I am nobody; I have nothing to do with explosions.

@tubbos

art by gynii

18 posts

𝒏𝒐𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆, 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅. / 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒔 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒘 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆 / 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒔 / 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇, 𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒕, 𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔, 𝒂 𝒄𝒖𝒕-𝒑𝒂𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘 / 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒚𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒔 / 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒏𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆, 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒇𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇. / 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒅 𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒔 𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒐𝒙𝒚𝒈𝒆𝒏.

-tulips, sylvia plath

Introduction

this is a c!tubbo roleplay blog run by @theghosttown part of the resetverse! you can find the basic plot of the resetverse here! this verse is a closed rp circle however we have characters that don't have rpers yet, so you can always ask to join! additionally, asks and ocs via asker tags are absolutely permitted! <33 have fun!

hey there big man! How're you enjoying the quiet?

I STSill dont really know ahats happening entirely. TBH.. But I've got Ranboo and Micheal and were going to get thru. Thansk for this ask.

#seasons change as they do [asks]#anonymous

Tub- uh, Mr President! Hey, wait up!

-@ranboounderscorebeloved

[There's an echo in his ears. He gets them often. Little voices from the past, ringing and promising him a future which he never found, beckoning him to regress to the past.]

[His husband is dead. That can't be him, it's just a voice, keep walking, Tubbo. He thinks.]

[He figures it's an echo, at least, until he hears footsteps, crunching in the snow. He turns drawing his axe in case he has to wave off that stupid ghost again, but instead he just sees an all-too familiar face.]

Ranboo?

ranboounderscorebeloved

Mr President!

[Ranboo is about to run up to him, tail wagging, and stand close like he’s so used to doing (it’s only because the President can’t hear very well, that’s the only reason), but he stops short.]

Hey, uh, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! All respect of course- I’m sure you- And that’s not to say that-

[He drops the axe, and for a good minute, only stares. His lips part ever-so-slightly to truly convey his shock, and every emotion he could possibly feel festers in his belly.]

[He is thrilled. Oh gods, he could kiss Ranboo right now.]

[He is pissed. Who brought him back? Why did they wait so long?]

[He is in absolute denial. This can't be right.]

[He wants to sob against Ranboo's chest. He wants to scream. He wants to feel at peace for once.]

[He just stares instead. For just a moment, he moves to reach out and touch, but it's fairly quick that he takes it back. He can't handle this. He shouldn't have to. He's barely 19, for fucks sake.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Uncomfortable with the eye contact, Ranboo shifts his weight and swishes his tail. Was he missing something? Was there a memo that he was supposed to know about? Maybe there was a prank happening and he’d just ruined it?]

Look, Mr President, I hate to be rude but, uh, do you know where we are?

[he scratches the back of his neck and laughs awkwardly, hoping to dispel some of the tension.]

You know me and my memory issues, I must’ve wandered off and gotten lost...

[He opens his mouth to speak, and then shuts it. He can't cry, and he knows if he speaks there will be a floodgate kicked in.]

[He thinks maybe if words fail, he can just write something. He fishes his comm out of his pocket.]

Tubbo_ whispers to you: you are in Snowchester.

[His fingers tremble as he clicks the buttons, and between each letter he looks back at Ranboo to make sure he's real. When he finishes typing, he clips his comm to his belt, and reaches lazily for Ranboo's hand, needing to feel him to believe it.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo grabs his comm from the pocket of his jacket, looking at the screen with a puzzled expression.]

Snowchester? What’s tha- Wait, why are we not in L’manburg?

[He does his best to ignore Tubbo’s hand in his, despite the purple flush rising in his face. This is fine, this is totally normal, he can be professional.]

[Tubbo absently wonders if the scarring from the burger van conflicts have faded with revival. He wonders how Ranboo's callouses have changed in the year- it had to have been a year- that he's been gone.]

[It's only after he thinks this that he processes Ranboo's words. His words hit like a bombshell to his chest, and his heart begins to race. Ranboo just forgets- that's okay- that's not a problem. At least Ranboo remembers him. That's what matters. He supposes it's been a long time- really it makes some sense, he's just-]

[Oh. He can't breathe.]

[Panic fills his chest and mind and his grip on Ranboo's hand tightens. He has to hold it with both hands, and the coldness is a little grounding, but it doesn't save him this terror.]

[He's been so alone for so long. He can't be safe, this can't be real, they have to go. He takes Ranboo's hand with all the strength he can muster and attempts to pull him to his home. They aren't safe out in the open.]

[He's only able to take two steps before he nearly trips over his own feet, gasping and gagging through the lack of air.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Whoa, whoa, Mr President slo- Tubbo!

[Tubbo’s change in balance nearly causes Ranboo to go toppling after him. He manages to catch the both of them, though, and presses his other hand on top of Tubbo’s.]

Hey, hey, come on man, breathe for me, breathe Tubbo.

[Ranboo catches him. He doesn't fall- he doesn't fall like in all of those nightmares where Ranboo comes back and then disappears just as easily, he's here. Ranboo is here. The notion almost makes him sicker.]

[His ears are ringing, his vision is blurred, but Ranboo is right here. He doesn't know what compells him, but because of that, he manages to find the air around him.]

[Gasp, exhale, repeat. Gasp, exhale, repeat. Breathe. Do it for Ranboo. Do it for Michael- Michael will be so excited to see his dad.]

[Ranboo's hands are cool and calloused. The sky is blue, but there's a storm rolling in. The snow beneath him is powdery. Ranboo's hands are real. Ranboo's looking at him concerned. Ranboo's hands. Sky, snow, hands.]

[They're not under attack.]

You died.

[His voice is weak, but it does the job, even if it cracks. Like a faulty mug.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Those words alone almost make him drop the former president on his ass in the snow.]

I- what?

[Now his mind is running, chasing circles around itself and begging himself to remember, remember, remember.]

Okay, we can- we can talk about that later, right now let’s just, uh, we can go somewhere warm okay? I can carry you, if you want? Let’s just get somewhere- somewhere safe, then we can talk.

[Tubbo shakes his head- and gets on his own two feet, supporting himself, and carefully lets go of Ranboo's hand. He gestures for the other to follow him, and leads the way to his little cottage.]

[You would expect him to live in the mansion. He can't afford that, a ghost lived there last he checked, and some bunny girl, too.]

[He unlocks the door, and holds it open.]

My house.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo has to duck his head to pass the doorframe, and he stands in the entryway politely. It’s a quaint little place, wood and wool and stone. It feels homey, feels like Tubbo.]

This is a really nice place, I love the, uh, the floors, the wood’s really great. Did you build it yourself?

[He knows he’s just talking to fill the silence, but he can’t stop himself. He wrings his hands nervously, and his tail swishes behind him.]

[Tubbo sighs, and he nods. During the walk he was able to collect his thoughts. Ranboo is alive. Ranboo is awkwardly fidgeting. Ranboo is just as wonderful as he remembers. Ranboo remembered him, in all that time away.]

Kind of. You helped me build parts of Snowchester- but, just so you know, 'm not really the president anymore, boss man. L'Manburg- well, it's sort of gone, haha.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Immediately, his ears perk up, the gold hanging from them swinging and shining in the light.]

Gone? What do you mean, gone? It can’t be-

[He stops, all movement ceasing. His heart nearly stops dead in his chest.]

How much am I missing?

[He blinks, considering his options. He could lie, tell Ranboo there wasn't that much that he missed, but then he'd have to leave out their marriage, their home, their son.]

[Their son. Maybe that would help, somehow.]

Oh, you know, not too too much. Do you remember Michael?

[He tries to keep his tone casual.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Michael... Michael, Michael...

[The name is so achingly familiar, it feels like a punch to the gut. There’s something there, something deep and instinctual connected to that name. But there’s no face tied to it, only a blank space where the memory should be.]

I’m not- I don’t- Uh-

Hey, that's okay. Don't worry. Come with me.

[He grabs a pole with a hook at the end, and hooks it onto a latch door above them. He pulls it open and a ladder comes quickly down, and he gestures for Ranboo to follow him up it.]

[There, a little baby piglin sits, staring out the open window at the coming storm, clutching a chicken plushie tightly to his chest.]

That's Michael.

[He says, when Ranboo joins him in the bedroom.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[The depth of just how much he’s missed hits him square in the chest, and it steals the air from his lungs.]

[Ranboo does not know this child.]

Oh, uh, hi Michael, nice to meet you.

[He raises a hand to wave awkwardly, then seems to pull into himself.]

Okay, the visit’s been great, thank you for having me, but I think I really should be going. If you could just point me in the direction of L’manburg, I’ll be out of your hair.

Ranboo, L'Manburg- it's not around anymore. Uh, Technoblade and Phil- and Dream, hah. They kind of blew it up, boss man.

[He puts a hand on Ranboo's arm, gently, slowly, making sure Ranboo can see his every move. Michael looks up, and his eye lights up. He runs over and begins babbling about something or other. Tubbo continues in a more hushed tone.]

That's our boy, Michael. We're raising him together. In- well, kind of in Snowchester. Maybe you should sit down and we can talk for longer.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo stumbles back a couple short steps, mind reeling.]

Okay, I get it, haha funny. Memory Boy doesn’t remember things, great joke. You can let it go now, man.

[He keeps glancing between Tubbo and Michael, at war with himself. Part of him wants to just go home, feed his cats and write about this weird dream in his memory book. But the other, much louder part of him knows these people, knows this place.]

[His tail lashes, and a nervous vrrr makes its way out of him.]

I love a good joke as much as the next guy, but I wouldn't joke about that, Ranboo.

[He thinks. Then he points.]

The crater is that way. Can you walk? I'll show you.

[Seeing is believing, he thinks. That's what made him believe Ranboo was dead, subsequently that he was alive. That would work fine.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

The crater?

[He follows Tubbo mainly on instinct, echoing countless days of following him around taking notes. They leave the house, Ranboo quiet by Tubbo’s side, and just for a moment things seem normal. Then Tubbo’s hand slips into his, casual as breathing, and Ranboo has to remember how to walk properly.]

[Tubbo worries this is too much, but he's more afraid of losing Ranboo again than keeping up some facade. It feels safe. It feels like a touch he missed more than anything.]

[They arrive at where the crater would be, and Tubbo almost passes out.]

This- but- where's-

[He sinks to his knees at the outskirts of his home- his hell- and he doesn't let go of Ranboo's hand.]

[He can hear echoes of laughter, and echoes of sobs, and he can almost see the TNT raining. But that much is all in his head.]

[The country can't be.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

What happened to this place?

[his eyes scour the landscape, familiar but still incredibly wrong. the edges of the buildings seem almost fuzzy, like a mirage. the cobblestones that make up the paths flicker between many different colors like TV static.]

something's- tubbo?

[Ranboo drops to the ground at Tubbo's side. always, always ready to catch him.]

Tubbo, hey, what's wrong? what's going on?

[Words are so hard, it feels like cotton is stuffing his throat shut, he can barely breathe. Michael deserves to see this, their home- Ranboo doesn't even seem to remember who he is- he can't do this.]

[He was strong enough to lose Ranboo. He isn't strong enough to have him there, taunting him, but have lost everything they had. He can't do it.]

[He's gone through the stages of grief, he's moved on, but now he's faced with two mirages- one of his home and hell, and one of his husband.]

[He's going to die of dehydration soon.]

[Sooner than he thinks, he realizes, as finally a tear slips down his cheek. It's not real. He knows it's not real. It'll be gone by the morning. He isn't sure if that makes it better.]

[The tears come faster.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo bends low, making himself seem so small. He gently, oh so gently, cradles tubbo's face in his hands.]

[he's not sure why he's doing this, as tubbo"s tears sizzle against his hands. but something calls him. To stay, and stay, and stay.]

Tubbo, hey, shh.

[feather light and with all the care he has in his calloused hands and scarred face, he presses a kiss to tubbo's brow.]

shh.

[He can't think, he doesn't know what's happening, but he leans in to the touch like second nature. Tubbo had never been a touch person, not till Ranboo. Even still, some days touch was the thing he despised more than anything, like fire ants digging into him.]

[Today, evidently, was not one of these days.]

[Tubbo leans slowly into Ranboo, tears slowing over the coming minutes. When they finally stop, he looks at Ranboo with glazed over eyes. His next words are shaken, and so boundlessly and incredibly exhausted.]

You're not real, are you? None of this is- this is one of my nightmares. Tell me to wake up. Please.

[He reaches, and he can feel Ranboo's face when he holds it. What a cruel reality, that his night terrors can manifest even in tactile ways?]

[He'll be haunted by this one for the rest of his life, he's sure of it. How he aches to kiss that smile square on, to tell Michael that his dad isn't going again.]

[Nothing lasts for Tubbo. He still begs the universe, pathetically.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[his brow furrows in the predictable way it does.]

No- I-

[he fumbles with the words for a moment, sighing and pressing his forehead to tubbo's. it's familiar, like a movement he's done hundreds of times without even knowing it. their noses slot together easily, and ranboo tries to ignore the furious beating of his heart.]

tubbo, i- I may not exactly know what's going on, but I really don't think I'm going anywhere. I feel pretty real, I think.

[he rubs a thumb across his president's cheekbone, and it's as easy as breathing.]

I'm sorry I don't remember everything you want me to, but...

I know that we're both real. we have to be.

[Tubbo loses. He loses constantly, he loses like loss is a drug he can't quit.]

[Tubbo is good at losing, he's done it since Marburg. He's good at being lied to, he was once good at doing what he was told, he was once good at being a president, once good at being a butcher, once good at being a husband and a father, once good at being a killer.]

[Tubbo was once good. Now he's just a boy who's lost everything, a boy who thought he was left with a son and a ghost town, a place he could hardly call home, but he could call a place to stay. Mirages make their way into his life everyday, in the form of stolen wines. It comes in the form of overloading on caffeine and evading sleep. It comes in the form of plunging into ice cold ocean water to wake up from nothing.]

[Tubbo hasn't felt awake in almost a year. But here's Ranboo. Ranboo and his gentle hold, and his nose pressed against Tubbo's, and his lips and chin inches away, and safety. Ranboo's thumb wipes at the trail that the tears once ran through, an effective dam.]

[Tubbo loses. Tubbo knows mirages. Glancing past Ranboo, he sees the ruins as he remembers them. There is no fuzzy outline. There is a wreckage here, and Gods, it's beautiful. Ranboo is still here, sitting with him beside the wreckage.]

