Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Tubbo Underscore,” the brown haired angelic warrior dipped his head, the Angelic Council seated above him in their thrones. The Eldest leaned themselves forwards, a sharp look within their eyes, “You have been summoned before the Eldest and younger to be assigned your final task before the consideration of your favor.” All three pairs of Tubbo’s wings were tucked inwards, in respect at the very least. Even if he didn’t very well agree with the rulings and decisions of the Angelic Council, to even get his favor considered he would have to adhere to their rules. 

The Eldest sent him an unreadable look before leaning back and pulling forth a scroll, the one that most likely either held Tubbo’s favor or his final task. Unrolling the scroll, The Eldest cleared their throat once more, “As per tradition of Angelic Ruling, each Angel can earn one favor based on their actions in previous lifes, and tasks performed for the Angelic Council. At the moment, Tubbo Underscore’s favor is deemed towards the restoration of the Fallen Angelic Warrior Tommy Innit’s power as an Angelic Warrior, and of the Fallen’s restoration into Holy Angel ranks. Is this correct, Tubbo Underscore?”

Tubbo shuffled his wings nervously, before standing and nodding widely. The Youngest turned towards Tubbo, pulling out a different scroll, this one wider than the others. Stiffening his posture, Tubbo kept his head up. This was most definitely the task assigned to his final venture. The Youngest looked towards Tubbo, judgemental as all Council members were, but just shook it’s head and looked back towards the task, “Tubbo Underscore, as your final task, you are assigned the hardest task among Angelic Warriors. All before you have failed, and in the process, either Fallen or have been reinstated. Would you like to hear about the task?” 

There was an air of importance to the room, heavily weighing upon Tubbo’s shoulders. It felt as if he was meant to carry the world, with the Council yelling insults into his ears at every chance. Taking a deep breath, Tubbo pressed his fingers against his visor before nodding fervently. The Youngest nodded back, turning to the parchment scroll, “Tubbo Underscore, you are tasked to travel to the Overworld, now narrowed down to L’Manberg province within the Essempi territory. Within this territory, you are urged to search for a hybrid who has escaped Council grasp for almost a century. Take heed, that there may be others protecting the hybrid that the council can not account for. Does Tubbo Underscore understand?”

Supposedly, Tubbo was just supposed to accept the task without question. But how could legions of Angelic Warriors fail to catch a simple hybrid? And it didn’t make sense either for the council to be adhering to catching hybrids, the children of Angels and Overworld-dwellers was supposed to be allowed within council ruling. Tubbo straightened his posture, as he had begun to gain a small slouch, and rolled his wings back, “I do have an inquiry, if I may be allowed an answer.” The Youngest shared a look with the Middle and the Eldest before the Eldest conceded with a nod. That was a first.

Subtly shaking the thought from his head, Tubbo took a deep breath, “What type of hybrid am I searching for? I thought that Angelic-Overworlder children were allowed within your graces ruling.” The question was tame enough, the council wouldn’t go out of their way to search for Demonic or Devil hybrids either, it would take too much work to question every Overworlder on if one of their parents just so happened to be native to the Underworld. No sense at all. 

The Council didn’t seem to be upset by the question as well, at the very least. The Middle leaned forwards, sharing a look with aether’s council members. The Middle turned to Tubbo with a snide look, “The hybrid, though this is meant to be kept secret, is an Angelic Devil child. This is against the treaties between the Aetherial and the Underworld, if you can remember from your training.” Tubbo’s mouth tasted metallic as he looked towards the Council. Angels and any Aetherial dwellers were not supposed to interact with Underworld dwellers, especially if it elicited a relationship like this. That was one of the reasons Tommy had almost fallen in the first place. This must’ve been to prove that Tubbo would not fall to the same thoughts that Tommy had.

Collapsing into a deep salute, Tubbo flared his wings out as he crowed out, “Let The Council see fit to allow I, Tubbo Underscore, to undertake my final task for the consideration of a favor. On The Council’s behalf, I shall journey to the Overworld and beseech the being that is regarded by the council as an Angelic Devil hybrid.” Each Angelic Council member stood, their wings flaring outwards as the Eldest’s voice rang throughout the chamber, “The Council allows for Tubbo Underscore to adhere, under their judgement and jurisdiction, the hunt of the Angelic-Devil child that resides on the L’manberg Province of the Overworld Territory of Essempi. Tubbo Underscore is dismissed by the Council.”

