusk and we’ll have dinner all ready,” Wilbur replied, ruffling Tommy’s hair. He hushed the boy as he spewed out a range of profanities and apologized to Ranboo again through a laugh. “Come on Tommy, we’ve got work to do.”

Tommy rolled his eyes and sighed, giving a begrudging look to Ranboo before beginning to walk away, trailing behind Wilbur. “Bye Ranboo.”

“Bye.” Ranbo’s voice was hardly a squeak as he watched the pair walk up and over the hill away from him. He let out a raggedy breath, raking a hand shakily through his hair as he watched the hill closely in case Tommy came running back down it at any second. When no such figure appeared, he took a single deep breath and turned towards the woods. 

It was time.

Chapter Text

High noon arrived as swiftly as Ranboo clambered through the woods towards the small clearing where he’d meet Tubbo. His heart raced in his chest, but not from his pace. His chest pounded with nerves and excitement bundled tightly together, his wired a bit crossed. He couldn’t distinguish anxiety from anticipation, but he didn’t really care. His feet couldn’t carry him fast enough to the field, so he figured the feeling couldn’t be all bad.

He’d since swallowed the guilt of leaving Tommy and Wilbur behind. He figured, he hadn’t really left them at all; they were busy, they had things to do. He just hoped that no one would notice he was gone. If he kept this up, he wasn’t sure how long he’d last until someone found out he was missing.

He was out of breath by the time he stumbled into the clearing, nearly tripping on a large ragged stone as he slowed. He caught himself on a stray tree a bit away from the surrounding clusters and clung to the branch for stability as he caught his breath and looked around.

He looked around and quickly spotted the old fallen tree a few dozen feet away, down a small hill and nestled between a few rocks. As he squinted, his eyes caught on the faint blue shimmer of the border splitting the field in half. It looked so faint and wavered in and out of visibility so much to the point that Ranboo had to assure himself he wasn’t simply imagining it. It seemed to sway in the wind and shine more iridescent in the bright mid-day sunlight, but cast no reflection or shadow. It was almost invisible. He figured you’d likely only notice it if you were looking for it, if you looked at it in the perfect angle to catch a glimpse of the ripple in the sky.

Hearing a twig snap, Ranboo drew his attention back to the log, his eyes locking onto a bundle of brown hair and a flash of gold. He quickly made his way down the hill, almost falling again before coming face to face with Tubbo who was sat on a rock right pressed against the border. He let out a laugh as Ranboo slid down towards him, a little wobbly on his feet.

“Hi,” Ranboo breathed, righting himself and straightening his shirt as he made it to their spot. His eyes immediately found Tubbo’s and he grinned. He couldn’t get over the feeling, the lack of pressure building up in his skull as he made eye contact. It was so mundane, yet so significant.

Tubbo grinned. “Hi.”

Ranboo took in Tubbo’s appearance, quickly noticing something that hadn’t been there the previous day. Tubbo’s hair was much neater than it had been the previous day, rid of the leafs and dirt that came alongside the boy and his mischief. Atop his prestigiously combed hair sat a ring of gold embedded with shining red gemstones; a crown.

To say it threw Ranboo off was a bit of an understatement.

The idea of royalty wasn’t foreign to him. He’d heard tales of kingdoms in sectors much larger than his; how they’d built palaces and courtyards stretching across more land than his entire sector, more unused and empty bedrooms lining their halls than he could explore in a day. He’d heard of humble rulers who lived simply and cautiously, stories of kings who lived above their people and the rest of the world as if their beds laid in Olympus.

His sector had always been far too small for a kingdom; they hardly had enough land for their farms, let alone a castle to encompass a king. They were small, close knit and there was hardly any conflict. It felt safe to know everyone’s name around him, to look and only see familiar faces surrounding him. They governed themselves. They hadn’t seen war in years, decades even. What need was there for a king?

Ranboo blinked as he realized he’d been zoned out and Tubbo was trying to regain his attention. He shook the daze away softly and looked away from the crown on Tubbo’s head. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you found your way home last night?” Tubbo repeated with a laugh.

“Oh! Uh… yeah, I did. It took me a while to figure out where I was, but I made it.”

“Good, good,” Tubbo nodded. “I got back pretty quick too. Like I predicted, both my siblings about killed me for being gone so long.” Tubbo’s face scrunched up and he scoffed playfully.