[They're both real.]

[They're both real.]

We're both real.

[He submits. He accepts his heart will be strung along again, fated to ache over and over. Love is always worth the pain it brings. Love is not a mirage.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

mhm, [ranboo nods, strangely assured.] we are.

[and then ranboo smiles, and that is enough.]

#until the darkness does recede [ranboounderscorebeloved]#screaming in tune [thread]#resetverse #(FIRST THREAD DONE!!!!!)

Tub- uh, Mr President! Hey, wait up!

-@ranboounderscorebeloved

[There's an echo in his ears. He gets them often. Little voices from the past, ringing and promising him a future which he never found, beckoning him to regress to the past.]

[His husband is dead. That can't be him, it's just a voice, keep walking, Tubbo. He thinks.]

[He figures it's an echo, at least, until he hears footsteps, crunching in the snow. He turns drawing his axe in case he has to wave off that stupid ghost again, but instead he just sees an all-too familiar face.]

Ranboo?

ranboounderscorebeloved

Mr President!

[Ranboo is about to run up to him, tail wagging, and stand close like he’s so used to doing (it’s only because the President can’t hear very well, that’s the only reason), but he stops short.]

Hey, uh, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! All respect of course- I’m sure you- And that’s not to say that-

[He drops the axe, and for a good minute, only stares. His lips part ever-so-slightly to truly convey his shock, and every emotion he could possibly feel festers in his belly.]

[He is thrilled. Oh gods, he could kiss Ranboo right now.]

[He is pissed. Who brought him back? Why did they wait so long?]

[He is in absolute denial. This can't be right.]

[He wants to sob against Ranboo's chest. He wants to scream. He wants to feel at peace for once.]

[He just stares instead. For just a moment, he moves to reach out and touch, but it's fairly quick that he takes it back. He can't handle this. He shouldn't have to. He's barely 19, for fucks sake.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Uncomfortable with the eye contact, Ranboo shifts his weight and swishes his tail. Was he missing something? Was there a memo that he was supposed to know about? Maybe there was a prank happening and he’d just ruined it?]

Look, Mr President, I hate to be rude but, uh, do you know where we are?

[he scratches the back of his neck and laughs awkwardly, hoping to dispel some of the tension.]

You know me and my memory issues, I must’ve wandered off and gotten lost...

[He opens his mouth to speak, and then shuts it. He can't cry, and he knows if he speaks there will be a floodgate kicked in.]

[He thinks maybe if words fail, he can just write something. He fishes his comm out of his pocket.]

Tubbo_ whispers to you: you are in Snowchester.

[His fingers tremble as he clicks the buttons, and between each letter he looks back at Ranboo to make sure he's real. When he finishes typing, he clips his comm to his belt, and reaches lazily for Ranboo's hand, needing to feel him to believe it.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo grabs his comm from the pocket of his jacket, looking at the screen with a puzzled expression.]

Snowchester? What’s tha- Wait, why are we not in L’manburg?

[He does his best to ignore Tubbo’s hand in his, despite the purple flush rising in his face. This is fine, this is totally normal, he can be professional.]

[Tubbo absently wonders if the scarring from the burger van conflicts have faded with revival. He wonders how Ranboo's callouses have changed in the year- it had to have been a year- that he's been gone.]

[It's only after he thinks this that he processes Ranboo's words. His words hit like a bombshell to his chest, and his heart begins to race. Ranboo just forgets- that's okay- that's not a problem. At least Ranboo remembers him. That's what matters. He supposes it's been a long time- really it makes some sense, he's just-]

[Oh. He can't breathe.]

[Panic fills his chest and mind and his grip on Ranboo's hand tightens. He has to hold it with both hands, and the coldness is a little grounding, but it doesn't save him this terror.]

[He's been so alone for so long. He can't be safe, this can't be real, they have to go. He takes Ranboo's hand with all the strength he can muster and attempts to pull him to his home. They aren't safe out in the open.]

[He's only able to take two steps before he nearly trips over his own feet, gasping and gagging through the lack of air.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Whoa, whoa, Mr President slo- Tubbo!

[Tubbo’s change in balance nearly causes Ranboo to go toppling after him. He manages to catch the both of them, though, and presses his other hand on top of Tubbo’s.]

Hey, hey, come on man, breathe for me, breathe Tubbo.

[Ranboo catches him. He doesn't fall- he doesn't fall like in all of those nightmares where Ranboo comes back and then disappears just as easily, he's here. Ranboo is here. The notion almost makes him sicker.]

[His ears are ringing, his vision is blurred, but Ranboo is right here. He doesn't know what compells him, but because of that, he manages to find the air around him.]

[Gasp, exhale, repeat. Gasp, exhale, repeat. Breathe. Do it for Ranboo. Do it for Michael- Michael will be so excited to see his dad.]

[Ranboo's hands are cool and calloused. The sky is blue, but there's a storm rolling in. The snow beneath him is powdery. Ranboo's hands are real. Ranboo's looking at him concerned. Ranboo's hands. Sky, snow, hands.]

[They're not under attack.]

You died.

[His voice is weak, but it does the job, even if it cracks. Like a faulty mug.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Those words alone almost make him drop the former president on his ass in the snow.]

I- what?

[Now his mind is running, chasing circles around itself and begging himself to remember, remember, remember.]

Okay, we can- we can talk about that later, right now let’s just, uh, we can go somewhere warm okay? I can carry you, if you want? Let’s just get somewhere- somewhere safe, then we can talk.

[Tubbo shakes his head- and gets on his own two feet, supporting himself, and carefully lets go of Ranboo's hand. He gestures for the other to follow him, and leads the way to his little cottage.]

[You would expect him to live in the mansion. He can't afford that, a ghost lived there last he checked, and some bunny girl, too.]

[He unlocks the door, and holds it open.]

My house.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo has to duck his head to pass the doorframe, and he stands in the entryway politely. It’s a quaint little place, wood and wool and stone. It feels homey, feels like Tubbo.]

This is a really nice place, I love the, uh, the floors, the wood’s really great. Did you build it yourself?

[He knows he’s just talking to fill the silence, but he can’t stop himself. He wrings his hands nervously, and his tail swishes behind him.]

[Tubbo sighs, and he nods. During the walk he was able to collect his thoughts. Ranboo is alive. Ranboo is awkwardly fidgeting. Ranboo is just as wonderful as he remembers. Ranboo remembered him, in all that time away.]

Kind of. You helped me build parts of Snowchester- but, just so you know, 'm not really the president anymore, boss man. L'Manburg- well, it's sort of gone, haha.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Immediately, his ears perk up, the gold hanging from them swinging and shining in the light.]

Gone? What do you mean, gone? It can’t be-

[He stops, all movement ceasing. His heart nearly stops dead in his chest.]

How much am I missing?

[He blinks, considering his options. He could lie, tell Ranboo there wasn't that much that he missed, but then he'd have to leave out their marriage, their home, their son.]

[Their son. Maybe that would help, somehow.]

Oh, you know, not too too much. Do you remember Michael?

[He tries to keep his tone casual.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Michael... Michael, Michael...

[The name is so achingly familiar, it feels like a punch to the gut. There’s something there, something deep and instinctual connected to that name. But there’s no face tied to it, only a blank space where the memory should be.]

I’m not- I don’t- Uh-

Hey, that's okay. Don't worry. Come with me.

[He grabs a pole with a hook at the end, and hooks it onto a latch door above them. He pulls it open and a ladder comes quickly down, and he gestures for Ranboo to follow him up it.]

[There, a little baby piglin sits, staring out the open window at the coming storm, clutching a chicken plushie tightly to his chest.]

That's Michael.

[He says, when Ranboo joins him in the bedroom.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[The depth of just how much he’s missed hits him square in the chest, and it steals the air from his lungs.]

[Ranboo does not know this child.]

Oh, uh, hi Michael, nice to meet you.

[He raises a hand to wave awkwardly, then seems to pull into himself.]

Okay, the visit’s been great, thank you for having me, but I think I really should be going. If you could just point me in the direction of L’manburg, I’ll be out of your hair.

Ranboo, L'Manburg- it's not around anymore. Uh, Technoblade and Phil- and Dream, hah. They kind of blew it up, boss man.

[He puts a hand on Ranboo's arm, gently, slowly, making sure Ranboo can see his every move. Michael looks up, and his eye lights up. He runs over and begins babbling about something or other. Tubbo continues in a more hushed tone.]

That's our boy, Michael. We're raising him together. In- well, kind of in Snowchester. Maybe you should sit down and we can talk for longer.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo stumbles back a couple short steps, mind reeling.]

Okay, I get it, haha funny. Memory Boy doesn’t remember things, great joke. You can let it go now, man.

[He keeps glancing between Tubbo and Michael, at war with himself. Part of him wants to just go home, feed his cats and write about this weird dream in his memory book. But the other, much louder part of him knows these people, knows this place.]

[His tail lashes, and a nervous vrrr makes its way out of him.]

I love a good joke as much as the next guy, but I wouldn't joke about that, Ranboo.

[He thinks. Then he points.]

The crater is that way. Can you walk? I'll show you.

[Seeing is believing, he thinks. That's what made him believe Ranboo was dead, subsequently that he was alive. That would work fine.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

The crater?

[He follows Tubbo mainly on instinct, echoing countless days of following him around taking notes. They leave the house, Ranboo quiet by Tubbo’s side, and just for a moment things seem normal. Then Tubbo’s hand slips into his, casual as breathing, and Ranboo has to remember how to walk properly.]

[Tubbo worries this is too much, but he's more afraid of losing Ranboo again than keeping up some facade. It feels safe. It feels like a touch he missed more than anything.]

[They arrive at where the crater would be, and Tubbo almost passes out.]

This- but- where's-

[He sinks to his knees at the outskirts of his home- his hell- and he doesn't let go of Ranboo's hand.]

[He can hear echoes of laughter, and echoes of sobs, and he can almost see the TNT raining. But that much is all in his head.]

[The country can't be.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

What happened to this place?

[his eyes scour the landscape, familiar but still incredibly wrong. the edges of the buildings seem almost fuzzy, like a mirage. the cobblestones that make up the paths flicker between many different colors like TV static.]

something's- tubbo?

[Ranboo drops to the ground at Tubbo's side. always, always ready to catch him.]

Tubbo, hey, what's wrong? what's going on?

[Words are so hard, it feels like cotton is stuffing his throat shut, he can barely breathe. Michael deserves to see this, their home- Ranboo doesn't even seem to remember who he is- he can't do this.]

[He was strong enough to lose Ranboo. He isn't strong enough to have him there, taunting him, but have lost everything they had. He can't do it.]

[He's gone through the stages of grief, he's moved on, but now he's faced with two mirages- one of his home and hell, and one of his husband.]

[He's going to die of dehydration soon.]

[Sooner than he thinks, he realizes, as finally a tear slips down his cheek. It's not real. He knows it's not real. It'll be gone by the morning. He isn't sure if that makes it better.]

[The tears come faster.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo bends low, making himself seem so small. He gently, oh so gently, cradles tubbo's face in his hands.]

[he's not sure why he's doing this, as tubbo"s tears sizzle against his hands. but something calls him. To stay, and stay, and stay.]

Tubbo, hey, shh.

[feather light and with all the care he has in his calloused hands and scarred face, he presses a kiss to tubbo's brow.]

shh.

[He can't think, he doesn't know what's happening, but he leans in to the touch like second nature. Tubbo had never been a touch person, not till Ranboo. Even still, some days touch was the thing he despised more than anything, like fire ants digging into him.]

[Today, evidently, was not one of these days.]

[Tubbo leans slowly into Ranboo, tears slowing over the coming minutes. When they finally stop, he looks at Ranboo with glazed over eyes. His next words are shaken, and so boundlessly and incredibly exhausted.]

You're not real, are you? None of this is- this is one of my nightmares. Tell me to wake up. Please.

[He reaches, and he can feel Ranboo's face when he holds it. What a cruel reality, that his night terrors can manifest even in tactile ways?]

[He'll be haunted by this one for the rest of his life, he's sure of it. How he aches to kiss that smile square on, to tell Michael that his dad isn't going again.]

[Nothing lasts for Tubbo. He still begs the universe, pathetically.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[his brow furrows in the predictable way it does.]

No- I-

[he fumbles with the words for a moment, sighing and pressing his forehead to tubbo's. it's familiar, like a movement he's done hundreds of times without even knowing it. their noses slot together easily, and ranboo tries to ignore the furious beating of his heart.]

tubbo, i- I may not exactly know what's going on, but I really don't think I'm going anywhere. I feel pretty real, I think.

[he rubs a thumb across his president's cheekbone, and it's as easy as breathing.]

I'm sorry I don't remember everything you want me to, but...

I know that we're both real. we have to be.

[Tubbo loses. He loses constantly, he loses like loss is a drug he can't quit.]

[Tubbo is good at losing, he's done it since Marburg. He's good at being lied to, he was once good at doing what he was told, he was once good at being a president, once good at being a butcher, once good at being a husband and a father, once good at being a killer.]

[Tubbo was once good. Now he's just a boy who's lost everything, a boy who thought he was left with a son and a ghost town, a place he could hardly call home, but he could call a place to stay. Mirages make their way into his life everyday, in the form of stolen wines. It comes in the form of overloading on caffeine and evading sleep. It comes in the form of plunging into ice cold ocean water to wake up from nothing.]

[Tubbo hasn't felt awake in almost a year. But here's Ranboo. Ranboo and his gentle hold, and his nose pressed against Tubbo's, and his lips and chin inches away, and safety. Ranboo's thumb wipes at the trail that the tears once ran through, an effective dam.]

[Tubbo loses. Tubbo knows mirages. Glancing past Ranboo, he sees the ruins as he remembers them. There is no fuzzy outline. There is a wreckage here, and Gods, it's beautiful. Ranboo is still here, sitting with him beside the wreckage.]

[They're both real.]

[They're both real.]

We're both real.

[He submits. He accepts his heart will be strung along again, fated to ache over and over. Love is always worth the pain it brings. Love is not a mirage.]

#until the darkness does recede [ranboounderscorebeloved]#screaming in tune [thread]#resetverse

Tub- uh, Mr President! Hey, wait up!

-@ranboounderscorebeloved

[There's an echo in his ears. He gets them often. Little voices from the past, ringing and promising him a future which he never found, beckoning him to regress to the past.]