Tubbo stood from his salute, departing the Council hall as quickly as possible. Soon enough the Council would most likely call in the next warrior, or the curious peasant but that didn’t matter. What mattered was bringing the good news to his bedridden friend. Spreading all six of his wings, he removed his visor from his head and launched into the air with an ecstatic yell. He could finally get help for Tommy hopefully, with the encroaching fear of his friend Falling on his brain, he sped up his pace. Their housing was close to the Council Chambers luckily, so he just had to fly about 2 kilometers and then just dive to arrive at the housing. The white and red house was originally acclaimed by Tommy, and when Tubbo had entered a partnership with him through the Angelic Warriors, he soon moved in and lived with the blond angel. 

Nudging the door open with his foot, Tubbo nervously poked his head inside and shook his wings out. He couldn’t hear the usual jubilant cheering that he could associate with his best friend, so fear etched it’s way from his heart to his throat. At the very least, he wanted to be able to say goodbye to Tommy before he left, so hopefully he was just sleeping and hadn’t attempted to escape again. Moving swiftly through the shared home, he reached the room that used to be Tommy’s main abode before the boy left for the task that would be his downfall.

Carefully opening the door, Tubbo let out a sigh of relief when he saw Tommy lying on the bed, carelessly passed out. Walking over to his friend’s bed, Tubbo stopped and looked at the teen’s four wings. Two of them had concerningly dark and patchy feathers, while the larger two were still pristenly opaque and held the familiar rings that signified him as an Angelic Warrior. It seemed the creaking of the door startled Tommy awake, as when Tubbo’s gaze reached his head, Tommy was staring back with electric blue eyes and constricted pupils.

Resisting a flinch at the gaze, Tubbo gave Tommy a soft smile, “Hey Tommy, guess what.” There was a tense silence between the two as Tommy critically studied Tubbo, before bracing himself on his elbows, “You went to the Council?” Tubbo nodded restlessly, he couldn’t wait to tell Tommy the news at this point, “And guess what? I got my final task! It’s this stupidly easy task y’know, catching some hybrid Angelic-Devil I guess. I mean, really, I don’t see why anyone hasn’t found them yet. They should stick out like a sore thumb, right?” Tubbo missed the way Tommy minutely flinched, as if even the mention of the hybrid brought him back to Falling. 

Tommy’s hands were moving a mile a minute, causing Tubbo to scramble to the drawers and grab one of the fidgets from within. Sticking it quickly within the other teen’s hands, Tubbo leaned back and watched Tommy smile nostalgically at it. Sighing, Tommy shook his head with a small grin, “That’s great, Tubbo. That you got the last task before the consideration. Just, be safe alright? The overworld can be dangerous and persuasive. I know that all too well.” With an air of grace and guilt, Tommy looked back towards his mangled secondary wings, while Tubbo frowned grimly. He wanted to wipe that guilty face off of Tommy’s face. It wasn’t his fault that he-who-should not be named had Fallen and lived in the exact same place that Tommy was assigned. 

Tubbo nudged Tommy’s shoulder gently, “Come on, Tommy. It’s not like it’s goodbye forever! I’ll be down and back, that hybrid can’t be too hard to beseech. It’s not like they’re gonna be at Schlatt level of hiding, I mean unless they have so many allies that can somehow hide them from a Seer Warrior. And what Fallen’s or Underworlders would ever do that?”

As it turns out, everything would be harder than it seems. 

Chapter Text

Silence was no familiar customer in the humble shop on the corner, named RanOnCaffeine, even as the birds chirped out early that morning. Even if it was just a simple beat, echoing across the nearby alleyways, or even across the street to the butcher shop, the surrounding area was not unfamiliar to the sound either. Though there was little chatter in the area, what with the time being ass-crack dawn, the owner of the quaint shop had already begun his morning routine.


Ranboo stretched outwards, leaning a bit as he did. Living on top of his shop was always nice, but he had to ensure that he was up early enough to start production of any pastries, and to check for deliveries from his supplier. Slipping on his tennis shoes, he waltzed down the stairwell, trying not to trip on the suspiciously loose floorboards near the end. Landing with a small flourish, he dusted his jeans and poked his head out the back door. To his luck, just by the industrial metal door, sat a nicely sized package with a pretty pastel ribbon tied upon it.