Ranboo smiled and his left ear twitched just slightly. “You haven’t told me about your siblings. What are they like?”

Tubbo sighed a bit. “Their names are Niki and Eret,” he hummed, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re alright I guess, as alright as siblings can be, you know? I’m the youngest so… they tend to be a bit overbearing. And… I’m not exactly the most compliant or well behaved, if you haven’t noticed… I did sneak off to get here.” He paused, pressing his lips together and chuckling to himself a bit before continuing. “Niki’s always lecturing me about being safe and not getting into trouble. Eret’s always reminding me that I’m…” he paused, tasting his words a bit before letting them spill out. “…royalty. And that I need to act like it.”

Ranboo’s eyes flicked back up to the crown and it’s jewels. He took a seat on the ground, pulling his legs in closer to him. “Is that why you’re wearing the crown?” he asked. He searched Tubbo’s eyes for a sign that he’d crossed the line, anticipating Tubbo to conceal his private life; he felt like he was being invasive by asking questions.

Tubbo looked up through his hair as if he could see the crown placed on his own head. “Oh shit, I totally forgot I was wearing it,” he mumbled. “Yet another thing Eret likes to get on me about.” The crown slipped a bit as Tubbo dropped his gaze suddenly; the gold rested against his horns.

Ranboo nodded, unsure of what to say next. He wanted to know more, but he didn’t want to pry. “It’s cool,” he finally commented. “I like the jewels.”

Tubbo huffed, blowing a stray piece of hair out of his eyes in frustration. He took the crown off his messy curls, flipping it around to look at it. His eyes gleamed with a half-hearted hatred as he stared at the red encrusted jewels, staring himself down through the reflection. “Yeah, I guess,” he muttered. “I wasn’t wearing the damn thing yesterday because I hate it.” His thumb wiped across the surface of the gems roughly as if he could scrub away his faint reflection. “It rubs on my horns when I wear it for too long or it moves, and it always falls off. I get scolded if it falls… apparently I’ve broken too many of the fucking things.” Tubbo laid the crown down into the plush grass and pulled his legs in closer to himself. “It sucks,” he huffed, tucking his chin around his folded arms. “I…I hate walking through town and everyone treating me like I’m royalty.”

Ranboo’s head tilted slightly to the side as he gazed at the crown and then back at Tubbo questioningly. “But… you are royalty?”

“I know!” Tubbo sighed and ran a hand through his tangly hair, tugging on it a bit as his fingers caught. “I know, I couldn’t forget it if I tried. Everyone back home makes sure of that.” He turned back towards the sky, picking absentmindedly at the grass below him. His face twisted into a soft frown. “I should be grateful,” he spoke, his voice hardly above a whisper. “There are so many other people, other sectors who have so much less. I just…”

Ranboo wished he could stick his hand through the barrier and grasp Tubbo’s, if not to comfort the other, to comfort himself. To tether himself to the earth. He felt a little loss at the words. Tubbo’s world and his were vastly different, far too different for him to wrap his head around. He wished there was nothing separating them, nothing dividing their worlds and making their lives so immensely different.

“I just wish I could sit out here without without feeling guilty.”

Ranboo’s hands tugged at the cuffs of his jeans a bit, pulling out a loose string and disposing of it in the grass lazily. His nails ran across the thick material anxiously as he searched for an answer. “I… if being out here makes you feel worse then-“

“No, no, you don’t understand,” Tubbo interrupted gently. “You’re my break. You’re… you’re exactly what I escape for, why I got lost in the first place. I know we just met like… yesterday, but… I don’t think I could ever get sick of your company. At the same time, being here… it feels like I’m a traitor to my own kind.”

Above their heads, a small bird cawed, flying above their heads and joining a small flock in the sky. Ranboo’s mouth twisted into a faint smile even with as strange as he felt. The feathers reminded him of Phil. He wondered what Phil would say in this moment. He seemed to always know what to say.

“But it shouldn’t be!” Tubbo continued. “You’re no enemy, I mean, I hate to break it to you man, but as far as I’m concerned, you wouldn’t last a day in war.”

Ranboo rolled his eyes but nodded, leaning back on his hands. “Yeah, I know. I probably wouldn’t.”

Tubbo cracked a smile. Brushing his hair further out of his eyes, he sighed. “It shouldn’t be like this.”