[His husband is dead. That can't be him, it's just a voice, keep walking, Tubbo. He thinks.]

[He figures it's an echo, at least, until he hears footsteps, crunching in the snow. He turns drawing his axe in case he has to wave off that stupid ghost again, but instead he just sees an all-too familiar face.]

Ranboo?

ranboounderscorebeloved

Mr President!

[Ranboo is about to run up to him, tail wagging, and stand close like he’s so used to doing (it’s only because the President can’t hear very well, that’s the only reason), but he stops short.]

Hey, uh, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! All respect of course- I’m sure you- And that’s not to say that-

[He drops the axe, and for a good minute, only stares. His lips part ever-so-slightly to truly convey his shock, and every emotion he could possibly feel festers in his belly.]

[He is thrilled. Oh gods, he could kiss Ranboo right now.]

[He is pissed. Who brought him back? Why did they wait so long?]

[He is in absolute denial. This can't be right.]

[He wants to sob against Ranboo's chest. He wants to scream. He wants to feel at peace for once.]

[He just stares instead. For just a moment, he moves to reach out and touch, but it's fairly quick that he takes it back. He can't handle this. He shouldn't have to. He's barely 19, for fucks sake.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Uncomfortable with the eye contact, Ranboo shifts his weight and swishes his tail. Was he missing something? Was there a memo that he was supposed to know about? Maybe there was a prank happening and he’d just ruined it?]

Look, Mr President, I hate to be rude but, uh, do you know where we are?

[he scratches the back of his neck and laughs awkwardly, hoping to dispel some of the tension.]

You know me and my memory issues, I must’ve wandered off and gotten lost...

[He opens his mouth to speak, and then shuts it. He can't cry, and he knows if he speaks there will be a floodgate kicked in.]

[He thinks maybe if words fail, he can just write something. He fishes his comm out of his pocket.]

Tubbo_ whispers to you: you are in Snowchester.

[His fingers tremble as he clicks the buttons, and between each letter he looks back at Ranboo to make sure he's real. When he finishes typing, he clips his comm to his belt, and reaches lazily for Ranboo's hand, needing to feel him to believe it.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo grabs his comm from the pocket of his jacket, looking at the screen with a puzzled expression.]

Snowchester? What’s tha- Wait, why are we not in L’manburg?

[He does his best to ignore Tubbo’s hand in his, despite the purple flush rising in his face. This is fine, this is totally normal, he can be professional.]

[Tubbo absently wonders if the scarring from the burger van conflicts have faded with revival. He wonders how Ranboo's callouses have changed in the year- it had to have been a year- that he's been gone.]

[It's only after he thinks this that he processes Ranboo's words. His words hit like a bombshell to his chest, and his heart begins to race. Ranboo just forgets- that's okay- that's not a problem. At least Ranboo remembers him. That's what matters. He supposes it's been a long time- really it makes some sense, he's just-]

[Oh. He can't breathe.]

[Panic fills his chest and mind and his grip on Ranboo's hand tightens. He has to hold it with both hands, and the coldness is a little grounding, but it doesn't save him this terror.]

[He's been so alone for so long. He can't be safe, this can't be real, they have to go. He takes Ranboo's hand with all the strength he can muster and attempts to pull him to his home. They aren't safe out in the open.]

[He's only able to take two steps before he nearly trips over his own feet, gasping and gagging through the lack of air.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Whoa, whoa, Mr President slo- Tubbo!

[Tubbo’s change in balance nearly causes Ranboo to go toppling after him. He manages to catch the both of them, though, and presses his other hand on top of Tubbo’s.]

Hey, hey, come on man, breathe for me, breathe Tubbo.

[Ranboo catches him. He doesn't fall- he doesn't fall like in all of those nightmares where Ranboo comes back and then disappears just as easily, he's here. Ranboo is here. The notion almost makes him sicker.]

[His ears are ringing, his vision is blurred, but Ranboo is right here. He doesn't know what compells him, but because of that, he manages to find the air around him.]

[Gasp, exhale, repeat. Gasp, exhale, repeat. Breathe. Do it for Ranboo. Do it for Michael- Michael will be so excited to see his dad.]

[Ranboo's hands are cool and calloused. The sky is blue, but there's a storm rolling in. The snow beneath him is powdery. Ranboo's hands are real. Ranboo's looking at him concerned. Ranboo's hands. Sky, snow, hands.]

[They're not under attack.]

You died.

[His voice is weak, but it does the job, even if it cracks. Like a faulty mug.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Those words alone almost make him drop the former president on his ass in the snow.]

I- what?

[Now his mind is running, chasing circles around itself and begging himself to remember, remember, remember.]

Okay, we can- we can talk about that later, right now let’s just, uh, we can go somewhere warm okay? I can carry you, if you want? Let’s just get somewhere- somewhere safe, then we can talk.

[Tubbo shakes his head- and gets on his own two feet, supporting himself, and carefully lets go of Ranboo's hand. He gestures for the other to follow him, and leads the way to his little cottage.]

[You would expect him to live in the mansion. He can't afford that, a ghost lived there last he checked, and some bunny girl, too.]

[He unlocks the door, and holds it open.]

My house.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo has to duck his head to pass the doorframe, and he stands in the entryway politely. It’s a quaint little place, wood and wool and stone. It feels homey, feels like Tubbo.]

This is a really nice place, I love the, uh, the floors, the wood’s really great. Did you build it yourself?

[He knows he’s just talking to fill the silence, but he can’t stop himself. He wrings his hands nervously, and his tail swishes behind him.]

[Tubbo sighs, and he nods. During the walk he was able to collect his thoughts. Ranboo is alive. Ranboo is awkwardly fidgeting. Ranboo is just as wonderful as he remembers. Ranboo remembered him, in all that time away.]

Kind of. You helped me build parts of Snowchester- but, just so you know, 'm not really the president anymore, boss man. L'Manburg- well, it's sort of gone, haha.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Immediately, his ears perk up, the gold hanging from them swinging and shining in the light.]

Gone? What do you mean, gone? It can’t be-

[He stops, all movement ceasing. His heart nearly stops dead in his chest.]

How much am I missing?

[He blinks, considering his options. He could lie, tell Ranboo there wasn't that much that he missed, but then he'd have to leave out their marriage, their home, their son.]

[Their son. Maybe that would help, somehow.]

Oh, you know, not too too much. Do you remember Michael?

[He tries to keep his tone casual.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Michael... Michael, Michael...

[The name is so achingly familiar, it feels like a punch to the gut. There’s something there, something deep and instinctual connected to that name. But there’s no face tied to it, only a blank space where the memory should be.]

I’m not- I don’t- Uh-

Hey, that's okay. Don't worry. Come with me.

[He grabs a pole with a hook at the end, and hooks it onto a latch door above them. He pulls it open and a ladder comes quickly down, and he gestures for Ranboo to follow him up it.]

[There, a little baby piglin sits, staring out the open window at the coming storm, clutching a chicken plushie tightly to his chest.]

That's Michael.

[He says, when Ranboo joins him in the bedroom.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[The depth of just how much he’s missed hits him square in the chest, and it steals the air from his lungs.]

[Ranboo does not know this child.]

Oh, uh, hi Michael, nice to meet you.

[He raises a hand to wave awkwardly, then seems to pull into himself.]

Okay, the visit’s been great, thank you for having me, but I think I really should be going. If you could just point me in the direction of L’manburg, I’ll be out of your hair.

Ranboo, L'Manburg- it's not around anymore. Uh, Technoblade and Phil- and Dream, hah. They kind of blew it up, boss man.

[He puts a hand on Ranboo's arm, gently, slowly, making sure Ranboo can see his every move. Michael looks up, and his eye lights up. He runs over and begins babbling about something or other. Tubbo continues in a more hushed tone.]

That's our boy, Michael. We're raising him together. In- well, kind of in Snowchester. Maybe you should sit down and we can talk for longer.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo stumbles back a couple short steps, mind reeling.]

Okay, I get it, haha funny. Memory Boy doesn’t remember things, great joke. You can let it go now, man.

[He keeps glancing between Tubbo and Michael, at war with himself. Part of him wants to just go home, feed his cats and write about this weird dream in his memory book. But the other, much louder part of him knows these people, knows this place.]

[His tail lashes, and a nervous vrrr makes its way out of him.]

I love a good joke as much as the next guy, but I wouldn't joke about that, Ranboo.

[He thinks. Then he points.]

The crater is that way. Can you walk? I'll show you.

[Seeing is believing, he thinks. That's what made him believe Ranboo was dead, subsequently that he was alive. That would work fine.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

The crater?

[He follows Tubbo mainly on instinct, echoing countless days of following him around taking notes. They leave the house, Ranboo quiet by Tubbo’s side, and just for a moment things seem normal. Then Tubbo’s hand slips into his, casual as breathing, and Ranboo has to remember how to walk properly.]

[Tubbo worries this is too much, but he's more afraid of losing Ranboo again than keeping up some facade. It feels safe. It feels like a touch he missed more than anything.]

[They arrive at where the crater would be, and Tubbo almost passes out.]

This- but- where's-

[He sinks to his knees at the outskirts of his home- his hell- and he doesn't let go of Ranboo's hand.]

[He can hear echoes of laughter, and echoes of sobs, and he can almost see the TNT raining. But that much is all in his head.]

[The country can't be.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

What happened to this place?

[his eyes scour the landscape, familiar but still incredibly wrong. the edges of the buildings seem almost fuzzy, like a mirage. the cobblestones that make up the paths flicker between many different colors like TV static.]

something's- tubbo?

[Ranboo drops to the ground at Tubbo's side. always, always ready to catch him.]

Tubbo, hey, what's wrong? what's going on?

[Words are so hard, it feels like cotton is stuffing his throat shut, he can barely breathe. Michael deserves to see this, their home- Ranboo doesn't even seem to remember who he is- he can't do this.]

[He was strong enough to lose Ranboo. He isn't strong enough to have him there, taunting him, but have lost everything they had. He can't do it.]

[He's gone through the stages of grief, he's moved on, but now he's faced with two mirages- one of his home and hell, and one of his husband.]

[He's going to die of dehydration soon.]

[Sooner than he thinks, he realizes, as finally a tear slips down his cheek. It's not real. He knows it's not real. It'll be gone by the morning. He isn't sure if that makes it better.]

[The tears come faster.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo bends low, making himself seem so small. He gently, oh so gently, cradles tubbo's face in his hands.]

[he's not sure why he's doing this, as tubbo"s tears sizzle against his hands. but something calls him. To stay, and stay, and stay.]

Tubbo, hey, shh.

[feather light and with all the care he has in his calloused hands and scarred face, he presses a kiss to tubbo's brow.]

shh.

[He can't think, he doesn't know what's happening, but he leans in to the touch like second nature. Tubbo had never been a touch person, not till Ranboo. Even still, some days touch was the thing he despised more than anything, like fire ants digging into him.]

[Today, evidently, was not one of these days.]

[Tubbo leans slowly into Ranboo, tears slowing over the coming minutes. When they finally stop, he looks at Ranboo with glazed over eyes. His next words are shaken, and so boundlessly and incredibly exhausted.]

You're not real, are you? None of this is- this is one of my nightmares. Tell me to wake up. Please.

[He reaches, and he can feel Ranboo's face when he holds it. What a cruel reality, that his night terrors can manifest even in tactile ways?]

[He'll be haunted by this one for the rest of his life, he's sure of it. How he aches to kiss that smile square on, to tell Michael that his dad isn't going again.]

[Nothing lasts for Tubbo. He still begs the universe, pathetically.]

#until the darkness does recede [ranboounderscorebeloved]

Tub- uh, Mr President! Hey, wait up!

-@ranboounderscorebeloved

[There's an echo in his ears. He gets them often. Little voices from the past, ringing and promising him a future which he never found, beckoning him to regress to the past.]

[His husband is dead. That can't be him, it's just a voice, keep walking, Tubbo. He thinks.]

[He figures it's an echo, at least, until he hears footsteps, crunching in the snow. He turns drawing his axe in case he has to wave off that stupid ghost again, but instead he just sees an all-too familiar face.]

Ranboo?

ranboounderscorebeloved

Mr President!

[Ranboo is about to run up to him, tail wagging, and stand close like he’s so used to doing (it’s only because the President can’t hear very well, that’s the only reason), but he stops short.]

Hey, uh, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! All respect of course- I’m sure you- And that’s not to say that-

[He drops the axe, and for a good minute, only stares. His lips part ever-so-slightly to truly convey his shock, and every emotion he could possibly feel festers in his belly.]

[He is thrilled. Oh gods, he could kiss Ranboo right now.]

[He is pissed. Who brought him back? Why did they wait so long?]

[He is in absolute denial. This can't be right.]

[He wants to sob against Ranboo's chest. He wants to scream. He wants to feel at peace for once.]

[He just stares instead. For just a moment, he moves to reach out and touch, but it's fairly quick that he takes it back. He can't handle this. He shouldn't have to. He's barely 19, for fucks sake.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Uncomfortable with the eye contact, Ranboo shifts his weight and swishes his tail. Was he missing something? Was there a memo that he was supposed to know about? Maybe there was a prank happening and he’d just ruined it?]

Look, Mr President, I hate to be rude but, uh, do you know where we are?

[he scratches the back of his neck and laughs awkwardly, hoping to dispel some of the tension.]

You know me and my memory issues, I must’ve wandered off and gotten lost...

[He opens his mouth to speak, and then shuts it. He can't cry, and he knows if he speaks there will be a floodgate kicked in.]

[He thinks maybe if words fail, he can just write something. He fishes his comm out of his pocket.]

Tubbo_ whispers to you: you are in Snowchester.

[His fingers tremble as he clicks the buttons, and between each letter he looks back at Ranboo to make sure he's real. When he finishes typing, he clips his comm to his belt, and reaches lazily for Ranboo's hand, needing to feel him to believe it.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo grabs his comm from the pocket of his jacket, looking at the screen with a puzzled expression.]

Snowchester? What’s tha- Wait, why are we not in L’manburg?

[He does his best to ignore Tubbo’s hand in his, despite the purple flush rising in his face. This is fine, this is totally normal, he can be professional.]

[Tubbo absently wonders if the scarring from the burger van conflicts have faded with revival. He wonders how Ranboo's callouses have changed in the year- it had to have been a year- that he's been gone.]