Tugging it inside, he let the music surround him and flush the fear that entered his head if there was too much quiet. The small ponytail on his head bumped to the beat as he grinned at the package. Neatly tucked beneath the ribbon was a gorgeously decorated card that read, “Ranboo! I know you said you were in need of more dough, so I made some and a little more! Just let me know if you need any recipes or pastry utensils ~ Niki <3.” Tucking the small card into his pants pocket, Ranboo hooked his fingers under the ribbon and untied it as neatly as he could.

As expected, he eventually needed to get scissors and cut it. He was not exactly the most gentle person with ribbon. It just felt too weird under his fingers, he was not going to put that much effort into messing with it. Using the scissors, he sliced the taping on the package and was greeted with the neutral scent of freshly produced dough. Taking his phone from his pocket gently, he flicked it open and switched his playlist from his “Morning, Wake Up,” playlist to his, “Get to Work, lazy-butt” playlist. A more upbeat tone began, and he got to work.


His coffee shop opened at around 7 am, but he had to ensure that pastries were ready and everything was properly in place to even operate the place. So for an hour and a half, he ran around the kitchen and adjacent areas trying to make sure everything was correct. At the same time, his familiar (who had been gifted to him by a witch who was one of his first customers), a black cat named Enderchest, weaved effortlessly between his legs and meowed if she spotted anything off. Gripping his face, Ranboo shook himself out as the clock ticked onwards in the background. The day would start soon enough, even if he didn’t want it to.

Squaring his shoulders, he gripped the last tray of pastries and leaned down to set them into the display just as the bell above the door rang. Wiping crumbs on his apron, Ranboo looked up only to be greeted by a jumpy five year old and their all-too-tired parent. Leaning against the class counter, Ranboo smiled, “Hello Michael, hello Lyrelia.” The younger piglin squealed in excitement at the recognition while the older stepped nervously from hoof to hoof, “I’m glad to see you open again, Ranboo. Can you get us the usual?”


Ranboo nodded, dipping down and grabbing two cheese danishes and setting them in a bag. Sweeping into the coffee area, he quickly brewed his signature Piebald Mocha, before setting all three onto the countertop. Waiting for the adult piglin to fetch their wallet, Ranboo sighed, “I’m glad I can be open again,” the bell rang somewhere off by the front, but Ranboo didn’t notice, “Those angels that swept through L’manburg the other day really did some damage. I didn’t even have the courage to confront them about damage costs, though I doubt they wouldn’t have spouted some stupid manure about being grateful for being alive. Like people always say they end up doing.”


Lyrelia shrugged, handing the teen a twenty, “Keep the change, hun. You need it.” Carefully, Ranboo took the dollar bill and stared between it and the family of two. Michael squealed in alarm at the distressed look tried to reach for Ranboo, eliciting the long-haired teen to reach a single gloved hand out. Michael patted it a couple of times, not exactly engaging in grabbing it, before he was pulled back by Lyrelia. Waving at the family of two, Ranboo set the twenty into the register before turning to the next customer.


Stumbling a bit, Ranboo clutched at his chest, “Jesus, Phil. Maybe reign in the wings for me, so that I don’t get another heart attack.” The blonde across the counter only chuckled, but willingly brought his grayish wings inwards. Ranboo had never questioned him about the difference between his wings and the occasional angel he saw skirting the area for whatever reason. He picked gently at his nails as Philza scanned the menu board. There was a comfortable loss of words between the two as some random lo-fi beat echoed through the speakers in the shop.

Phil broke the silence, rapping his knuckles against the countertop, “I’ll have a white chocolate mint latte, three warm cheese danishes, and a cherry jelly tart.” Scrambling from his laxed position, Ranboo tugged the danishes and tart from the pastry display, setting the three danishes into the toaster before turning to his coffee area. It was a familiar sort of monotony that Ranboo was all too happy to fall back into. He had been stranded without a job for a few weeks after the weird encounter with the angels, but he was just glad to be back.

Sweeping his hands forwards, Ranboo placed the order on the counter. “I heard what you said about the angels,” Ranboo’s grey eyes darted towards Phil’s blue as the man skimmed his wallet, “I wasn’t surprised by what I heard though. All angels seem to have that egotistical sense to them.” Confused, Ranboo’s brows furrowed together, “Sorry, I know this might be personal and we just met a month ago, but Phil aren’t you an angel?”

There was a tense moment, as Phil looked up towards Ranboo without speaking, before he shrugged and looked back at his wallet, “I mean, by technicality? Yes. Have you ever heard of a Fallen, Ranboo?” Ranboo quietly took the money from Phil, tucking it into the register. Peeling the man’s change from the tray, Ranboo huffed, “Briefly, in school. When I still attended. They’re angels that went against the council’s rulings and were basically dismissed from the Aetherial, right?” 