Ranboo nodded in agreement, searching for the silhouette of the long gone birds above. “It shouldn’t. It’s like we’re living in the same world, but we’re not... everything’s so different.”

A small silence draped over the two for a few moments, the only sound being the billowing of the leafs across the forest floor. Tubbo smiled all the sudden, turning to look at Ranboo who sat up in anticipation. “We’re like Romeo and Juliet or some shit,” he giggled.

Ranboo gave him a weird look as Tubbo burst out laughing. “Oh yeah? You think so? Who’s the Romeo and who’s the Juliet then?”

“Hmm…” Tubbo hummed, his smirk growing. “I’m definitely Romeo.”

“Why am I Juliet?” Ranboo laughed.

“I dunno, you give me those vibes.”

“Those vibes?”

“Yup!”

Ranboo shook his head but smiled all the same. He saw no point in arguing. “So what, we’re like the friend version of Romeo and Juliet?”

“Isn’t there a word for that?”

“Word for what?”

“A word for like… a relationship that’s not romantic? Unless you’d like me to turn up the romance.” Tubbo wiggled his eyebrows and Ranboo just rolled his eyes and laughed. “There’s definitely a word for it,” Tubbo continued.

Ranboo’s nose twitched as he though. He wracked his brain for the word, but nothing but ‘friendship’ came to mind. “Uh… all I can think of is friendship. My vocabulary isn’t the greatest.”

“I feel like… there’s a word for it… fuck, what is it? Oh! Oh! I remember! It’s platonic! We’re platonic Romeo and Juliet!”

“I’ve never heard that word before, but okay!”

Tubbo grinned. “This means we’ve gotta like… get married to spite our families or something,” Tubbo announced.

“Get married? We met yesterday Tubbo, I’m not sure that kind of commitment is the right move.”

“What do you mean? It totally is.”

“Okay, sure,” Ranboo chuckled. “We’ll get married. Who proposed?”

“Oh definitely not me.”

“Oh now why not? You seem like the type to prepose.”

“Oh surely not! You definitely proposed.”

“Why?”

Tubbo gave Ranboo a dirty glance and shook his head. “Here, we’ll flip a coin,” he hummed, digging his hand into the pocket of his jacket. Out he pulled a shiny, golden coin engraved with a small crown, the same crown that had been embroidered on the corner of the cloth Tubbo had given him yesterday. He balanced the coin on his finger steadily and without looking up, spoke. “Heads or tails?”

“Heads.”

Tubbo flicked the coin upwards into the air. Both the teen’s eyes followed the coin as it spun in the air before Tubbo caught it and placed it on the back of his hand. “Tails,” he grinned looking at the coin and then up to Ranboo’s eyes. “You totally proposed to me.”

Ranboo rolled his eyes. “Okay fine, I proposed,” he laughed. He tilted his head to the side, watching as Tubbo ran the coin through his fingers and then slid it back into his pocket.

“It’s weird that we’re… married, I guess, but can’t exactly…” Ranboo stopped himself, considering whether or mot his words were tasteful or if they’d do more harm than good.

Tubbo seemed to read his mind as he put his hand up to the barrier. “We’re can’t even get near each other,” he finished in a breath.

“Yeah. It kinda sucks.”

“It definitely sucks.”

Tubbo blew air from his cheeks and rubbed his horns a bit as he leaned back to look up at the sky. “It’s a much nicer day than it was yesterday,” he hummed.

Ranboo craned his neck to follow Tubbo’s gaze and hummed in agreement. “Much nicer,” he agreed. “I’m not melting this time.”

“Yeah, that’s good. Melting would have kinda been a dick move to be fair.”

“What do you mean? I can’t help it!”

Tubbo giggled, his chest shaking as he sucked in a breath as Ranboo joined him in laughter.

The two sat in the grass for hours that afternoon, basked in sunlight and friendship, enjoying each other’s company more than they thought they could with another soul. By the time the sun began to set in the sky, Ranboo had nearly forgotten about his promise to attend dinner that night. He hurriedly told Tubbo a heartfelt goodbye, double checked he had all this things, and set out for home.

He left that clearing that evening with the sun setting past his shoulders and a promise to return the next day. He found his way twice as fast as he had before, but the sun still beat him over the horizon. His memory book felt heavy in his pocket and burnt with the need to fill the pages. He knew even with as much as he itched to stop and pull out his quill and ink, it would have to wait.

He had a dinner to attend.