[It's only after he thinks this that he processes Ranboo's words. His words hit like a bombshell to his chest, and his heart begins to race. Ranboo just forgets- that's okay- that's not a problem. At least Ranboo remembers him. That's what matters. He supposes it's been a long time- really it makes some sense, he's just-]

[Oh. He can't breathe.]

[Panic fills his chest and mind and his grip on Ranboo's hand tightens. He has to hold it with both hands, and the coldness is a little grounding, but it doesn't save him this terror.]

[He's been so alone for so long. He can't be safe, this can't be real, they have to go. He takes Ranboo's hand with all the strength he can muster and attempts to pull him to his home. They aren't safe out in the open.]

[He's only able to take two steps before he nearly trips over his own feet, gasping and gagging through the lack of air.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Whoa, whoa, Mr President slo- Tubbo!

[Tubbo’s change in balance nearly causes Ranboo to go toppling after him. He manages to catch the both of them, though, and presses his other hand on top of Tubbo’s.]

Hey, hey, come on man, breathe for me, breathe Tubbo.

[Ranboo catches him. He doesn't fall- he doesn't fall like in all of those nightmares where Ranboo comes back and then disappears just as easily, he's here. Ranboo is here. The notion almost makes him sicker.]

[His ears are ringing, his vision is blurred, but Ranboo is right here. He doesn't know what compells him, but because of that, he manages to find the air around him.]

[Gasp, exhale, repeat. Gasp, exhale, repeat. Breathe. Do it for Ranboo. Do it for Michael- Michael will be so excited to see his dad.]

[Ranboo's hands are cool and calloused. The sky is blue, but there's a storm rolling in. The snow beneath him is powdery. Ranboo's hands are real. Ranboo's looking at him concerned. Ranboo's hands. Sky, snow, hands.]

[They're not under attack.]

You died.

[His voice is weak, but it does the job, even if it cracks. Like a faulty mug.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Those words alone almost make him drop the former president on his ass in the snow.]

I- what?

[Now his mind is running, chasing circles around itself and begging himself to remember, remember, remember.]

Okay, we can- we can talk about that later, right now let’s just, uh, we can go somewhere warm okay? I can carry you, if you want? Let’s just get somewhere- somewhere safe, then we can talk.

[Tubbo shakes his head- and gets on his own two feet, supporting himself, and carefully lets go of Ranboo's hand. He gestures for the other to follow him, and leads the way to his little cottage.]

[You would expect him to live in the mansion. He can't afford that, a ghost lived there last he checked, and some bunny girl, too.]

[He unlocks the door, and holds it open.]

My house.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo has to duck his head to pass the doorframe, and he stands in the entryway politely. It’s a quaint little place, wood and wool and stone. It feels homey, feels like Tubbo.]

This is a really nice place, I love the, uh, the floors, the wood’s really great. Did you build it yourself?

[He knows he’s just talking to fill the silence, but he can’t stop himself. He wrings his hands nervously, and his tail swishes behind him.]

[Tubbo sighs, and he nods. During the walk he was able to collect his thoughts. Ranboo is alive. Ranboo is awkwardly fidgeting. Ranboo is just as wonderful as he remembers. Ranboo remembered him, in all that time away.]

Kind of. You helped me build parts of Snowchester- but, just so you know, 'm not really the president anymore, boss man. L'Manburg- well, it's sort of gone, haha.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Immediately, his ears perk up, the gold hanging from them swinging and shining in the light.]

Gone? What do you mean, gone? It can’t be-

[He stops, all movement ceasing. His heart nearly stops dead in his chest.]

How much am I missing?

[He blinks, considering his options. He could lie, tell Ranboo there wasn't that much that he missed, but then he'd have to leave out their marriage, their home, their son.]

[Their son. Maybe that would help, somehow.]

Oh, you know, not too too much. Do you remember Michael?

[He tries to keep his tone casual.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Michael... Michael, Michael...

[The name is so achingly familiar, it feels like a punch to the gut. There’s something there, something deep and instinctual connected to that name. But there’s no face tied to it, only a blank space where the memory should be.]

I’m not- I don’t- Uh-

Hey, that's okay. Don't worry. Come with me.

[He grabs a pole with a hook at the end, and hooks it onto a latch door above them. He pulls it open and a ladder comes quickly down, and he gestures for Ranboo to follow him up it.]

[There, a little baby piglin sits, staring out the open window at the coming storm, clutching a chicken plushie tightly to his chest.]

That's Michael.

[He says, when Ranboo joins him in the bedroom.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[The depth of just how much he’s missed hits him square in the chest, and it steals the air from his lungs.]

[Ranboo does not know this child.]

Oh, uh, hi Michael, nice to meet you.

[He raises a hand to wave awkwardly, then seems to pull into himself.]

Okay, the visit’s been great, thank you for having me, but I think I really should be going. If you could just point me in the direction of L’manburg, I’ll be out of your hair.

Ranboo, L'Manburg- it's not around anymore. Uh, Technoblade and Phil- and Dream, hah. They kind of blew it up, boss man.

[He puts a hand on Ranboo's arm, gently, slowly, making sure Ranboo can see his every move. Michael looks up, and his eye lights up. He runs over and begins babbling about something or other. Tubbo continues in a more hushed tone.]

That's our boy, Michael. We're raising him together. In- well, kind of in Snowchester. Maybe you should sit down and we can talk for longer.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo stumbles back a couple short steps, mind reeling.]

Okay, I get it, haha funny. Memory Boy doesn’t remember things, great joke. You can let it go now, man.

[He keeps glancing between Tubbo and Michael, at war with himself. Part of him wants to just go home, feed his cats and write about this weird dream in his memory book. But the other, much louder part of him knows these people, knows this place.]

[His tail lashes, and a nervous vrrr makes its way out of him.]

I love a good joke as much as the next guy, but I wouldn't joke about that, Ranboo.

[He thinks. Then he points.]

The crater is that way. Can you walk? I'll show you.

[Seeing is believing, he thinks. That's what made him believe Ranboo was dead, subsequently that he was alive. That would work fine.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

The crater?

[He follows Tubbo mainly on instinct, echoing countless days of following him around taking notes. They leave the house, Ranboo quiet by Tubbo’s side, and just for a moment things seem normal. Then Tubbo’s hand slips into his, casual as breathing, and Ranboo has to remember how to walk properly.]

[Tubbo worries this is too much, but he's more afraid of losing Ranboo again than keeping up some facade. It feels safe. It feels like a touch he missed more than anything.]

[They arrive at where the crater would be, and Tubbo almost passes out.]

This- but- where's-

[He sinks to his knees at the outskirts of his home- his hell- and he doesn't let go of Ranboo's hand.]

[He can hear echoes of laughter, and echoes of sobs, and he can almost see the TNT raining. But that much is all in his head.]

[The country can't be.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

What happened to this place?

[his eyes scour the landscape, familiar but still incredibly wrong. the edges of the buildings seem almost fuzzy, like a mirage. the cobblestones that make up the paths flicker between many different colors like TV static.]

something's- tubbo?

[Ranboo drops to the ground at Tubbo's side. always, always ready to catch him.]

Tubbo, hey, what's wrong? what's going on?

[Words are so hard, it feels like cotton is stuffing his throat shut, he can barely breathe. Michael deserves to see this, their home- Ranboo doesn't even seem to remember who he is- he can't do this.]

[He was strong enough to lose Ranboo. He isn't strong enough to have him there, taunting him, but have lost everything they had. He can't do it.]

[He's gone through the stages of grief, he's moved on, but now he's faced with two mirages- one of his home and hell, and one of his husband.]

[He's going to die of dehydration soon.]

[Sooner than he thinks, he realizes, as finally a tear slips down his cheek. It's not real. He knows it's not real. It'll be gone by the morning. He isn't sure if that makes it better.]

[The tears come faster.]

#until the darkness does recede [ranboounderscorebeloved]#resetverse

Tub- uh, Mr President! Hey, wait up!

-@ranboounderscorebeloved

[There's an echo in his ears. He gets them often. Little voices from the past, ringing and promising him a future which he never found, beckoning him to regress to the past.]

[His husband is dead. That can't be him, it's just a voice, keep walking, Tubbo. He thinks.]

[He figures it's an echo, at least, until he hears footsteps, crunching in the snow. He turns drawing his axe in case he has to wave off that stupid ghost again, but instead he just sees an all-too familiar face.]

Ranboo?

ranboounderscorebeloved

Mr President!

[Ranboo is about to run up to him, tail wagging, and stand close like he’s so used to doing (it’s only because the President can’t hear very well, that’s the only reason), but he stops short.]

Hey, uh, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! All respect of course- I’m sure you- And that’s not to say that-

[He drops the axe, and for a good minute, only stares. His lips part ever-so-slightly to truly convey his shock, and every emotion he could possibly feel festers in his belly.]

[He is thrilled. Oh gods, he could kiss Ranboo right now.]

[He is pissed. Who brought him back? Why did they wait so long?]

[He is in absolute denial. This can't be right.]

[He wants to sob against Ranboo's chest. He wants to scream. He wants to feel at peace for once.]

[He just stares instead. For just a moment, he moves to reach out and touch, but it's fairly quick that he takes it back. He can't handle this. He shouldn't have to. He's barely 19, for fucks sake.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Uncomfortable with the eye contact, Ranboo shifts his weight and swishes his tail. Was he missing something? Was there a memo that he was supposed to know about? Maybe there was a prank happening and he’d just ruined it?]

Look, Mr President, I hate to be rude but, uh, do you know where we are?

[he scratches the back of his neck and laughs awkwardly, hoping to dispel some of the tension.]

You know me and my memory issues, I must’ve wandered off and gotten lost...

[He opens his mouth to speak, and then shuts it. He can't cry, and he knows if he speaks there will be a floodgate kicked in.]

[He thinks maybe if words fail, he can just write something. He fishes his comm out of his pocket.]

Tubbo_ whispers to you: you are in Snowchester.

[His fingers tremble as he clicks the buttons, and between each letter he looks back at Ranboo to make sure he's real. When he finishes typing, he clips his comm to his belt, and reaches lazily for Ranboo's hand, needing to feel him to believe it.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo grabs his comm from the pocket of his jacket, looking at the screen with a puzzled expression.]

Snowchester? What’s tha- Wait, why are we not in L’manburg?

[He does his best to ignore Tubbo’s hand in his, despite the purple flush rising in his face. This is fine, this is totally normal, he can be professional.]

[Tubbo absently wonders if the scarring from the burger van conflicts have faded with revival. He wonders how Ranboo's callouses have changed in the year- it had to have been a year- that he's been gone.]

[It's only after he thinks this that he processes Ranboo's words. His words hit like a bombshell to his chest, and his heart begins to race. Ranboo just forgets- that's okay- that's not a problem. At least Ranboo remembers him. That's what matters. He supposes it's been a long time- really it makes some sense, he's just-]

[Oh. He can't breathe.]

[Panic fills his chest and mind and his grip on Ranboo's hand tightens. He has to hold it with both hands, and the coldness is a little grounding, but it doesn't save him this terror.]

[He's been so alone for so long. He can't be safe, this can't be real, they have to go. He takes Ranboo's hand with all the strength he can muster and attempts to pull him to his home. They aren't safe out in the open.]

[He's only able to take two steps before he nearly trips over his own feet, gasping and gagging through the lack of air.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Whoa, whoa, Mr President slo- Tubbo!

[Tubbo’s change in balance nearly causes Ranboo to go toppling after him. He manages to catch the both of them, though, and presses his other hand on top of Tubbo’s.]

Hey, hey, come on man, breathe for me, breathe Tubbo.

[Ranboo catches him. He doesn't fall- he doesn't fall like in all of those nightmares where Ranboo comes back and then disappears just as easily, he's here. Ranboo is here. The notion almost makes him sicker.]

[His ears are ringing, his vision is blurred, but Ranboo is right here. He doesn't know what compells him, but because of that, he manages to find the air around him.]

[Gasp, exhale, repeat. Gasp, exhale, repeat. Breathe. Do it for Ranboo. Do it for Michael- Michael will be so excited to see his dad.]

[Ranboo's hands are cool and calloused. The sky is blue, but there's a storm rolling in. The snow beneath him is powdery. Ranboo's hands are real. Ranboo's looking at him concerned. Ranboo's hands. Sky, snow, hands.]

[They're not under attack.]

You died.

[His voice is weak, but it does the job, even if it cracks. Like a faulty mug.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Those words alone almost make him drop the former president on his ass in the snow.]

I- what?

[Now his mind is running, chasing circles around itself and begging himself to remember, remember, remember.]

Okay, we can- we can talk about that later, right now let’s just, uh, we can go somewhere warm okay? I can carry you, if you want? Let’s just get somewhere- somewhere safe, then we can talk.

[Tubbo shakes his head- and gets on his own two feet, supporting himself, and carefully lets go of Ranboo's hand. He gestures for the other to follow him, and leads the way to his little cottage.]

[You would expect him to live in the mansion. He can't afford that, a ghost lived there last he checked, and some bunny girl, too.]

[He unlocks the door, and holds it open.]

My house.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo has to duck his head to pass the doorframe, and he stands in the entryway politely. It’s a quaint little place, wood and wool and stone. It feels homey, feels like Tubbo.]

This is a really nice place, I love the, uh, the floors, the wood’s really great. Did you build it yourself?

[He knows he’s just talking to fill the silence, but he can’t stop himself. He wrings his hands nervously, and his tail swishes behind him.]

[Tubbo sighs, and he nods. During the walk he was able to collect his thoughts. Ranboo is alive. Ranboo is awkwardly fidgeting. Ranboo is just as wonderful as he remembers. Ranboo remembered him, in all that time away.]

Kind of. You helped me build parts of Snowchester- but, just so you know, 'm not really the president anymore, boss man. L'Manburg- well, it's sort of gone, haha.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Immediately, his ears perk up, the gold hanging from them swinging and shining in the light.]

Gone? What do you mean, gone? It can’t be-

[He stops, all movement ceasing. His heart nearly stops dead in his chest.]

How much am I missing?

[He blinks, considering his options. He could lie, tell Ranboo there wasn't that much that he missed, but then he'd have to leave out their marriage, their home, their son.]

[Their son. Maybe that would help, somehow.]