Phill nodded, taking the change gently. Ranboo fidgeted his hands back, avoiding the contact (even between two gloved hands) as much as possible. The straw haired man across from him just shook his head, “You are partially correct. The council is kinda flippant on their rulings, they don’t really care for the individual angel. I fell because I was in love, to shorten the story. So my powers are cancelled out, and all I can do is fly with these discolored wings.” Ranboo nodded, watching the man grab his goods, “Stay safe, Phil!” The gray-winged man tipped his hat towards the teen, the jingling of the bell signalling his departure. 

The rest of the day was mostly uneventful, just the occasional rude or stuck-up customer interrupting the flow of capitalism. Oh, how Ranboo wished that maybe, for once, there would be an interesting customer. Occasionally, his usuals would come in, and at least then he could make idle conversation while brewing their orders, but it was quite rare. Maybe he could try getting into contact with Quackity again and getting a radio call-out about his shop re-opening. 

Carefully locking up the glass front door, Ranboo stared out the front windows for a moment, before turning to wander further into the shop. Running his hands nervously through his hair, he jumped at a large bang near the right wall of the shop. Heaving a nervous breath, Ranboo shuffled towards the alleyway door, and peaked outwards. Any preparations he could’ve done before, well they all flew out the door when he saw the brown-haired angel that was slammed against the wall.

Loosely, he could recognize the demon that stalked some distance ahead, murmuring unintelligible curses towards said angel, but that didn’t matter. Ranboo, trying to muster anything of a backbone, stepped outside with trembling hands. “Um,” his throat caught on his words as the demon’s lamp-like eyes almost directly matched his heterochromatic ones. Taking a deep breath, Ranboo shoved his trembling hands behind him, “Th-th-they’re already down, maybe you should stop being a coward and t-t-take it somewhere else?” That definitely did not come out as confidently as he had wanted it to.

The snake-like demon’s tail rattled, and it darted towards Ranboo, trapping him with an arm between him and the door, “And why would I do that?” Something clattered at the entrance to the alleyway, tearing the demon’s gaze off of Ranboo. The teen stiffened, too afraid to open his eyes and look to the alley entrance. A familiar voice drifted through the alley, “I would listen to the kid, Sol. Or else you’ll be dealing with me and Kristen, mate.” 

Sol paused, and Ranboo looked over to meet eyes with Phil, before abruptly removing his gaze. Hissing sounded in his ears, but slowly decreased as the naga demon backed out of the alleyway. Phil waltzed his way over towards Ranboo, looking up at the tall teen, “Hey, mate. What’re you doing out here this late? You know it’s dangerous, right?” Ranboo shook out his limbs, trying to dismiss the freezing feeling his fear had left behind. Rubbing the back off his neck, Ranboo motioned with his foot towards the brown-haired angel that still lay prone and unconscious against the wall, “I didn’t want to let that demon kill them. Didn’t feel right.”

Phil muttered something in a language Ranboo couldn’t recognize, before crouching before the angel, “Right. Of course you couldn’t, a good-hearted kid like you could never. Here, I’ll help you get him inside, I doubt you’re in well-enough state to lift him inside.” The older man’s arms swooped under the brown-haired angel, carrying him in a bridal hold as Ranboo shuffled behind him inside. 

Staring at the angel laying on his kitchen island, all Ranboo could hope was that the figure didn’t wake him up with screaming. And that he was there when they woke up. 

Chapter Text

As usual, Ranboo’s sleep was plagued with nightmares. He didn’t know when he had fallen asleep, the small hope in his head that he was still at the kitchen counter rang, but he could almost recognize the seeping cold of his nightmare scape. Avoiding opening his eyes to the subsequent inky darkness around him, Ranboo sighed with a roll of his shoulders. Trying to sway his anxiety, Ranboo picked at his incorporeal nails, “What will you show me this time? Vague flashes of death? Angels charging me with the intent to kill?”

A feeling pierced his stomach, and he knew then that it was time. Carefully, he allowed his eyes to open, greeted by a familiar black landscape. This time, to decorate with color, orange lilies sprouted from the occasional cranny. Moving to his feet, Ranboo stumbled towards one. His fingers dragged gently against the velvety petals, the flower seemed to melt into his grasp. Resisting the urge to gasp, Ranboo tugged his hand away as if he had been burned. Shaking at the liquified flower, Ranboo stepped away from the lilies. Each sprout had now begun to melt, and the lava-like consistency that spread along the ground seemed to chase his feet. 

He stumbled, catching his heels together, then twisted and fell backwards. The melted flowers reached his feet, but no feeling came from it as they washed over him. Screwing his eyes shut, Ranboo resisted the urge to shudder in disgust at the velvety liquid. Liquids shouldn’t be described as velvety. When the feeling had disappeared, Ranboo opened his eyes once more. Instead of the familiar nightmarish darkness, he was now sitting in a living room. A crackling hearth was the only sound he could make out, eyes roving it carefully. There, along the mantle, sat a vase half-full of liquid and flowers.

From what he could understand, the flowers within were a mixture of three. White and pink orchids, lilacs, and warm colored zinnias. There seemed to be a common theme within his nightmares, which usually meant the flowers were representing something. Ranboo tried reflecting on what they meant, but blanks came up, as if all the info he knew had been sapped from him before he fell asleep.  Tearing his thoughts from the flowers, Ranboo began to study the rest of the area. It was a stereotypical living room, at least from what TV had taught him. A wide leather couch sat snugly against a wall beneath a window that gave sight to a familiar black horizon. To each side of the couch sat two arm chairs, and a long ottoman rested before it. 

Books stacked high on the ottoman, Ranboo tried to move closer to see them. Instead, it felt like his feet had been glued to the ground, preventing him from moving. Before he could look to his, more than likely, incorporeal feet, a noise trapped his attention. Whipping his head around, he noticed a door a few feet behind one of the arm chairs had been propped open slightly. No breeze came from within, meaning the door just lead further into the supposed house. The creak of the door had ceased by the time Ranboo looked over, but something else replaced it.

The hearty giggle of a child came from the doorway, and it didn’t take long for the source to follow it. A small child (he estimated around 4 or less feet tall), was holding onto something (someone?) and tugging quite hard. They had messy dual-colored hair, which elicited Ranboo to touch his own. Their eyes, however, were a vivid purple that reminded him of the lilacs on the mantle of the fireplace across the room. Sprouting from the child’s forehead were four small horns that Ranboo often saw on demons and other underworldling children. What stumped him however, were the four feathery wings on the child’s back. 

As if the mental scape refused to give Ranboo any answers, his attention was torn from the child to the target they were tugging at, which happened to be a rather tall woman. She followed closely behind the child, keeping her hand wrapped solemnly around theirs. Sharp nails adorned her hands, and a curled pair of horns pierced the waves of her hair. Draconic, leathery wings burst from her back, and a spade-tipped tail swayed behind her, a secondary, club-tipped tail joining it. Her voice was reverberated as she cooed something to the child, almost completely ignoring Ranboo as the two walked to the fireplace.

The child, however, stared straight at Ranboo once the two sat on two embroidered blankets before it. There was no sound from them but with a motion of their hands, Ranboo was able to walk forwards. Carefully, he plucked his way towards the blanket and sat on the other side of the child, trusting his gut in this moment. A solemn silence followed, the sound of the woman’s voice muted as she continued to warble on. The quiet lasted a moment longer before the child turned to look at Ranboo, “She loved me dearly y’know.” Their voice was reverberated as well, but in a creepier way than the woman’s was.

Stiffening, Ranboo sighed and glanced at the child, “Did she?” Simpering, the child nodded, “Yes. Do you know what she did though?” Shaking his head, Ranboo let his gaze fall to the child’s. Curiously, the contact did not create a familiar fuzziness within his head, instead it felt soothing. At least, until the child spoke again.

“She abandoned you, ⏃⋏☌⟒⌰ ⌿⍀⟟⋏☊⟒ ⍜⎎ ⊑⟒⌰⌰ .” 

It didn’t take long for Ranboo to start hyperventilating, causing his eyes to snap shut. The now-cold crackle of the fireplace disappeared as Ranboo gripped his head tight. Although he didn’t understand the last few words, the implication of the usage of “you” terrified him even more. Before long, Ranboo’s eyes opened up and his hearing returned. Someone was screaming, but as Ranboo took in a familiar kitchen, he realized it was his own voice screeching out.

Something warm grabbed his gloved hands, seeping calming thrums through the air. Attempting to catch his breath, Ranboo silenced his screams and tried to focus on the warmth of the unfamiliar object. Blinking away the fuzziness of his brain, Ranboo finally turned to the direction of the calm aura. What he was greeted with, however, was the angel from the night before. The brunet was awake, staring at him with wide grayish-green eyes. Small wings on their head quivered, and Ranboo was quick to tug his hand from theirs.