Oh, you know, not too too much. Do you remember Michael?

[He tries to keep his tone casual.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Michael... Michael, Michael...

[The name is so achingly familiar, it feels like a punch to the gut. There’s something there, something deep and instinctual connected to that name. But there’s no face tied to it, only a blank space where the memory should be.]

I’m not- I don’t- Uh-

Hey, that's okay. Don't worry. Come with me.

[He grabs a pole with a hook at the end, and hooks it onto a latch door above them. He pulls it open and a ladder comes quickly down, and he gestures for Ranboo to follow him up it.]

[There, a little baby piglin sits, staring out the open window at the coming storm, clutching a chicken plushie tightly to his chest.]

That's Michael.

[He says, when Ranboo joins him in the bedroom.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[The depth of just how much he’s missed hits him square in the chest, and it steals the air from his lungs.]

[Ranboo does not know this child.]

Oh, uh, hi Michael, nice to meet you.

[He raises a hand to wave awkwardly, then seems to pull into himself.]

Okay, the visit’s been great, thank you for having me, but I think I really should be going. If you could just point me in the direction of L’manburg, I’ll be out of your hair.

Ranboo, L'Manburg- it's not around anymore. Uh, Technoblade and Phil- and Dream, hah. They kind of blew it up, boss man.

[He puts a hand on Ranboo's arm, gently, slowly, making sure Ranboo can see his every move. Michael looks up, and his eye lights up. He runs over and begins babbling about something or other. Tubbo continues in a more hushed tone.]

That's our boy, Michael. We're raising him together. In- well, kind of in Snowchester. Maybe you should sit down and we can talk for longer.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo stumbles back a couple short steps, mind reeling.]

Okay, I get it, haha funny. Memory Boy doesn’t remember things, great joke. You can let it go now, man.

[He keeps glancing between Tubbo and Michael, at war with himself. Part of him wants to just go home, feed his cats and write about this weird dream in his memory book. But the other, much louder part of him knows these people, knows this place.]

[His tail lashes, and a nervous vrrr makes its way out of him.]

I love a good joke as much as the next guy, but I wouldn't joke about that, Ranboo.

[He thinks. Then he points.]

The crater is that way. Can you walk? I'll show you.

[Seeing is believing, he thinks. That's what made him believe Ranboo was dead, subsequently that he was alive. That would work fine.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

The crater?

[He follows Tubbo mainly on instinct, echoing countless days of following him around taking notes. They leave the house, Ranboo quiet by Tubbo’s side, and just for a moment things seem normal. Then Tubbo’s hand slips into his, casual as breathing, and Ranboo has to remember how to walk properly.]

[Tubbo worries this is too much, but he's more afraid of losing Ranboo again than keeping up some facade. It feels safe. It feels like a touch he missed more than anything.]

[They arrive at where the crater would be, and Tubbo almost passes out.]

This- but- where's-

[He sinks to his knees at the outskirts of his home- his hell- and he doesn't let go of Ranboo's hand.]

[He can hear echoes of laughter, and echoes of sobs, and he can almost see the TNT raining. But that much is all in his head.]

[The country can't be.]

#until the darkness does recede [ranboounderscorebeloved]#resetverse

Tub- uh, Mr President! Hey, wait up!

-@ranboounderscorebeloved

[There's an echo in his ears. He gets them often. Little voices from the past, ringing and promising him a future which he never found, beckoning him to regress to the past.]

[His husband is dead. That can't be him, it's just a voice, keep walking, Tubbo. He thinks.]

[He figures it's an echo, at least, until he hears footsteps, crunching in the snow. He turns drawing his axe in case he has to wave off that stupid ghost again, but instead he just sees an all-too familiar face.]

Ranboo?

ranboounderscorebeloved

Mr President!

[Ranboo is about to run up to him, tail wagging, and stand close like he’s so used to doing (it’s only because the President can’t hear very well, that’s the only reason), but he stops short.]

Hey, uh, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! All respect of course- I’m sure you- And that’s not to say that-

[He drops the axe, and for a good minute, only stares. His lips part ever-so-slightly to truly convey his shock, and every emotion he could possibly feel festers in his belly.]

[He is thrilled. Oh gods, he could kiss Ranboo right now.]

[He is pissed. Who brought him back? Why did they wait so long?]

[He is in absolute denial. This can't be right.]

[He wants to sob against Ranboo's chest. He wants to scream. He wants to feel at peace for once.]

[He just stares instead. For just a moment, he moves to reach out and touch, but it's fairly quick that he takes it back. He can't handle this. He shouldn't have to. He's barely 19, for fucks sake.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Uncomfortable with the eye contact, Ranboo shifts his weight and swishes his tail. Was he missing something? Was there a memo that he was supposed to know about? Maybe there was a prank happening and he’d just ruined it?]

Look, Mr President, I hate to be rude but, uh, do you know where we are?

[he scratches the back of his neck and laughs awkwardly, hoping to dispel some of the tension.]

You know me and my memory issues, I must’ve wandered off and gotten lost...

[He opens his mouth to speak, and then shuts it. He can't cry, and he knows if he speaks there will be a floodgate kicked in.]

[He thinks maybe if words fail, he can just write something. He fishes his comm out of his pocket.]

Tubbo_ whispers to you: you are in Snowchester.

[His fingers tremble as he clicks the buttons, and between each letter he looks back at Ranboo to make sure he's real. When he finishes typing, he clips his comm to his belt, and reaches lazily for Ranboo's hand, needing to feel him to believe it.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo grabs his comm from the pocket of his jacket, looking at the screen with a puzzled expression.]

Snowchester? What’s tha- Wait, why are we not in L’manburg?

[He does his best to ignore Tubbo’s hand in his, despite the purple flush rising in his face. This is fine, this is totally normal, he can be professional.]

[Tubbo absently wonders if the scarring from the burger van conflicts have faded with revival. He wonders how Ranboo's callouses have changed in the year- it had to have been a year- that he's been gone.]

[It's only after he thinks this that he processes Ranboo's words. His words hit like a bombshell to his chest, and his heart begins to race. Ranboo just forgets- that's okay- that's not a problem. At least Ranboo remembers him. That's what matters. He supposes it's been a long time- really it makes some sense, he's just-]

[Oh. He can't breathe.]

[Panic fills his chest and mind and his grip on Ranboo's hand tightens. He has to hold it with both hands, and the coldness is a little grounding, but it doesn't save him this terror.]

[He's been so alone for so long. He can't be safe, this can't be real, they have to go. He takes Ranboo's hand with all the strength he can muster and attempts to pull him to his home. They aren't safe out in the open.]

[He's only able to take two steps before he nearly trips over his own feet, gasping and gagging through the lack of air.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Whoa, whoa, Mr President slo- Tubbo!

[Tubbo’s change in balance nearly causes Ranboo to go toppling after him. He manages to catch the both of them, though, and presses his other hand on top of Tubbo’s.]

Hey, hey, come on man, breathe for me, breathe Tubbo.

[Ranboo catches him. He doesn't fall- he doesn't fall like in all of those nightmares where Ranboo comes back and then disappears just as easily, he's here. Ranboo is here. The notion almost makes him sicker.]

[His ears are ringing, his vision is blurred, but Ranboo is right here. He doesn't know what compells him, but because of that, he manages to find the air around him.]

[Gasp, exhale, repeat. Gasp, exhale, repeat. Breathe. Do it for Ranboo. Do it for Michael- Michael will be so excited to see his dad.]

[Ranboo's hands are cool and calloused. The sky is blue, but there's a storm rolling in. The snow beneath him is powdery. Ranboo's hands are real. Ranboo's looking at him concerned. Ranboo's hands. Sky, snow, hands.]

[They're not under attack.]

You died.

[His voice is weak, but it does the job, even if it cracks. Like a faulty mug.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Those words alone almost make him drop the former president on his ass in the snow.]

I- what?

[Now his mind is running, chasing circles around itself and begging himself to remember, remember, remember.]

Okay, we can- we can talk about that later, right now let’s just, uh, we can go somewhere warm okay? I can carry you, if you want? Let’s just get somewhere- somewhere safe, then we can talk.

[Tubbo shakes his head- and gets on his own two feet, supporting himself, and carefully lets go of Ranboo's hand. He gestures for the other to follow him, and leads the way to his little cottage.]

[You would expect him to live in the mansion. He can't afford that, a ghost lived there last he checked, and some bunny girl, too.]

[He unlocks the door, and holds it open.]

My house.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo has to duck his head to pass the doorframe, and he stands in the entryway politely. It’s a quaint little place, wood and wool and stone. It feels homey, feels like Tubbo.]

This is a really nice place, I love the, uh, the floors, the wood’s really great. Did you build it yourself?

[He knows he’s just talking to fill the silence, but he can’t stop himself. He wrings his hands nervously, and his tail swishes behind him.]

[Tubbo sighs, and he nods. During the walk he was able to collect his thoughts. Ranboo is alive. Ranboo is awkwardly fidgeting. Ranboo is just as wonderful as he remembers. Ranboo remembered him, in all that time away.]

Kind of. You helped me build parts of Snowchester- but, just so you know, 'm not really the president anymore, boss man. L'Manburg- well, it's sort of gone, haha.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Immediately, his ears perk up, the gold hanging from them swinging and shining in the light.]

Gone? What do you mean, gone? It can’t be-

[He stops, all movement ceasing. His heart nearly stops dead in his chest.]

How much am I missing?

[He blinks, considering his options. He could lie, tell Ranboo there wasn't that much that he missed, but then he'd have to leave out their marriage, their home, their son.]

[Their son. Maybe that would help, somehow.]

Oh, you know, not too too much. Do you remember Michael?

[He tries to keep his tone casual.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Michael... Michael, Michael...

[The name is so achingly familiar, it feels like a punch to the gut. There’s something there, something deep and instinctual connected to that name. But there’s no face tied to it, only a blank space where the memory should be.]

I’m not- I don’t- Uh-

Hey, that's okay. Don't worry. Come with me.

[He grabs a pole with a hook at the end, and hooks it onto a latch door above them. He pulls it open and a ladder comes quickly down, and he gestures for Ranboo to follow him up it.]

[There, a little baby piglin sits, staring out the open window at the coming storm, clutching a chicken plushie tightly to his chest.]

That's Michael.

[He says, when Ranboo joins him in the bedroom.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[The depth of just how much he’s missed hits him square in the chest, and it steals the air from his lungs.]

[Ranboo does not know this child.]

Oh, uh, hi Michael, nice to meet you.

[He raises a hand to wave awkwardly, then seems to pull into himself.]

Okay, the visit’s been great, thank you for having me, but I think I really should be going. If you could just point me in the direction of L’manburg, I’ll be out of your hair.

Ranboo, L'Manburg- it's not around anymore. Uh, Technoblade and Phil- and Dream, hah. They kind of blew it up, boss man.

[He puts a hand on Ranboo's arm, gently, slowly, making sure Ranboo can see his every move. Michael looks up, and his eye lights up. He runs over and begins babbling about something or other. Tubbo continues in a more hushed tone.]

That's our boy, Michael. We're raising him together. In- well, kind of in Snowchester. Maybe you should sit down and we can talk for longer.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo stumbles back a couple short steps, mind reeling.]

Okay, I get it, haha funny. Memory Boy doesn’t remember things, great joke. You can let it go now, man.

[He keeps glancing between Tubbo and Michael, at war with himself. Part of him wants to just go home, feed his cats and write about this weird dream in his memory book. But the other, much louder part of him knows these people, knows this place.]

[His tail lashes, and a nervous vrrr makes its way out of him.]

I love a good joke as much as the next guy, but I wouldn't joke about that, Ranboo.

[He thinks. Then he points.]

The crater is that way. Can you walk? I'll show you.

[Seeing is believing, he thinks. That's what made him believe Ranboo was dead, subsequently that he was alive. That would work fine.]

#until the darkness does recede [ranboounderscorebeloved]#resetverse

Tub- uh, Mr President! Hey, wait up!

-@ranboounderscorebeloved

[There's an echo in his ears. He gets them often. Little voices from the past, ringing and promising him a future which he never found, beckoning him to regress to the past.]

[His husband is dead. That can't be him, it's just a voice, keep walking, Tubbo. He thinks.]

[He figures it's an echo, at least, until he hears footsteps, crunching in the snow. He turns drawing his axe in case he has to wave off that stupid ghost again, but instead he just sees an all-too familiar face.]

Ranboo?

ranboounderscorebeloved

Mr President!

[Ranboo is about to run up to him, tail wagging, and stand close like he’s so used to doing (it’s only because the President can’t hear very well, that’s the only reason), but he stops short.]

Hey, uh, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! All respect of course- I’m sure you- And that’s not to say that-

[He drops the axe, and for a good minute, only stares. His lips part ever-so-slightly to truly convey his shock, and every emotion he could possibly feel festers in his belly.]

[He is thrilled. Oh gods, he could kiss Ranboo right now.]

[He is pissed. Who brought him back? Why did they wait so long?]

[He is in absolute denial. This can't be right.]

[He wants to sob against Ranboo's chest. He wants to scream. He wants to feel at peace for once.]

[He just stares instead. For just a moment, he moves to reach out and touch, but it's fairly quick that he takes it back. He can't handle this. He shouldn't have to. He's barely 19, for fucks sake.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Uncomfortable with the eye contact, Ranboo shifts his weight and swishes his tail. Was he missing something? Was there a memo that he was supposed to know about? Maybe there was a prank happening and he’d just ruined it?]

Look, Mr President, I hate to be rude but, uh, do you know where we are?

[he scratches the back of his neck and laughs awkwardly, hoping to dispel some of the tension.]

You know me and my memory issues, I must’ve wandered off and gotten lost...

[He opens his mouth to speak, and then shuts it. He can't cry, and he knows if he speaks there will be a floodgate kicked in.]

[He thinks maybe if words fail, he can just write something. He fishes his comm out of his pocket.]

Tubbo_ whispers to you: you are in Snowchester.

[His fingers tremble as he clicks the buttons, and between each letter he looks back at Ranboo to make sure he's real. When he finishes typing, he clips his comm to his belt, and reaches lazily for Ranboo's hand, needing to feel him to believe it.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo grabs his comm from the pocket of his jacket, looking at the screen with a puzzled expression.]

Snowchester? What’s tha- Wait, why are we not in L’manburg?

[He does his best to ignore Tubbo’s hand in his, despite the purple flush rising in his face. This is fine, this is totally normal, he can be professional.]

[Tubbo absently wonders if the scarring from the burger van conflicts have faded with revival. He wonders how Ranboo's callouses have changed in the year- it had to have been a year- that he's been gone.]

[It's only after he thinks this that he processes Ranboo's words. His words hit like a bombshell to his chest, and his heart begins to race. Ranboo just forgets- that's okay- that's not a problem. At least Ranboo remembers him. That's what matters. He supposes it's been a long time- really it makes some sense, he's just-]

[Oh. He can't breathe.]

[Panic fills his chest and mind and his grip on Ranboo's hand tightens. He has to hold it with both hands, and the coldness is a little grounding, but it doesn't save him this terror.]

[He's been so alone for so long. He can't be safe, this can't be real, they have to go. He takes Ranboo's hand with all the strength he can muster and attempts to pull him to his home. They aren't safe out in the open.]

[He's only able to take two steps before he nearly trips over his own feet, gasping and gagging through the lack of air.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Whoa, whoa, Mr President slo- Tubbo!

[Tubbo’s change in balance nearly causes Ranboo to go toppling after him. He manages to catch the both of them, though, and presses his other hand on top of Tubbo’s.]

Hey, hey, come on man, breathe for me, breathe Tubbo.

[Ranboo catches him. He doesn't fall- he doesn't fall like in all of those nightmares where Ranboo comes back and then disappears just as easily, he's here. Ranboo is here. The notion almost makes him sicker.]

[His ears are ringing, his vision is blurred, but Ranboo is right here. He doesn't know what compells him, but because of that, he manages to find the air around him.]

[Gasp, exhale, repeat. Gasp, exhale, repeat. Breathe. Do it for Ranboo. Do it for Michael- Michael will be so excited to see his dad.]

[Ranboo's hands are cool and calloused. The sky is blue, but there's a storm rolling in. The snow beneath him is powdery. Ranboo's hands are real. Ranboo's looking at him concerned. Ranboo's hands. Sky, snow, hands.]

[They're not under attack.]

You died.

[His voice is weak, but it does the job, even if it cracks. Like a faulty mug.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Those words alone almost make him drop the former president on his ass in the snow.]

I- what?

[Now his mind is running, chasing circles around itself and begging himself to remember, remember, remember.]

Okay, we can- we can talk about that later, right now let’s just, uh, we can go somewhere warm okay? I can carry you, if you want? Let’s just get somewhere- somewhere safe, then we can talk.

[Tubbo shakes his head- and gets on his own two feet, supporting himself, and carefully lets go of Ranboo's hand. He gestures for the other to follow him, and leads the way to his little cottage.]

[You would expect him to live in the mansion. He can't afford that, a ghost lived there last he checked, and some bunny girl, too.]

[He unlocks the door, and holds it open.]

My house.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo has to duck his head to pass the doorframe, and he stands in the entryway politely. It’s a quaint little place, wood and wool and stone. It feels homey, feels like Tubbo.]

This is a really nice place, I love the, uh, the floors, the wood’s really great. Did you build it yourself?

[He knows he’s just talking to fill the silence, but he can’t stop himself. He wrings his hands nervously, and his tail swishes behind him.]

[Tubbo sighs, and he nods. During the walk he was able to collect his thoughts. Ranboo is alive. Ranboo is awkwardly fidgeting. Ranboo is just as wonderful as he remembers. Ranboo remembered him, in all that time away.]

Kind of. You helped me build parts of Snowchester- but, just so you know, 'm not really the president anymore, boss man. L'Manburg- well, it's sort of gone, haha.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Immediately, his ears perk up, the gold hanging from them swinging and shining in the light.]

Gone? What do you mean, gone? It can’t be-

[He stops, all movement ceasing. His heart nearly stops dead in his chest.]

How much am I missing?

[He blinks, considering his options. He could lie, tell Ranboo there wasn't that much that he missed, but then he'd have to leave out their marriage, their home, their son.]

[Their son. Maybe that would help, somehow.]

Oh, you know, not too too much. Do you remember Michael?

[He tries to keep his tone casual.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Michael... Michael, Michael...

[The name is so achingly familiar, it feels like a punch to the gut. There’s something there, something deep and instinctual connected to that name. But there’s no face tied to it, only a blank space where the memory should be.]

I’m not- I don’t- Uh-

Hey, that's okay. Don't worry. Come with me.

[He grabs a pole with a hook at the end, and hooks it onto a latch door above them. He pulls it open and a ladder comes quickly down, and he gestures for Ranboo to follow him up it.]

[There, a little baby piglin sits, staring out the open window at the coming storm, clutching a chicken plushie tightly to his chest.]

That's Michael.

[He says, when Ranboo joins him in the bedroom.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[The depth of just how much he’s missed hits him square in the chest, and it steals the air from his lungs.]

[Ranboo does not know this child.]

Oh, uh, hi Michael, nice to meet you.

[He raises a hand to wave awkwardly, then seems to pull into himself.]

Okay, the visit’s been great, thank you for having me, but I think I really should be going. If you could just point me in the direction of L’manburg, I’ll be out of your hair.

Ranboo, L'Manburg- it's not around anymore. Uh, Technoblade and Phil- and Dream, hah. They kind of blew it up, boss man.

[He puts a hand on Ranboo's arm, gently, slowly, making sure Ranboo can see his every move. Michael looks up, and his eye lights up. He runs over and begins babbling about something or other. Tubbo continues in a more hushed tone.]

That's our boy, Michael. We're raising him together. In- well, kind of in Snowchester. Maybe you should sit down and we can talk for longer.

#until the darkness does recede [ranboounderscorebeloved]#resetverse

Tub- uh, Mr President! Hey, wait up!

-@ranboounderscorebeloved

[There's an echo in his ears. He gets them often. Little voices from the past, ringing and promising him a future which he never found, beckoning him to regress to the past.]

[His husband is dead. That can't be him, it's just a voice, keep walking, Tubbo. He thinks.]

[He figures it's an echo, at least, until he hears footsteps, crunching in the snow. He turns drawing his axe in case he has to wave off that stupid ghost again, but instead he just sees an all-too familiar face.]

Ranboo?

ranboounderscorebeloved

Mr President!

[Ranboo is about to run up to him, tail wagging, and stand close like he’s so used to doing (it’s only because the President can’t hear very well, that’s the only reason), but he stops short.]

Hey, uh, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! All respect of course- I’m sure you- And that’s not to say that-

[He drops the axe, and for a good minute, only stares. His lips part ever-so-slightly to truly convey his shock, and every emotion he could possibly feel festers in his belly.]

[He is thrilled. Oh gods, he could kiss Ranboo right now.]

[He is pissed. Who brought him back? Why did they wait so long?]

[He is in absolute denial. This can't be right.]

[He wants to sob against Ranboo's chest. He wants to scream. He wants to feel at peace for once.]

[He just stares instead. For just a moment, he moves to reach out and touch, but it's fairly quick that he takes it back. He can't handle this. He shouldn't have to. He's barely 19, for fucks sake.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Uncomfortable with the eye contact, Ranboo shifts his weight and swishes his tail. Was he missing something? Was there a memo that he was supposed to know about? Maybe there was a prank happening and he’d just ruined it?]

Look, Mr President, I hate to be rude but, uh, do you know where we are?

[he scratches the back of his neck and laughs awkwardly, hoping to dispel some of the tension.]

You know me and my memory issues, I must’ve wandered off and gotten lost...

[He opens his mouth to speak, and then shuts it. He can't cry, and he knows if he speaks there will be a floodgate kicked in.]

[He thinks maybe if words fail, he can just write something. He fishes his comm out of his pocket.]

Tubbo_ whispers to you: you are in Snowchester.

[His fingers tremble as he clicks the buttons, and between each letter he looks back at Ranboo to make sure he's real. When he finishes typing, he clips his comm to his belt, and reaches lazily for Ranboo's hand, needing to feel him to believe it.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo grabs his comm from the pocket of his jacket, looking at the screen with a puzzled expression.]

Snowchester? What’s tha- Wait, why are we not in L’manburg?

[He does his best to ignore Tubbo’s hand in his, despite the purple flush rising in his face. This is fine, this is totally normal, he can be professional.]

[Tubbo absently wonders if the scarring from the burger van conflicts have faded with revival. He wonders how Ranboo's callouses have changed in the year- it had to have been a year- that he's been gone.]

[It's only after he thinks this that he processes Ranboo's words. His words hit like a bombshell to his chest, and his heart begins to race. Ranboo just forgets- that's okay- that's not a problem. At least Ranboo remembers him. That's what matters. He supposes it's been a long time- really it makes some sense, he's just-]

[Oh. He can't breathe.]

[Panic fills his chest and mind and his grip on Ranboo's hand tightens. He has to hold it with both hands, and the coldness is a little grounding, but it doesn't save him this terror.]

[He's been so alone for so long. He can't be safe, this can't be real, they have to go. He takes Ranboo's hand with all the strength he can muster and attempts to pull him to his home. They aren't safe out in the open.]

[He's only able to take two steps before he nearly trips over his own feet, gasping and gagging through the lack of air.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Whoa, whoa, Mr President slo- Tubbo!

[Tubbo’s change in balance nearly causes Ranboo to go toppling after him. He manages to catch the both of them, though, and presses his other hand on top of Tubbo’s.]

Hey, hey, come on man, breathe for me, breathe Tubbo.

[Ranboo catches him. He doesn't fall- he doesn't fall like in all of those nightmares where Ranboo comes back and then disappears just as easily, he's here. Ranboo is here. The notion almost makes him sicker.]

[His ears are ringing, his vision is blurred, but Ranboo is right here. He doesn't know what compells him, but because of that, he manages to find the air around him.]

[Gasp, exhale, repeat. Gasp, exhale, repeat. Breathe. Do it for Ranboo. Do it for Michael- Michael will be so excited to see his dad.]

[Ranboo's hands are cool and calloused. The sky is blue, but there's a storm rolling in. The snow beneath him is powdery. Ranboo's hands are real. Ranboo's looking at him concerned. Ranboo's hands. Sky, snow, hands.]

[They're not under attack.]

You died.

[His voice is weak, but it does the job, even if it cracks. Like a faulty mug.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Those words alone almost make him drop the former president on his ass in the snow.]

I- what?

[Now his mind is running, chasing circles around itself and begging himself to remember, remember, remember.]

Okay, we can- we can talk about that later, right now let’s just, uh, we can go somewhere warm okay? I can carry you, if you want? Let’s just get somewhere- somewhere safe, then we can talk.

[Tubbo shakes his head- and gets on his own two feet, supporting himself, and carefully lets go of Ranboo's hand. He gestures for the other to follow him, and leads the way to his little cottage.]

[You would expect him to live in the mansion. He can't afford that, a ghost lived there last he checked, and some bunny girl, too.]

[He unlocks the door, and holds it open.]

My house.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo has to duck his head to pass the doorframe, and he stands in the entryway politely. It’s a quaint little place, wood and wool and stone. It feels homey, feels like Tubbo.]

This is a really nice place, I love the, uh, the floors, the wood’s really great. Did you build it yourself?

[He knows he’s just talking to fill the silence, but he can’t stop himself. He wrings his hands nervously, and his tail swishes behind him.]

[Tubbo sighs, and he nods. During the walk he was able to collect his thoughts. Ranboo is alive. Ranboo is awkwardly fidgeting. Ranboo is just as wonderful as he remembers. Ranboo remembered him, in all that time away.]

Kind of. You helped me build parts of Snowchester- but, just so you know, 'm not really the president anymore, boss man. L'Manburg- well, it's sort of gone, haha.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Immediately, his ears perk up, the gold hanging from them swinging and shining in the light.]

Gone? What do you mean, gone? It can’t be-

[He stops, all movement ceasing. His heart nearly stops dead in his chest.]

How much am I missing?

[He blinks, considering his options. He could lie, tell Ranboo there wasn't that much that he missed, but then he'd have to leave out their marriage, their home, their son.]

[Their son. Maybe that would help, somehow.]

Oh, you know, not too too much. Do you remember Michael?

[He tries to keep his tone casual.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Michael... Michael, Michael...

[The name is so achingly familiar, it feels like a punch to the gut. There’s something there, something deep and instinctual connected to that name. But there’s no face tied to it, only a blank space where the memory should be.]

I’m not- I don’t- Uh-

Hey, that's okay. Don't worry. Come with me.

[He grabs a pole with a hook at the end, and hooks it onto a latch door above them. He pulls it open and a ladder comes quickly down, and he gestures for Ranboo to follow him up it.]

[There, a little baby piglin sits, staring out the open window at the coming storm, clutching a chicken plushie tightly to his chest.]

That's Michael.

[He says, when Ranboo joins him in the bedroom.]

#until the darkness does recede [ranboounderscorebeloved]#resetverse

Tub- uh, Mr President! Hey, wait up!

-@ranboounderscorebeloved

[There's an echo in his ears. He gets them often. Little voices from the past, ringing and promising him a future which he never found, beckoning him to regress to the past.]

[His husband is dead. That can't be him, it's just a voice, keep walking, Tubbo. He thinks.]

[He figures it's an echo, at least, until he hears footsteps, crunching in the snow. He turns drawing his axe in case he has to wave off that stupid ghost again, but instead he just sees an all-too familiar face.]

Ranboo?

ranboounderscorebeloved

Mr President!

[Ranboo is about to run up to him, tail wagging, and stand close like he’s so used to doing (it’s only because the President can’t hear very well, that’s the only reason), but he stops short.]

Hey, uh, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! All respect of course- I’m sure you- And that’s not to say that-

[He drops the axe, and for a good minute, only stares. His lips part ever-so-slightly to truly convey his shock, and every emotion he could possibly feel festers in his belly.]

[He is thrilled. Oh gods, he could kiss Ranboo right now.]

[He is pissed. Who brought him back? Why did they wait so long?]

[He is in absolute denial. This can't be right.]

[He wants to sob against Ranboo's chest. He wants to scream. He wants to feel at peace for once.]

[He just stares instead. For just a moment, he moves to reach out and touch, but it's fairly quick that he takes it back. He can't handle this. He shouldn't have to. He's barely 19, for fucks sake.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Uncomfortable with the eye contact, Ranboo shifts his weight and swishes his tail. Was he missing something? Was there a memo that he was supposed to know about? Maybe there was a prank happening and he’d just ruined it?]