Coughing into his glove, he resisted the urge to flush in embarrassment. He hadn’t wanted the angel to wake up screaming, instead Ranboo himself had. How quaint. Turning his attention to his visitor, Ranboo scratched nervously at his palm, “Apologies. I don’t know what came over me.” The angel muttered something when Ranboo paused, which sounded suspiciously like ‘that isn’t normal for you?’ but Ranboo elected to ignore it and continue speaking. 

“Continuing my apologies, I’m sorry to have you wake in an unfamiliar place. Just one question for you, albeit weird, but are you alright?” The brunet angel paused in their muttering, turning instead to face Ranboo. There was a brief beat of silence before they shrugged, “Could be better. It’s not exactly fun to be thrown against a wall, y’know.” Ranboo balked, trying to calm his anxiety at the conversation, “Ah good, you remember what happened up until I arrived. That makes this easier.” Threading his fingers together, Ranboo rested them against his knees, “I found you after you collapsed against the wall and…” a pause returned in the conversation as Ranboo found a hiccup in his story.

Phil had explained to him yesterday about fallen angels, so would it be the best idea to mention one to a still powerful angel? Probably not. Taking the best course of action, Ranboo decided to alter the story a little bit, “A neighbor from one of the other shops helped me chase him off.” Nice save. The angel didn’t look entirely convinced, but Ranboo couldn’t care much more for retelling the story. They didn’t pry however, only running a hand through their hair, “Right, that explains the kitchen then. Uhm, I’m Tubbo. An angel, obviously.”

Ranboo snorted, placing his hand across his face for a moment before letting it fall back to his lap, “Ranboo. The owner of the cafe you’re in.” Tubbo paused, looking around, “What province are we in right now?” That made Ranboo pause in turn and he tried not to scoff at the thought of not knowing what province he was in, “L’Manburg Territory. Was there somewhere you were supposed to be? Some angelic mission or something?” There was a silent, ‘like all of you claim you have’ that Ranboo left off. His adherence towards angels shouldn’t be taken out on this one that probably wasn’t even involved with the ones who wrecked his shop.

Tubbo shrugged unhelpfully, picking at loose feathers on his wings, “Something like that. This is exactly the province I need, so I should take my leave.” He slid himself off the island, making Ranboo realize how much difference there was between their height as they stood toe-to-toe now. Craning his head down, Ranboo resisted the urge to snicker. Thinking better of it, he stepped towards the metal door to the very same alleyway that Tubbo had been found in. Creaking it open, he motioned out of it, “You better be off then. Maybe try stopping by if you get in the mood for pastries?”

The brunet angel stopped in the doorway, his larger two wings curled around his body, “Maybe I will.” And with that, the shop returned to silence as the door slammed shut after the angel. Ranboo was lucky it was Thursday, the only day the cafe was closed. This day was reserved for Ranboo, and for ordering stock for the coming weeks. Stepping back from the door, Ranboo prepared to head upstairs and to his computer, but was stopped by a familiar gut twist. It brought him back to the nightmare he had, in the moments before he had awoken.

He stopped in the doorway to his stairs, trying to settle his uneasy stomach. Dreams never usually meant anything, and even if they did, it was probably just his brain being hopeful. There was nothing that he could do about his memory, it was either just a facade being used to scare him into anxiety by his brain, or a flickering hope that maybe he did have a family. Dismissing the thoughts, he stepped up to his room and nudged the door open.

Everything was as he had left it the night before he found Tubbo, and he gratefully took to his roller chair in front of his computer. Rolling to the tower portion, he pushed the button with a satisfying click, and delighted in the illumination of the monitor against his face. It didn’t take long for the things he needed to be ordered, his tech wizard fingers clicking and clacking as needed. Instead of feeling satisfied like he usually did however, Ranboo was only left with the empty feeling of his thoughts. Trying to avoid thinking to much, Ranboo took to cleaning. Starting with dusting, Ranboo ventured over to his dresser, pausing at the sight of a familiar pendant.

From what he could remember, he always had it, just like he always had this coffee shop. He didn’t want to look at it right now, however, the reminder of his missing memories just filled his stomach with more dread.

He could worry about memories later. For now, he wanted to live in the present. That present meant taking his dirty laundry to the laundromat, since it reeked of body odor.