Look, Mr President, I hate to be rude but, uh, do you know where we are?

[he scratches the back of his neck and laughs awkwardly, hoping to dispel some of the tension.]

You know me and my memory issues, I must’ve wandered off and gotten lost...

[He opens his mouth to speak, and then shuts it. He can't cry, and he knows if he speaks there will be a floodgate kicked in.]

[He thinks maybe if words fail, he can just write something. He fishes his comm out of his pocket.]

Tubbo_ whispers to you: you are in Snowchester.

[His fingers tremble as he clicks the buttons, and between each letter he looks back at Ranboo to make sure he's real. When he finishes typing, he clips his comm to his belt, and reaches lazily for Ranboo's hand, needing to feel him to believe it.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo grabs his comm from the pocket of his jacket, looking at the screen with a puzzled expression.]

Snowchester? What’s tha- Wait, why are we not in L’manburg?

[He does his best to ignore Tubbo’s hand in his, despite the purple flush rising in his face. This is fine, this is totally normal, he can be professional.]

[Tubbo absently wonders if the scarring from the burger van conflicts have faded with revival. He wonders how Ranboo's callouses have changed in the year- it had to have been a year- that he's been gone.]

[It's only after he thinks this that he processes Ranboo's words. His words hit like a bombshell to his chest, and his heart begins to race. Ranboo just forgets- that's okay- that's not a problem. At least Ranboo remembers him. That's what matters. He supposes it's been a long time- really it makes some sense, he's just-]

[Oh. He can't breathe.]

[Panic fills his chest and mind and his grip on Ranboo's hand tightens. He has to hold it with both hands, and the coldness is a little grounding, but it doesn't save him this terror.]

[He's been so alone for so long. He can't be safe, this can't be real, they have to go. He takes Ranboo's hand with all the strength he can muster and attempts to pull him to his home. They aren't safe out in the open.]

[He's only able to take two steps before he nearly trips over his own feet, gasping and gagging through the lack of air.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Whoa, whoa, Mr President slo- Tubbo!

[Tubbo’s change in balance nearly causes Ranboo to go toppling after him. He manages to catch the both of them, though, and presses his other hand on top of Tubbo’s.]

Hey, hey, come on man, breathe for me, breathe Tubbo.

[Ranboo catches him. He doesn't fall- he doesn't fall like in all of those nightmares where Ranboo comes back and then disappears just as easily, he's here. Ranboo is here. The notion almost makes him sicker.]

[His ears are ringing, his vision is blurred, but Ranboo is right here. He doesn't know what compells him, but because of that, he manages to find the air around him.]

[Gasp, exhale, repeat. Gasp, exhale, repeat. Breathe. Do it for Ranboo. Do it for Michael- Michael will be so excited to see his dad.]

[Ranboo's hands are cool and calloused. The sky is blue, but there's a storm rolling in. The snow beneath him is powdery. Ranboo's hands are real. Ranboo's looking at him concerned. Ranboo's hands. Sky, snow, hands.]

[They're not under attack.]

You died.

[His voice is weak, but it does the job, even if it cracks. Like a faulty mug.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Those words alone almost make him drop the former president on his ass in the snow.]

I- what?

[Now his mind is running, chasing circles around itself and begging himself to remember, remember, remember.]

Okay, we can- we can talk about that later, right now let’s just, uh, we can go somewhere warm okay? I can carry you, if you want? Let’s just get somewhere- somewhere safe, then we can talk.

[Tubbo shakes his head- and gets on his own two feet, supporting himself, and carefully lets go of Ranboo's hand. He gestures for the other to follow him, and leads the way to his little cottage.]

[You would expect him to live in the mansion. He can't afford that, a ghost lived there last he checked, and some bunny girl, too.]

[He unlocks the door, and holds it open.]

My house.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo has to duck his head to pass the doorframe, and he stands in the entryway politely. It’s a quaint little place, wood and wool and stone. It feels homey, feels like Tubbo.]

This is a really nice place, I love the, uh, the floors, the wood’s really great. Did you build it yourself?

[He knows he’s just talking to fill the silence, but he can’t stop himself. He wrings his hands nervously, and his tail swishes behind him.]

[Tubbo sighs, and he nods. During the walk he was able to collect his thoughts. Ranboo is alive. Ranboo is awkwardly fidgeting. Ranboo is just as wonderful as he remembers. Ranboo remembered him, in all that time away.]

Kind of. You helped me build parts of Snowchester- but, just so you know, 'm not really the president anymore, boss man. L'Manburg- well, it's sort of gone, haha.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Immediately, his ears perk up, the gold hanging from them swinging and shining in the light.]

Gone? What do you mean, gone? It can’t be-

[He stops, all movement ceasing. His heart nearly stops dead in his chest.]

How much am I missing?

[He blinks, considering his options. He could lie, tell Ranboo there wasn't that much that he missed, but then he'd have to leave out their marriage, their home, their son.]

[Their son. Maybe that would help, somehow.]

Oh, you know, not too too much. Do you remember Michael?

[He tries to keep his tone casual.]

#until the darkness does recede [ranboounderscorebeloved]#resetverse

Tub- uh, Mr President! Hey, wait up!

-@ranboounderscorebeloved

[There's an echo in his ears. He gets them often. Little voices from the past, ringing and promising him a future which he never found, beckoning him to regress to the past.]

[His husband is dead. That can't be him, it's just a voice, keep walking, Tubbo. He thinks.]

[He figures it's an echo, at least, until he hears footsteps, crunching in the snow. He turns drawing his axe in case he has to wave off that stupid ghost again, but instead he just sees an all-too familiar face.]

Ranboo?

ranboounderscorebeloved

Mr President!

[Ranboo is about to run up to him, tail wagging, and stand close like he’s so used to doing (it’s only because the President can’t hear very well, that’s the only reason), but he stops short.]

Hey, uh, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! All respect of course- I’m sure you- And that’s not to say that-

[He drops the axe, and for a good minute, only stares. His lips part ever-so-slightly to truly convey his shock, and every emotion he could possibly feel festers in his belly.]

[He is thrilled. Oh gods, he could kiss Ranboo right now.]

[He is pissed. Who brought him back? Why did they wait so long?]

[He is in absolute denial. This can't be right.]

[He wants to sob against Ranboo's chest. He wants to scream. He wants to feel at peace for once.]

[He just stares instead. For just a moment, he moves to reach out and touch, but it's fairly quick that he takes it back. He can't handle this. He shouldn't have to. He's barely 19, for fucks sake.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Uncomfortable with the eye contact, Ranboo shifts his weight and swishes his tail. Was he missing something? Was there a memo that he was supposed to know about? Maybe there was a prank happening and he’d just ruined it?]

Look, Mr President, I hate to be rude but, uh, do you know where we are?

[he scratches the back of his neck and laughs awkwardly, hoping to dispel some of the tension.]

You know me and my memory issues, I must’ve wandered off and gotten lost...

[He opens his mouth to speak, and then shuts it. He can't cry, and he knows if he speaks there will be a floodgate kicked in.]

[He thinks maybe if words fail, he can just write something. He fishes his comm out of his pocket.]

Tubbo_ whispers to you: you are in Snowchester.

[His fingers tremble as he clicks the buttons, and between each letter he looks back at Ranboo to make sure he's real. When he finishes typing, he clips his comm to his belt, and reaches lazily for Ranboo's hand, needing to feel him to believe it.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo grabs his comm from the pocket of his jacket, looking at the screen with a puzzled expression.]

Snowchester? What’s tha- Wait, why are we not in L’manburg?

[He does his best to ignore Tubbo’s hand in his, despite the purple flush rising in his face. This is fine, this is totally normal, he can be professional.]

[Tubbo absently wonders if the scarring from the burger van conflicts have faded with revival. He wonders how Ranboo's callouses have changed in the year- it had to have been a year- that he's been gone.]

[It's only after he thinks this that he processes Ranboo's words. His words hit like a bombshell to his chest, and his heart begins to race. Ranboo just forgets- that's okay- that's not a problem. At least Ranboo remembers him. That's what matters. He supposes it's been a long time- really it makes some sense, he's just-]

[Oh. He can't breathe.]

[Panic fills his chest and mind and his grip on Ranboo's hand tightens. He has to hold it with both hands, and the coldness is a little grounding, but it doesn't save him this terror.]

[He's been so alone for so long. He can't be safe, this can't be real, they have to go. He takes Ranboo's hand with all the strength he can muster and attempts to pull him to his home. They aren't safe out in the open.]

[He's only able to take two steps before he nearly trips over his own feet, gasping and gagging through the lack of air.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Whoa, whoa, Mr President slo- Tubbo!

[Tubbo’s change in balance nearly causes Ranboo to go toppling after him. He manages to catch the both of them, though, and presses his other hand on top of Tubbo’s.]

Hey, hey, come on man, breathe for me, breathe Tubbo.

[Ranboo catches him. He doesn't fall- he doesn't fall like in all of those nightmares where Ranboo comes back and then disappears just as easily, he's here. Ranboo is here. The notion almost makes him sicker.]

[His ears are ringing, his vision is blurred, but Ranboo is right here. He doesn't know what compells him, but because of that, he manages to find the air around him.]

[Gasp, exhale, repeat. Gasp, exhale, repeat. Breathe. Do it for Ranboo. Do it for Michael- Michael will be so excited to see his dad.]

[Ranboo's hands are cool and calloused. The sky is blue, but there's a storm rolling in. The snow beneath him is powdery. Ranboo's hands are real. Ranboo's looking at him concerned. Ranboo's hands. Sky, snow, hands.]

[They're not under attack.]

You died.

[His voice is weak, but it does the job, even if it cracks. Like a faulty mug.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Those words alone almost make him drop the former president on his ass in the snow.]

I- what?

[Now his mind is running, chasing circles around itself and begging himself to remember, remember, remember.]

Okay, we can- we can talk about that later, right now let’s just, uh, we can go somewhere warm okay? I can carry you, if you want? Let’s just get somewhere- somewhere safe, then we can talk.

[Tubbo shakes his head- and gets on his own two feet, supporting himself, and carefully lets go of Ranboo's hand. He gestures for the other to follow him, and leads the way to his little cottage.]

[You would expect him to live in the mansion. He can't afford that, a ghost lived there last he checked, and some bunny girl, too.]

[He unlocks the door, and holds it open.]

My house.

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo has to duck his head to pass the doorframe, and he stands in the entryway politely. It’s a quaint little place, wood and wool and stone. It feels homey, feels like Tubbo.]

This is a really nice place, I love the, uh, the floors, the wood’s really great. Did you build it yourself?

[He knows he’s just talking to fill the silence, but he can’t stop himself. He wrings his hands nervously, and his tail swishes behind him.]

[Tubbo sighs, and he nods. During the walk he was able to collect his thoughts. Ranboo is alive. Ranboo is awkwardly fidgeting. Ranboo is just as wonderful as he remembers. Ranboo remembered him, in all that time away.]

Kind of. You helped me build parts of Snowchester- but, just so you know, 'm not really the president anymore, boss man. L'Manburg- well, it's sort of gone, haha.

#until the darkness does recede [ranboounderscorebeloved]#resetverse

Tub- uh, Mr President! Hey, wait up!

-@ranboounderscorebeloved

[There's an echo in his ears. He gets them often. Little voices from the past, ringing and promising him a future which he never found, beckoning him to regress to the past.]

[His husband is dead. That can't be him, it's just a voice, keep walking, Tubbo. He thinks.]

[He figures it's an echo, at least, until he hears footsteps, crunching in the snow. He turns drawing his axe in case he has to wave off that stupid ghost again, but instead he just sees an all-too familiar face.]

Ranboo?

ranboounderscorebeloved

Mr President!

[Ranboo is about to run up to him, tail wagging, and stand close like he’s so used to doing (it’s only because the President can’t hear very well, that’s the only reason), but he stops short.]

Hey, uh, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! All respect of course- I’m sure you- And that’s not to say that-

[He drops the axe, and for a good minute, only stares. His lips part ever-so-slightly to truly convey his shock, and every emotion he could possibly feel festers in his belly.]

[He is thrilled. Oh gods, he could kiss Ranboo right now.]

[He is pissed. Who brought him back? Why did they wait so long?]

[He is in absolute denial. This can't be right.]

[He wants to sob against Ranboo's chest. He wants to scream. He wants to feel at peace for once.]

[He just stares instead. For just a moment, he moves to reach out and touch, but it's fairly quick that he takes it back. He can't handle this. He shouldn't have to. He's barely 19, for fucks sake.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Uncomfortable with the eye contact, Ranboo shifts his weight and swishes his tail. Was he missing something? Was there a memo that he was supposed to know about? Maybe there was a prank happening and he’d just ruined it?]

Look, Mr President, I hate to be rude but, uh, do you know where we are?

[he scratches the back of his neck and laughs awkwardly, hoping to dispel some of the tension.]

You know me and my memory issues, I must’ve wandered off and gotten lost...

[He opens his mouth to speak, and then shuts it. He can't cry, and he knows if he speaks there will be a floodgate kicked in.]

[He thinks maybe if words fail, he can just write something. He fishes his comm out of his pocket.]

Tubbo_ whispers to you: you are in Snowchester.

[His fingers tremble as he clicks the buttons, and between each letter he looks back at Ranboo to make sure he's real. When he finishes typing, he clips his comm to his belt, and reaches lazily for Ranboo's hand, needing to feel him to believe it.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo grabs his comm from the pocket of his jacket, looking at the screen with a puzzled expression.]

Snowchester? What’s tha- Wait, why are we not in L’manburg?

[He does his best to ignore Tubbo’s hand in his, despite the purple flush rising in his face. This is fine, this is totally normal, he can be professional.]

[Tubbo absently wonders if the scarring from the burger van conflicts have faded with revival. He wonders how Ranboo's callouses have changed in the year- it had to have been a year- that he's been gone.]

[It's only after he thinks this that he processes Ranboo's words. His words hit like a bombshell to his chest, and his heart begins to race. Ranboo just forgets- that's okay- that's not a problem. At least Ranboo remembers him. That's what matters. He supposes it's been a long time- really it makes some sense, he's just-]

[Oh. He can't breathe.]

[Panic fills his chest and mind and his grip on Ranboo's hand tightens. He has to hold it with both hands, and the coldness is a little grounding, but it doesn't save him this terror.]

[He's been so alone for so long. He can't be safe, this can't be real, they have to go. He takes Ranboo's hand with all the strength he can muster and attempts to pull him to his home. They aren't safe out in the open.]

[He's only able to take two steps before he nearly trips over his own feet, gasping and gagging through the lack of air.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Whoa, whoa, Mr President slo- Tubbo!

[Tubbo’s change in balance nearly causes Ranboo to go toppling after him. He manages to catch the both of them, though, and presses his other hand on top of Tubbo’s.]

Hey, hey, come on man, breathe for me, breathe Tubbo.

[Ranboo catches him. He doesn't fall- he doesn't fall like in all of those nightmares where Ranboo comes back and then disappears just as easily, he's here. Ranboo is here. The notion almost makes him sicker.]

[His ears are ringing, his vision is blurred, but Ranboo is right here. He doesn't know what compells him, but because of that, he manages to find the air around him.]

[Gasp, exhale, repeat. Gasp, exhale, repeat. Breathe. Do it for Ranboo. Do it for Michael- Michael will be so excited to see his dad.]

[Ranboo's hands are cool and calloused. The sky is blue, but there's a storm rolling in. The snow beneath him is powdery. Ranboo's hands are real. Ranboo's looking at him concerned. Ranboo's hands. Sky, snow, hands.]

[They're not under attack.]

You died.

[His voice is weak, but it does the job, even if it cracks. Like a faulty mug.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Those words alone almost make him drop the former president on his ass in the snow.]

I- what?

[Now his mind is running, chasing circles around itself and begging himself to remember, remember, remember.]

Okay, we can- we can talk about that later, right now let’s just, uh, we can go somewhere warm okay? I can carry you, if you want? Let’s just get somewhere- somewhere safe, then we can talk.

[Tubbo shakes his head- and gets on his own two feet, supporting himself, and carefully lets go of Ranboo's hand. He gestures for the other to follow him, and leads the way to his little cottage.]

[You would expect him to live in the mansion. He can't afford that, a ghost lived there last he checked, and some bunny girl, too.]

[He unlocks the door, and holds it open.]

My house.

#thread 1: tagging system coming soon #resetverse

Tub- uh, Mr President! Hey, wait up!

-@ranboounderscorebeloved

[There's an echo in his ears. He gets them often. Little voices from the past, ringing and promising him a future which he never found, beckoning him to regress to the past.]

[His husband is dead. That can't be him, it's just a voice, keep walking, Tubbo. He thinks.]

[He figures it's an echo, at least, until he hears footsteps, crunching in the snow. He turns drawing his axe in case he has to wave off that stupid ghost again, but instead he just sees an all-too familiar face.]

Ranboo?

ranboounderscorebeloved

Mr President!

[Ranboo is about to run up to him, tail wagging, and stand close like he’s so used to doing (it’s only because the President can’t hear very well, that’s the only reason), but he stops short.]

Hey, uh, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! All respect of course- I’m sure you- And that’s not to say that-

[He drops the axe, and for a good minute, only stares. His lips part ever-so-slightly to truly convey his shock, and every emotion he could possibly feel festers in his belly.]

[He is thrilled. Oh gods, he could kiss Ranboo right now.]

[He is pissed. Who brought him back? Why did they wait so long?]

[He is in absolute denial. This can't be right.]

[He wants to sob against Ranboo's chest. He wants to scream. He wants to feel at peace for once.]

[He just stares instead. For just a moment, he moves to reach out and touch, but it's fairly quick that he takes it back. He can't handle this. He shouldn't have to. He's barely 19, for fucks sake.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Uncomfortable with the eye contact, Ranboo shifts his weight and swishes his tail. Was he missing something? Was there a memo that he was supposed to know about? Maybe there was a prank happening and he’d just ruined it?]

Look, Mr President, I hate to be rude but, uh, do you know where we are?

[he scratches the back of his neck and laughs awkwardly, hoping to dispel some of the tension.]

You know me and my memory issues, I must’ve wandered off and gotten lost...

[He opens his mouth to speak, and then shuts it. He can't cry, and he knows if he speaks there will be a floodgate kicked in.]

[He thinks maybe if words fail, he can just write something. He fishes his comm out of his pocket.]

Tubbo_ whispers to you: you are in Snowchester.

[His fingers tremble as he clicks the buttons, and between each letter he looks back at Ranboo to make sure he's real. When he finishes typing, he clips his comm to his belt, and reaches lazily for Ranboo's hand, needing to feel him to believe it.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo grabs his comm from the pocket of his jacket, looking at the screen with a puzzled expression.]

Snowchester? What’s tha- Wait, why are we not in L’manburg?

[He does his best to ignore Tubbo’s hand in his, despite the purple flush rising in his face. This is fine, this is totally normal, he can be professional.]

[Tubbo absently wonders if the scarring from the burger van conflicts have faded with revival. He wonders how Ranboo's callouses have changed in the year- it had to have been a year- that he's been gone.]

[It's only after he thinks this that he processes Ranboo's words. His words hit like a bombshell to his chest, and his heart begins to race. Ranboo just forgets- that's okay- that's not a problem. At least Ranboo remembers him. That's what matters. He supposes it's been a long time- really it makes some sense, he's just-]

[Oh. He can't breathe.]

[Panic fills his chest and mind and his grip on Ranboo's hand tightens. He has to hold it with both hands, and the coldness is a little grounding, but it doesn't save him this terror.]

[He's been so alone for so long. He can't be safe, this can't be real, they have to go. He takes Ranboo's hand with all the strength he can muster and attempts to pull him to his home. They aren't safe out in the open.]

[He's only able to take two steps before he nearly trips over his own feet, gasping and gagging through the lack of air.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

Whoa, whoa, Mr President slo- Tubbo!

[Tubbo’s change in balance nearly causes Ranboo to go toppling after him. He manages to catch the both of them, though, and presses his other hand on top of Tubbo’s.]

Hey, hey, come on man, breathe for me, breathe Tubbo.

[Ranboo catches him. He doesn't fall- he doesn't fall like in all of those nightmares where Ranboo comes back and then disappears just as easily, he's here. Ranboo is here. The notion almost makes him sicker.]

[His ears are ringing, his vision is blurred, but Ranboo is right here. He doesn't know what compells him, but because of that, he manages to find the air around him.]

[Gasp, exhale, repeat. Gasp, exhale, repeat. Breathe. Do it for Ranboo. Do it for Michael- Michael will be so excited to see his dad.]

[Ranboo's hands are cool and calloused. The sky is blue, but there's a storm rolling in. The snow beneath him is powdery. Ranboo's hands are real. Ranboo's looking at him concerned. Ranboo's hands. Sky, snow, hands.]

[They're not under attack.]

You died.

[His voice is weak, but it does the job, even if it cracks. Like a faulty mug.]

#thread 1: tagging system coming soon #resetverse

Tub- uh, Mr President! Hey, wait up!

-@ranboounderscorebeloved

[There's an echo in his ears. He gets them often. Little voices from the past, ringing and promising him a future which he never found, beckoning him to regress to the past.]

[His husband is dead. That can't be him, it's just a voice, keep walking, Tubbo. He thinks.]

[He figures it's an echo, at least, until he hears footsteps, crunching in the snow. He turns drawing his axe in case he has to wave off that stupid ghost again, but instead he just sees an all-too familiar face.]

Ranboo?

ranboounderscorebeloved

Mr President!

[Ranboo is about to run up to him, tail wagging, and stand close like he’s so used to doing (it’s only because the President can’t hear very well, that’s the only reason), but he stops short.]

Hey, uh, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! All respect of course- I’m sure you- And that’s not to say that-

[He drops the axe, and for a good minute, only stares. His lips part ever-so-slightly to truly convey his shock, and every emotion he could possibly feel festers in his belly.]

[He is thrilled. Oh gods, he could kiss Ranboo right now.]

[He is pissed. Who brought him back? Why did they wait so long?]

[He is in absolute denial. This can't be right.]

[He wants to sob against Ranboo's chest. He wants to scream. He wants to feel at peace for once.]

[He just stares instead. For just a moment, he moves to reach out and touch, but it's fairly quick that he takes it back. He can't handle this. He shouldn't have to. He's barely 19, for fucks sake.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Uncomfortable with the eye contact, Ranboo shifts his weight and swishes his tail. Was he missing something? Was there a memo that he was supposed to know about? Maybe there was a prank happening and he’d just ruined it?]

Look, Mr President, I hate to be rude but, uh, do you know where we are?

[he scratches the back of his neck and laughs awkwardly, hoping to dispel some of the tension.]

You know me and my memory issues, I must’ve wandered off and gotten lost...

[He opens his mouth to speak, and then shuts it. He can't cry, and he knows if he speaks there will be a floodgate kicked in.]

[He thinks maybe if words fail, he can just write something. He fishes his comm out of his pocket.]

Tubbo_ whispers to you: you are in Snowchester.

[His fingers tremble as he clicks the buttons, and between each letter he looks back at Ranboo to make sure he's real. When he finishes typing, he clips his comm to his belt, and reaches lazily for Ranboo's hand, needing to feel him to believe it.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Ranboo grabs his comm from the pocket of his jacket, looking at the screen with a puzzled expression.]

Snowchester? What’s tha- Wait, why are we not in L’manburg?

[He does his best to ignore Tubbo’s hand in his, despite the purple flush rising in his face. This is fine, this is totally normal, he can be professional.]

[Tubbo absently wonders if the scarring from the burger van conflicts have faded with revival. He wonders how Ranboo's callouses have changed in the year- it had to have been a year- that he's been gone.]

[It's only after he thinks this that he processes Ranboo's words. His words hit like a bombshell to his chest, and his heart begins to race. Ranboo just forgets- that's okay- that's not a problem. At least Ranboo remembers him. That's what matters. He supposes it's been a long time- really it makes some sense, he's just-]

[Oh. He can't breathe.]

[Panic fills his chest and mind and his grip on Ranboo's hand tightens. He has to hold it with both hands, and the coldness is a little grounding, but it doesn't save him this terror.]

[He's been so alone for so long. He can't be safe, this can't be real, they have to go. He takes Ranboo's hand with all the strength he can muster and attempts to pull him to his home. They aren't safe out in the open.]

[He's only able to take two steps before he nearly trips over his own feet, gasping and gagging through the lack of air.]

#tw panic attack #resetverse #thread 1: tagging system coming soon

Tub- uh, Mr President! Hey, wait up!

-@ranboounderscorebeloved

[There's an echo in his ears. He gets them often. Little voices from the past, ringing and promising him a future which he never found, beckoning him to regress to the past.]

[His husband is dead. That can't be him, it's just a voice, keep walking, Tubbo. He thinks.]

[He figures it's an echo, at least, until he hears footsteps, crunching in the snow. He turns drawing his axe in case he has to wave off that stupid ghost again, but instead he just sees an all-too familiar face.]

Ranboo?

ranboounderscorebeloved

Mr President!

[Ranboo is about to run up to him, tail wagging, and stand close like he’s so used to doing (it’s only because the President can’t hear very well, that’s the only reason), but he stops short.]

Hey, uh, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! All respect of course- I’m sure you- And that’s not to say that-

[He drops the axe, and for a good minute, only stares. His lips part ever-so-slightly to truly convey his shock, and every emotion he could possibly feel festers in his belly.]

[He is thrilled. Oh gods, he could kiss Ranboo right now.]

[He is pissed. Who brought him back? Why did they wait so long?]

[He is in absolute denial. This can't be right.]

[He wants to sob against Ranboo's chest. He wants to scream. He wants to feel at peace for once.]

[He just stares instead. For just a moment, he moves to reach out and touch, but it's fairly quick that he takes it back. He can't handle this. He shouldn't have to. He's barely 19, for fucks sake.]

ranboounderscorebeloved

[Uncomfortable with the eye contact, Ranboo shifts his weight and swishes his tail. Was he missing something? Was there a memo that he was supposed to know about? Maybe there was a prank happening and he’d just ruined it?]

Look, Mr President, I hate to be rude but, uh, do you know where we are?

[he scratches the back of his neck and laughs awkwardly, hoping to dispel some of the tension.]

You know me and my memory issues, I must’ve wandered off and gotten lost...

[He opens his mouth to speak, and then shuts it. He can't cry, and he knows if he speaks there will be a floodgate kicked in.]

[He thinks maybe if words fail, he can just write something. He fishes his comm out of his pocket.]

Tubbo_ whispers to you: you are in Snowchester.

[His fingers tremble as he clicks the buttons, and between each letter he looks back at Ranboo to make sure he's real. When he finishes typing, he clips his comm to his belt, and reaches lazily for Ranboo's hand, needing to feel him to believe it.]

#thread 1: tagging system coming soon #resetverse

Tub- uh, Mr President! Hey, wait up!

-@ranboounderscorebeloved

[There's an echo in his ears. He gets them often. Little voices from the past, ringing and promising him a future which he never found, beckoning him to regress to the past.]

[His husband is dead. That can't be him, it's just a voice, keep walking, Tubbo. He thinks.]

[He figures it's an echo, at least, until he hears footsteps, crunching in the snow. He turns drawing his axe in case he has to wave off that stupid ghost again, but instead he just sees an all-too familiar face.]

Ranboo?

ranboounderscorebeloved

Mr President!

[Ranboo is about to run up to him, tail wagging, and stand close like he’s so used to doing (it’s only because the President can’t hear very well, that’s the only reason), but he stops short.]

Hey, uh, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! All respect of course- I’m sure you- And that’s not to say that-

[He drops the axe, and for a good minute, only stares. His lips part ever-so-slightly to truly convey his shock, and every emotion he could possibly feel festers in his belly.]

[He is thrilled. Oh gods, he could kiss Ranboo right now.]

[He is pissed. Who brought him back? Why did they wait so long?]

[He is in absolute denial. This can't be right.]

[He wants to sob against Ranboo's chest. He wants to scream. He wants to feel at peace for once.]

[He just stares instead. For just a moment, he moves to reach out and touch, but it's fairly quick that he takes it back. He can't handle this. He shouldn't have to. He's barely 19, for fucks sake.]

#resetverse #thread 1: tagging system coming soon

I am nobody; I have nothing to do with explosions. @tubbos - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag