She/her/hers They/them/theirs Just here for fun! I love almost anything g/t. I will join a fandom I know nothing about if it has extra g/t content. And yet I still hide it like a drug habit. Go figure
Series That Will Probably Eventually Someday Be Continued
Pest Problem (1): Tubbo is a borrower that bothers Ranboo. Ranboo is a human trying not to strangle Tubbo.
Words: 496
He's A Bad Witch (1): Tommy is a witch who accidentally turns Technoblade into a hamster.
Words: 1,748
Ophidiophobia:
Ophidiophobia (1): Tommy is a bird hybrid with a fear of snakes living in a naga's territory.
Words: 1,711
Ophidiophobia (2)
Words: 2,144
Ophidiophobia (3)
Words: 1,934
Intergalactic Abductees:
Tubbo (1): Tubbo has been abducted by giant aliens, separated from his best friend, and thrown into a small cell with a terrifying creature. Was it physically possible for things to get any worse?
Words: 1,018
Tubbo (2)
Words: 1,764
Tubbo (3)
Words: 1,341
Ranboo (1)
Words: 1,414
Tommy (1): Tommy just barely escapes his imprisonment on an alien spacecraft with his life intact. Now his captors have all fled, leaving him in the hands of the explorers scavenging their ship.
Words: 2,193
Tommy (2)
Words: 1,283
Pocket-Sized Sidekick (1): Ranboo is a sidekick ready to take on his first solo patrol. If only he grabbed the right suit on his way out...and didn't bump into one of the most fearsome villains around.
Words: 2,365
Pocket-Sized Sidekick (2)
Words: 1,970
Pocket-Sized Sidekick (3)
Words: 1,829
One Shots
Cold Nights And Fox Friends: Dream is a tiny bird hybrid caught in a storm. The only shelter he finds is a cave occupied by two fox hybrids.
Words: 1,432
The Prince And The Gardener: Dream is a fairy trying to tend to the flowers in the royal courtyard. George is a prince looking for a place to hide from his overbearing royal babysitter.
TW's: Angst, Fear, Mentions of Bile, Needles/Syringes, Dehumanization, Referring to a Person as an "It", Mentions of Selling/Buying People, Mentions of Suffocation, Mild Violence
Characters: C!Tommyinnit
Summary: A pixie finds himself in a strange new world full of people who aren't quite...real
Aka: I putted pixies and robots into a blender :)
I accidentally posted the unrevised version so surprise reupload with some really tiny changes (no pun intended)
“How do we even know this thing is safe?”
“We don’t. That’s why we’re putting this in first.”
Blinding light flooded through the glass and Tommy blinked hard to clear the purple spots from his sight. Warped faces stared down at him from beyond rounded walls. If it were the first time he was on display, he might’ve bothered to tell them off. He’d learned the hard way that within the confines of that jar, he’d only hurt his own ears trying something like that. All he could do was glower up at them with the fury of a thousand suns and throw silent promises of bloodshed whenever he was given the opportunity.
The pixie had begun developing a list. It was the only thing that kept him sane most nights he spent there. Once he got a little bigger and a little meaner, he’d pay everyone who wronged him a visit to return the favor tenfold. Of course, the list had grown impossible to keep track of as the days crawled on. Even if he could’ve somehow written it down, he would’ve been just as likely to run out of ink as he was space on the page.
“How do we get it back after?”
“We don’t. We just watch through its eyes.”
Tommy had been pretty lost through the whole conversation but that part was what really threw him for a loop. What exactly were they planning? The lid was hastily unscrewed overtop him and tossed onto the table. He went limp as a doll when he felt rough fingers seize his waist. The tiny bite marks littering the offending digits served as a testament to his every attempt at rebellion.
Tommy’s stomach lurched as he was lifted up far too close to the man’s face for comfort.
“Per oculos creaturae.”
By the time the realization of the warlock’s intentions dawned on Tommy, it was already too late. The man’s irises lit up a sickly yellow. His magic was cold, unyielding no matter how hard Tommy’s biological defenses pushed against it. A yellow haze blurred the edges of his vision.
“There. Now I can see everything it does,” the magician announced. When the pale light faded from the man’s eyes, so did the fog around Tommy’s. A surveillance spell. Of course. They'd already pinned his wings and locked him away in a jar. Why not strip him of the only part of himself that was still his own?
“What if it closes its eyes?”
The warlock paused to glare at his companion.
“Yes, I’m sure that it’ll just keep its eyes shut the whole time it’s in another dimension because who would possibly want to look around in a place like that?”
Alright, alright. I was just asking,” the warlock’s elven companion insisted.
“Just light the candles,” the other snapped.
Another dimension? This was bad. Really bad. Tommy had been all over the lands, though most of his travels took place against his own volition. But this? This was a whole new animal. A world that could’ve been made completely out of lava, for all anyone knew. He’d be so far from the place he grew up in. So…far…
The flurry of panic in Tommy’s mind dissolved all at once like candy floss in water.
He’d be so far from this place.
A whole other world where nobody from the old one could reach him. Hell, if it was just a world of fire, it would still be a step up from the fantastical wasteland he’d grown up in. The pieces of a terrible plan were slowly falling into place.
Tommy was haphazardly dropped onto the table as the rest of the preparations were made around him. They had no reason to keep such a close eye on him. He was just a dumb pixie that they’d snuffed the spirit from. What could he possibly get up to? He scanned the desktop for anything useful. Since the place was a mess, it wasn’t difficult to find a myriad of different objects. Enchanted items, spell tomes, potions, gryphon claws, phoenix feathers, and-
Tommy fought a smirk.
An unattended glass of milk. The cure-all for nearly every spell, enchantment, and curse alike. He wasn’t the type to count his hippogriff eggs before they hatched but this…well, it would take more skill to mess it up than succeed. He glanced over his shoulder. The men scrambled about the study, neither one paying an inkling of attention to him.
With a final breath to steel his nerves, he scrambled up to his feet. He staggered, immediately tripping his own feet to land right back where he started. Walking was apparently a task easier said than done with the clothespin weighing down his wings. Alright. Scooching it was.
His eyes were fixated on the pair of busybodies still rummaging about the drawer, slowly sliding backwards. He nearly flinched when he bumped against something solid. It wobbled as he nudged it and he could only cringe and pray it wouldn’t spill.
He rose to shaky feet, barely using the glass to support his weight. He dared to turn around only for a split second to hoist himself up over the cup’s rim. The glass trembled beneath him. He only needed a little. A desperate hand reached for the drink a tantalizing distance away, the other hand braced against the cup to keep him steady. He dipped his fingers into the lukewarm liquid, hastily smearing it across his tongue. It was a drop but it was enough. More than enough.
His very veins flushed, cleansed of the unwelcome spell that had previously permeated through them.
He fought a sigh of relief as he scrambled to return to his previous position on the table just as the men returned.
“Ready?” the magician asked.
“Ready,” the elf replied.
Ready,
The elf kissed his fingertips, pressing them to each of the wicks of the candles in the enchanted circle. Warm flames gradually flickered to life. Tears of black wax spilled down onto the finished wood below. The warlock picked up a knife and slashed a clean line across his palm, shallow and long. Crimson liquid dribbled onto the lead rune.
Beams of violet light had already sprung to life before the warlocks had even begun his enchantment. His eyes were screwed shut as the slew of nonsense spilled from his lips straight into the circle of symbols. A jittery current rippled through the desk beneath Tommy.
One by one, the red flames blinked violet. The thrum of magic in the air was so heavy that Tommy could feel it in his chest. The objects littering the desk shook as the power grew focused and concentrated, draining into the waiting runes.
The light was blinding. A swirling vortex of purple and pink flashed like strobes, forming a hole in the center of the table. A hole with no perceivable bottom. Tommy had never been more tempted to throw himself straight into something. But he had to wait. Just a little longer.
“Holy Fates! It’s working!” the elf exclaimed.
The warlock's hands weakly dropped onto the table. He panted like he’d just run a mile.
“Unclip it and drop it in,” the exhausted man instructed.
A hand reached for Tommy.
“Wait!”
The elf’s fingers fell just short of the pix. The warlock’s face grew tense, eyelids fluttering in strain.
“The spell’s not working,” he said, paling in realization. His attention snapped to Tommy. That was all the motivation the pixie needed.
He heaved his body backwards, launching himself into the swirling void of color. A hand lashed out towards him. The massive fist closed around the air mere inches away from him. He laughed hysterically as he shot up double middle fingers at the two men gawking down at him.
“Later, dickheads!” he shouted. And, in all honesty, he didn’t care what he found or didn’t find on the other side of that portal because just seeing the looks on their faces made the entire risk worthwhile.
The world unraveled around him, sealing him away in the mass of colors. The constant strobes made it hard to keep his eyes open. The haphazard motion of his body being jostled about was nearly enough to give him whiplash. There was no end to the tangle of colors. The same, repeating pattern of hues went on for what very well could’ve been miles. Tommy was never much of a gymnast but the amount of backflips he did in that moment would’ve put any acrobat to shame.
All at once, it went still.
Well, all except Tommy.
His stomach dropped into his feet as he plummeted through the air. He flailed about wildly in a desperate attempt to steady himself. It was all futile as he was stuck in a constant state of tumbling. He probably screamed. In all honesty, he couldn’t hear a thing over the roar of the wind in his ears.
The first thing he registered was the wetness. The thing that finally broke his fall was wet. And freezing. And suffocating. Between the iron clothespin threatening to drag himself further into the depths and the residual vertigo from the fall, he didn’t stand a chance of finding the surface. By sheer luck, his feet hit something solid. He didn’t hesitate to use it as a launchpad. As soon as his face breached the water, he swallowed down a much needed gulp of air.
He threw himself onto the solid rim he found surrounding him, arms gelatin beneath him. He hacked so hard he could’ve sworn he’d sprained a lung-if that was even possible. All the water he’d stolen returned to its source and then some. Residual bile burned at the back of his throat. Between the erratic rise and fall of his chest, Tommy managed a single phrase.
“Holy shit.”
He slouched against the porcelain edge. The world around him was…bizarre. A normal enough blue sky with normal enough clouds and green grass below but that was about where the similarities between their worlds ended.
A deep red building was incongruous with the green lawn and white flora.He couldn’t even tell what material the thing was made of. Fashioned into sharp, rectangular shapes, the wall was adorned with panels that were almost a bizarre imitation of wood.
He sure would’ve loved to get a closer look. He glowered at the clothespin holding his wings captive, reaching at it with desperate fingers to no avail. He huffed. Maybe he could convince some local to take it off for him but finding someone would probably involve actually getting to the ground-a task easier said than done given that whatever dish of water he’d landed in was cradled in a pillar just tall enough to make a drop from that height lethal.
Great.
He was officially stranded.
Tommy’s ears twitched at the sound of a door opening. When he looked up, he found the glass door on the side of the building was all wrong. It didn’t pull in or push out. It slid. The pixie’s mouth fell open in utter shock. The person who stepped outside was wrong, too. Though they looked like your average common elf-sans the pointed ears-they didn’t move right.
Swathed in a ridiculous monochrome outfit, the woman made a b-line for him with feet that walked in a perfectly straight line. Her arms swung ever so slightly with every step, flawless face adorned with a smile that looked like it had been plastered right on there when she was born and hadn’t been removed since. The eerie grin left ehr full set of polished white teeth on full display.
Tommy froze.
He should’ve run. Definitely should’ve.
But he couldn’t.
Even if he wasn’t stuck suspended high up in the air, he was petrified by the unsettling woman before him. She stopped a few feet short of Tommy and bent down at the waist. Even the angle of her posture was too perfect. Was this thing even a person? It sure did look like one but Tommy could’ve sworn her chest wasn’t even moving.
Like she wasn’t breathing.
He was looking at her chest for scientific purposes, of course.
“Source of motion in custom name ‘birdbath’ identified,” she announced. Tommy’s eyes darted about the yard in search of who she was talking to only to find it entirely vacant beyond the two of them. “Scanning.”
Tommy went rigid as brown eyes lit up an icy blue. She looked him up and down. The gesture was probably the most familiar thing he had yet to experience in that place. It was like they were sizing him up to buy him.
“Scan complete. Organic lifeform not found in database. Blood sample required for further analysis.”
Did she say blood?
His stomach twisted in knots as she held up her hand. A narrow, metal needle emerged from the tip of her index finger, glinting menacingly in the sunlight.
Tommy ducked just in time to evade the needle that cut through the air above him. No way the people around here had weapons built into their skin! How unfair was that?
He dragged himself up further onto the very ledge of the porcelain dish. Though his body was made even heavier by the addition of extra water, he managed to hoist himself up onto the back of her hand. He shuddered at the feeling of skin too smooth and unmalleable to belong to something living.
She didn’t even have veins. What exactly was this thing?
He didn’t have much time to stand around and wonder. She reached for him with her opposite hand. He raced straight up her arm, hardly finding enough traction to run. His saving grace was her sleeve. He twisted the sleek fabric in his fists with every intention of gracefully descending until the woman bucked like a montaur.
In an instant, he was on the ground. He couldn’t even remember the fall. Every fleeting thought of clarity in his muddled mind scrambled at him to run so that was what he did. The dirt beneath his feet shook with the woman’s every step as she started after him.
Unfortunately for her, evasion was quite possibly the only skill he’d retained throughout his whole life. Granted, it had failed him in the past, but that made him stronger. Smarter. He narrowly escaped her swiping hands. Her fingers grazed the clothespin restraining his wings as he dove through the hole in the picket fence.
Tommy half expected her to barrel through the wooden fence but she didn’t. He peered through the slit between pickets only to watch her stop dead in her tracks, turn around, and simply walk right back into her home.
He let out a sigh of relief.
“Organic lifeform not found in database. Blood sample required for further analysis.”
The voice hit him like a stone to the teeth. He forced himself to move, turning to find a man in the exact same uniform as the woman.
The creature…whatever it was-be it a mimic or duplication spell gone wrong-walked towards him with that bone chilling gait. Tommy was catching on to the way of this world very quickly. He would just have to keep moving. Running, hiding, sleeping with one eye open if he ever got to sleep at all. And maybe in that sense, it all felt nostalgic.
A grim reminder that no matter what world he escaped to, he was condemned to the very same fate spent fleeing and scavenging. A pest across every universe. And if he ever got a moment’s peace, it could only mean that something was terribly, terribly wrong.
~
Sorry again about reupload but I got it all figured out this time...maybe >:)
Summary: Ranboo's officially been de-masked in front of a group of villains. At least that means things can't get any worse...right?
Ranboo drew in a hissing breath between his teeth.
"Would you please sit still? I'm not used to doing stitches on people this small."
That was one of the first things Ranboo learned about Wilbur. He never held anything back. Frankly, it was becoming a challenge for Ranboo to hold back everything he wanted to say in retaliation. He'd been laying there getting stabbed by a needle nearly as tall as him for at least half an hour. Even with the attempt at numbing the area, it felt like an eternity.
"You did stitches on a cat once," the Blood God pointed out. He'd been idly clicking through something on the laptop sitting on the kitchen counter. Ranboo was surprised he'd been paying attention at all given how engrossed he'd seemed it whatever he was reading on that screen.
"You are aware that cats are larger than six inches tall, right?" Wilbur snapped.
"Small is small."
The brunette let out a frustrated huff.
"Phil told you not to bother me."
"He did but he was givin' me those 'don't let Wilbur out of your sight' eyes."
"He was not."
"You just don't notice because he's always got that look."
"Done!" Wilbur announced with a final snip. Ranboo could only assume that meant that was the last bit of thread being cut. Should he be thanking this guy for what he'd done? Sure, he'd tended to his injuries but he was still a villain. Thanking a villain was probably listed on the unspoken rules of being a hero right between being kidnapped by a villain and showing your face to a villain.
He slowly pushed himself to sit upright. His bruises still stung like crazy but at least the majority of his fractures had been dealt with and cuts bandaged. Wilbur never really shared his assessment of Ranboo's injuries but from the repetitive "Yeesh" 's from the villain, he could only imagine there was a lot of work to be done.
Wilbur scooped his jacket up off the back of the couch.
"Where are you going?" the Blood God demanded.
The brunette threw a guitar case over his shoulder.
"Out," he announced vaguely.
"Aren't you supposed to be looking after the kid?"
Wilbur rummaged through the cubbies next to the door until he uncovered a pair of keys from the clutter.
"Phil told me to clean him up. He's about as good as he's going to get so I'm out of here." Wilbur paused on the way out to shoot the Blood God a look over his shoulder. A coy smile tugged on his lips. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be fine until Phil comes back. You're great with kids."
Wilbur managed to yank the door shut behind him just as a dagger lodged itself in the wood where his head was only seconds ago. The brunette's laughter retreated into the night, making way for a tense silence to fall over the house. Ranboo's teeth ground together.
He dared to sneak a peek at the villain sitting only a single room over. It was odd. Ranboo knew that Corvus was a supervillain but he walked around out of costume in his own house. That made sense. Wilbur was a villain by association at the very least but if he worked in the field, he probably had a costume too. Not once had he donned in it while Ranboo was there.
The Blood God, on the other hand, had yet to change out of that signature uniform of his. The cape, the skull, the gaudy boots. The whole package was admittedly a bit too extra to be typical loungewear. If it was all for the sake of ensuring Ranboo was kept on edge then, damn, it was working.
The boar's skull snapped in Ranboo's direction. The abrupt motion caused an instinctual reaction in the sidekick, sending him scrambling to focus on literally anything else in the room. The villain sighed.
"So why's Hero Corps exploiting child labor? Indoctrinating adults into their little cape cult get too pricey?" he asked.
Nothing about that question was accurate but it wasn't like Ranboo was in any position to correct him. He wasn't sure he was in a position to say anything, honestly. So he didn't.
"What, did that one hypno-hero hit you with a tongue tying spell or somethin'? What's he like? Fun at parties?"
The beats of silence passed at an agonizingly slow pace for both parties trapped within the tense atmosphere. The Blood God groaned.
"Come on, kid, give me somethin' here," he practically begged.
Ranboo shifted uncomfortably. There was nothing he could say that he wouldn't be reprimanded for when he got back to HQ. If he got back to HQ. As scary a prospect as that was, the fact that he was more likely to never get home was even scarier.
"W-why the skull mask?" Ranboo tried. Maybe if he couldn't answer questions, asking them would help pass the time a bit quicker for the both of them.
"What, this?" The Blood God asked, drumming his fingernails against hollow bone. Ranboo nodded meekly. The villain's insouciant demeanor went dismal all at once. "It's not a mask. It's just my face."
The sidekick's blood ran ice cold. He couldn't even hide his mortified expression when he turned back to the man in the kitchen. What? How was that even possible? Sure, people got bizarre mutations when super powers started popping up but this had to be one of the strangest ones that Ranboo had ever seen. Not even the attributes of a bore, just its skull where your head should have been? It made his stomach churn thinking about how that worked.
The Blood God snorted.
"I'm messing with you," he chuckled.
He was...oh. The sidekick's shoulders sagged. As indignant as Ranboo was to be toyed with, he had to admit that it was a relief knowing it was all a farce. He hadn't even realized his jaw had dropped open until he shut it with a click. He couldn't help but laugh, though his was more incredulous than a product of the Blood God's sense of humor-if you could even call it that.
"Just thought it was a cool gimmick, I guess. Didn't wanna look like every other loser in a mask and a cape. What about you? They force you to wear that fashion faux-pax of a suit or are you just really into gray?"
"It's a uniform," Ranboo said. He couldn't think of a single sinister thing that the guy could do with that sort of information beyond mocking him a little further.
"Of course it is. Is that where you get your shrinking power from, too?"
Ranboo stiffened. Momentary distraction over. The villain really was just trying to pry info out of him. Of course he was. That was literally his job. He wasn't really as mad at the guy for nearly getting him to give up some top secret Hero Corps info as much as he was at himself for almost doing it.
The way the color drained from Ranboo's face must have given away the answer to that intrusive question all the same.
"Don't mean to sound like a jackass but you don't really handle yourself like a hero who's used to being small. I mean, I did see you get punted across an alleyway so..."
Ranboo fought to keep his expression flat. Maybe that was the reason all those heroes wore masks; to hide just how scared the poor bastards behind them were. Ranboo wished more than anything that his helmet wasn't cracked to pieces so he could shove it back on and leave it there.
"If it's broken, we can try to fix it," the Blood God pointed out.
"No! You can't touch it!" Ranboo blurted, grabbing the suit from beside him and holding it in a white-knuckled grip. The last thing he needed was to hand over some of Hero Corps' most advanced tech to their most dangerous competition.
It took far too long for Ranboo to actually realize what he'd done. When it dawned on him, it hit him like a brick to the teeth. His heart stuttered in his chest. Maybe yelling at his villainous captor wasn't really the smartest idea. He knew what happened when he raised his voice. One of the first lessons he'd learned under Dream's guidance. And that was when he was a fairly normal height.
Standing only a few inches tall in front of someone with far worse intentions than his mentor's, he didn't stand a chance of making it out alive.
"Geez, alright. I was just offerin'," the villain muttered. "Figured this whole thing might be a little easier if you weren't six inches tall."
Sure, like Ranboo was going to believe that this guy had nothing but good intentions towards the hero's sidekick he had in his possession. Then again, he wasn't wrong about his height putting him at a stark disadvantage. At six inches tall, the Blood God could probably just pry the suit out of his hands. As a matter of fact, Ranboo couldn't wrap his head around why he had yet to try.
"Hey, are you-"
Vvv Vvv
Saved by the buzz. Whatever question the Blood God was about to ask was swiftly interrupted by the vibration against the counter. He grabbed his phone. He went tense when he saw the screen. Without a word, he rose to his feet and slid the window behind him open.
He double checked the laces on his boots and the sword sheathed on his hip. Ranboo flinched at the squawk from just beyond the house. Wings beat at the air, a crow dipping in straight through the open window to land on the counter.
"Lead the way," the Blood God instructed.
The black bird tilted its head, turning over its shoulder to stare straight at Ranboo. A chill crawled up his spine at the extra attention.
"Oh, right. You-uh-you stay here," the villain commanded with all the conviction of a man who'd never held a leadership position. "I gotta go help Phil but I'll be back real soon."
Ranboo could only nod in reply. The villain dawdled. He stared at Ranboo a while longer, the sidekick doing his best not to meet the supervillain's sweeping gaze.
"'kay. Let's go," he tried again. The bird let out an ear-shattering squawk before claiming its perch atop the Blood God's shoulder. He slid out the door, ensuring that he clicked the lock into place on his way out.
The hero-in-training swallowed thickly. The silence was even more deafening than before. This certainly wasn't on his bucket list. He was all alone in a supervillain's hideout.
His eyes darted about the vacant space, snagging on the window over the sink. Wait. He was all alone in a supervillain's hideout. The curtains waved in the breeze, beckoning him forward. He'd be a fool not to answer that call.
~
College is kicking my butt so upload schedule is insanely chaotic but thank you to everyone who waited for this next part! :)
I don’t know if you read sanders sides things, but Delimeful and Random_sanders_sides_gt on ao3 have some very good g/t writing, with similar vibes to yours!!! I think you should check them out!!
Thank you! I take this as such a huge compliment! Delimeful's work is what first got me into g/t! I will have to check out the other person, though, thanks for the rec :D
Summary: As Ranboo begins to settle back into life with his crewmates, their most recent, bizarre addition is still recovering.
(Prepare to be confused by some alien species names that I came up with while I was high.)
"Ranboo?"
The boy in the hall went stiff.
"You can come in."
Ranboo's teeth ground together as he ducked into the room.
"Was I breathing that loud?" he asked.
The blonde Avisien offered him a soft smile. No matter how many times you got a smile from that man, it never failed to feel like a supernova. Explosive. Bright. Warm.
"I could hear your tail against the floor," Philza informed him.
"Oh."
Ranboo chuckled sheepishly, shooting a glower at the wiry tail in question. He swore the thing had a mind of its own. It flicked to the side in that moment just to spite him. Philza nudged one of the chairs out from beneath the metal table. He pointedly tossed his head towards it. Ranboo didn't need to be told twice. He dropped into the hard chair. Techno had promised to swipe some better ones next time they landed on Flurr. The planet was so wealthy that they wouldn't even notice if their whole home was relieved of its lavish furniture.
Of course, Techno had never gotten around to it before the incident at the market. From that moment forward, their lack of comfy chairs was the least of their worries.
Ranboo leaned over the table to get a better look at the limp figure.
"Has he woken up yet?" he inquired quietly.
It wasn't exactly unusual for Ranboo to find him sleeping. He'd watched over the reckless little bastard for the majority of his time spent in the trafficker's shuttle. But this felt different. Tubbo wasn't tossing or turning or making weird guttural noises. He was stiff.
He looked dead.
"No. I got the measurement on the dosage right this time around," Philza assured him. "I didn't want to overdo it with how small he is but I guess I underestimated his species' biological capabilities. Scaled the damn cabinet with a sedative in his veins and two broken ribs. I've never seen anything like it. I wonder if this has anything to do with it."
Philza lightly tapped the bizarre, hardened lower half of Tubbo's leg.
"What is it?" Ranboo asked.
Philza squinted.
"Mm, if I had to guess, I'd say it's a limb replacement. Or cover? Enhancement? I didn't want to mess with it too much. Clever design but primitive hardware. Maybe I'll have Techno take a look at it. More his department than mine."
The winged man dipped another swab into the yellow goo beside him. He dabbed at the stitching along Tubbo's chest and paused to watch it dissolve into the unconscious boy's skin.
"Most of our medicines haven't worked on him but at least he seems to be taking well to the disinfectant," Philza remarked. He twisted the lid back onto the metal tin and stacked it on top of all the others.
He'd nearly gone through his entire collection of menders and repairants trying to find one that was even semi-effective. In the end, he had to do things the old fashioned way with frustratingly tiny plates and screws for the busted bones and a bit of medical thread and a needle to finish it off.
"How are you doing?" Philza inquired, looking up at Ranboo for the first time during their conversation.
"Oh. I'm fine! No more burns," the Endlocke assured him. He held freshly healed hands up for emphasis.
"No, I mean how you doing, mate," the man amended.
"Ah. Um, yeah, still fine. Just...glad to be home."
"We're glad to have you back. Listen, if you ever want to talk about what happened, I'm here."
Some part of Ranboo felt that even if he did talk about it, Philza wouldn't understand. But a far larger part of him knew that his two crewmates were likely the only two people in the whole galaxy who could understand.
"You know what still kind of bugs me?" Ranboo said. Philza nodded encouragingly. "He didn't even leave."
Philza could practically feel the desperation for a subject change radiating off of fidgety dual-toned boy. Not the time to push the issue, he figured.
"Who?"
"Tubbo. I mean, they opened those doors a lot and he was probably small enough to sneak out. But he didn't. Didn't even try."
Philza glanced down at the Terran in consideration. He hummed.
"Well, he had the gall to chuck a screw at a Cantaris just get his attention so he obviously cares about you."
Ranboo couldn't help but laugh at that. How brilliantly in character for Tubbo to approach a literal war species and throw something at them. Even after the little guy had hurt himself. Far too self-sacrificing for his own good since the get-go. That's why Ranboo's hearts shattered when he saw Tubbo looking at him like that. Philza assured him it was the result of panic at seeing the syringe but it didn't make a difference.
Ranboo had known Tubbo for more cycles than he could keep track of and in all that time, he'd never seen the steadfast little creature cower. Not once. Even during their first time meeting. Cautious, sure, but never scared. All things considered, maybe Tubbo should have been afraid. Anybody his size with such little biological defenses built into their body should've been terrified of a natural born predator.
But Tubbo wasn't.
Maybe that's why his planet was so easily-
"I'm back!"
Ranboo whirled around just in time to find the Cantaris kicking the doorframe as his own odd way of knocking. It was a nasty habit but since he was the one always fixing the ship, Technoblade was more than capable of buffing out whatever dents he put into its walls. He hesitated in the entryway, skeptical blue eyes lingering on the boy laying on the table.
"He's sleeping, Techno," Philza chuckled.
The pink-haired man sighed in relief. He strode up to the table, grey eyes still flickering between the tiny being and his crewmates.
"You don't know how many shady dealers I had to go through to find this stuff," Technoblade announced. He held a small container of clear liquid up in a gloved hand. Ranboo winced at the very sight of it.
"How much did you get?" the winged man inquired.
"Enough to drown in. You're sure this stuff's safe for him?"
Ranboo nodded vehemently. He recalled the few instances when the Faustins would forget to toss a dish of the vial substance into his cell. Tubbo would get quiet. And sick. Even a single cycle without the stuff seemed to take a toll on him.
"Weird species," Techno remarked.
"The weirdest," Ranboo agreed fondly. He folded his elbows atop the table, resting his chin against his hands. "There's so many things I wish I could ask him. I wish he were chipped."
"Oh no you don't," Techno assured him. "Not by Faustins. They're notorious for botching the installation process. Instead of translating straight between languages, it'll just translate sporadically. Suddenly you can't even speak your own dialect without jumbling your words with a whole other language. It's migraine-inducing."
Ranboo huffed.
"Well, we could take him to Karl, couldn't we? He did a good job on my chip."
Ranboo's friends exchanged cryptic glances. The tall boy's focus darted between the two of them.
"What?" the Endlocke asked.
Philza seemed to be waiting for Technoblade to talk. The Cantaris' irises bled to a deep red. He shook his head, jaw clenched in stubborn refusal. Philza sighed begrudgingly.
"Techno lost it on Karl's husband while he was looking for you and he refuses to apologize."
"You're mad at Sapnap?" Ranboo said.
"The other husband," Techno grumbled.
"You started beef with Quackity? He's our best parts supplier!" the boy exclaimed, raking his fingers through his hair in exasperation.
"We'll find another. And we'll find another person to install a translation chip, too. I'll find another person. Just gimme a few cycles."
"On a subject this small? Good luck. Karl was the only one willing to put in Skeppy's chip and he's bigger than Tubbo," Philza pointed out.
Technoblade spared a sideways look at the disappointed boy beside him. He drew in a deep breath.
"I'll figure it out," he reiterated, color draining from his eyes once again. He leaned down, briefly bumping his forehead against Ranboo's. "Promise."
Ranboo only nodded. A Cantaris' word was his skeleton. Should either be broken or twisted, a Cantaris could hardly be whole. That's what Techno used to say, anyways. And, hells, Ranboo had to take his word on that.
~
I was sitting around last night like, "I feel like I'm forgetting something." Then I realized I didn't schedule this piece to post. My bad lol.
I wonder how in Intergalactic Abductees Ranboo would react if he ever found out that most humans don’t just like water, they will play in it and do water based activities for fun.
Glad to see you're back. Definitely looking forward to more Intergalactic Abductees, especially with tubbo and ranboo their relationship is pretty wholesome, in my opinion ^_^
Thank you! Glad to be back! I got big plans for that particular AU :)
Hi! Still alive! Still planning on making content! I've got a few stories locked and loaded in the drafts that I'm editing right now and then some new content too! I moved halfway across the country for a job but the job didn't work out so I moved back and then took on a whole bunch of editor and copywriter jobs on Upwork (nice website, some shady clients).
But I'm all settled in now and ready to get back to it! :)
Also, did the fandom die while I was gone? All the tags are so...quiet lol.
Summary: Tubbo was certain he was a goner. But he's alive. Unfortunately, his living status is put in jeopardy.
Agonizing pain shot through Tubbo's side like someone taking a drill bit to his ribs. He cringed and made a move to stand only to feel a warm pressure lightly pinning his to the frigid surface beneath him. Someone cooed words of nonsense from far away until sleep claimed him once more.
...
The first thing Tubbo saw when he opened his eyes was a needle larger than his whole person. He sucked in a sharp breath. Adrenaline puppeteered his body, sending him rocketing backwards. He leapt to his feet, doing his best to ignore the sharp pains in his body begging him to do otherwise.
The alien in possession of the syringe muttered something that-to no one's surprise-Tubbo didn't understand. He cried out pitifully as they made a swipe for him, their fingers snagging on nothing but air.
His legs moved faster than his mind, carrying him far away in the other direction. He clambered up cabinet drawer handles mounted on the wall like rungs of a ladder. His every muscle screamed in agony but he didn't stop until he was at the very top of the chest of drawers.
The alien stared at me from a helpless distance below. His golden wings twitched behind him, face scrunched up in an unreadable expression. Tubbo struggled to catch his breath, raking his fingers through his hair in an attempt to shake some clarity into his mind.
Where was he? Who was this? His brain was jumbled beyond repair.
They were trying to kill him. He knew they were trying to kill him. He detested needles at the best of times. This whole situation was something straight out of a nightmare.
He sniffled, trying to catch tears before they fell yet failing miserably. The alien's shoulders slumped. Blonde eyebrows furrowed in what almost looked like concern. No. Tubbo was certain he was just disappointed at finding out his little test subject was evading him.
"Ranboo!" the winged alien called over his shoulder.
Ranboo?
He appeared in a blink. The lanky, dual-colored being had to duck just to fit through the doorway. His eyes scanned the room a moment before landing on Tubbo. Panic overtook his slender face. He looked different. Fluffier. Cleaner. Completely free of the navy blue splatters that once decorated his fur.
Ranboo said something to the winged creature who held the syringe a little higher as he replied. Tubbo pressed himself flatter against the cream colored wall at the very sight of the thing. The needle was placed back onto the table immediately. The winged alien held his empty hands up placatingly.
Ranboo's tail swished uneasily on the floor behind him.
"Tubbo," he whined, holding his hands up towards the little human.
On any other day, Tubbo would've run to him. But not that day. All he could think about was being grabbed. Stuck with another syringe. Drugged for weeks at a time and waking up in strange place with a giant alien sitting in the corner with fangs and talons and antlers. He shook his head as he collapsed down onto the top of the cabinet, hugging his knees close to his chest.
Tubbo screwed his eyes shut tight. Why was he trying to kill him? He'd been duped. Stupid enough to believe that they were friends. No. What they had was the product of a temporary, symbiotic relationship. He'd been there to keep Ranboo sane. Now that he was free he had no use for Tubbo. That didn't make much sense but neither did waking up to a needle in his face.
He only opened his eyes at the sound of movement to find the blonde alien was gone. Ranboo was perched on the table Tubbo had just been laying on. His solemn gaze was locked on the small human. His were clapsed together in his lap as he murmured those soft words Tubbo couldn't even begin to comprehend.
He canted his head curiously. Tubbo let out a shaky sigh.
"The...the needle. It's like the ones they have," he stuttered. He pressed his index fingers to either side of his head to mimic horns before pointing at the abandoned syringe on the table.
Ranboo cast a glance over his shoulder before vehemently shaking his head.
"Good," he tried. He pointed at the needle. "Good."
"Bad," Tubbo replied simply.
Ranboo shook his head again. And then they were playing charades again. Outside the occasional "yes", "no", "sorry", "thank you", that's the only way they ever seemed to communicate. The gestures he was throwing out were wild.
Sleeping?
Thinking?
Talking?
Hearing?
Tubbo couldn't blame him. They probably didn't have good mimes in space for him to take after. Or maybe he was brilliant at charades and Tubbo's foggy mind simply could piece together the alien's intent.
"I don't have time to die right now, Ranboo!" he exclaimed in frustration. He sliced a thumb through the air in front of his throat for emphasis. "I have to find Tommy!"
Ranboo shook his head for the umpteenth time.
"No, no, no," he insisted. His hands were pressed together in a prayer position beside his head. Sleep? Oh, great. It wasn't poison. It was just another sedative. He'd said that like it was meant to make Tubbo feel any more at ease.
Tubbo slowly pushed himself up onto his feet with every intention of chewing out the giant alien further. He stepped to the edge of the drawers. A sudden burst of pain shot through his ribs. He let out a strangled grunt, doubling over in pain.
Straight off the edge.
His stomach dropped into his feet as he plummeted. A million thoughts ran through his head. Of Earth, of home, of Tommy. None of them lingering for more than a millisecond. He braced himself for the impact of his body splattering against the tile floor below.
But none ever came.
Instead, he landed on a soft, warm surface. He shook off the dizziness to the best of his abilities, vision slowly focusing on the heterochromatic alien towering over him.
Oh.
He cowered away from the creature. Any attempts to escape was blocked by the fingers curled around him ever so slightly. So many times, he'd found himself cradled in the same manner. He'd been nervous every now and again but there was never a moment where he was as terrified as he was right then.
There was nothing stopping Ranboo's fingers from seizing him, holding him down, and sticking him with that needle. He was raised high. Towards the creature's face. Towards the creature's mouth. He clenched every muscle so hard that he could feel them all cramping in knots.
He didn't know what he was expecting. Teeth, probably. That matching set of fangs mounted to his jaws he'd seen time and time again between grins and ravenously consumed meals. If not the teeth grinding him to mush then at least he expected the claws to skewer him.
Nothing happened.
Well, something did. It felt like sitting in one of those five dollar massage chairs in the mall. Vibrations wracked through his entire body. Ranboo's face was nuzzled softly against his chest. Tubbo couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped his lips. The sensation was so oddly familiar at that point. Ranboo purred like a giant cat, pupils dilated to full circles as opposed to their resting slitted shape.
Right. This was Ranboo. He'd saved Tubbo's bacon more times than he could count. This was his friend. His friend wouldn't hurt him. He felt a little silly knowing that it took a twenty foot fall to remind him of that. Ranboo shifted the tiny creature around his grip, swiping a stray tear from the boy's cheek.
There was a faint sizzle of water against his thumb. He either didn't notice or didn't care. Tubbo wiped the remaining salty trails onto his sleeve. Ranboo said something that Tubbo didn't need to understand to comprehend.
"Alright, big man," he mumbled sheepishly, pressing a careful hand to the great creature's nose. "I love ya too."
Summary: Tommy may be in a very tricky position placed in the care of giant aliens but at least one of them looks like a cat.
A few stray tears slipped from Tommy's eyes as he gawked up at the alien gazing back at him.
"What....?" the newcomer asked, pointing a sharpened claw at Tommy.
Claws. Fangs. Everything about this thing screamed predator. And yet it looked so...fluffy. The conversing pair towering over him took notice of the abrupt shift in mood but did nothing in fear of spoiling the temporary state of tranquility.
"...likes..." the faceless creature said, keeping its voice as soft as possible. It gestured flippantly at the feline creature.
Slitted pupils found Tommy once again. This time, the alien regarded him with a thinly veiled grimace. The jingle of its bracelets only served to plunge Tommy even further into whatever bizarre trance this thing had him under. He followed every movement of the silvery jewelry as it moved its hand in tandem with its alluring voice.
Its tail swept against the floor, kicking up little specks of dust in its wake. After what seemed like some encouragement from the others, the brunette took a few wary steps towards the tiny being on the table. It crouched down in front of Tommy, evaluating him with cautious eyes.
"Prime," he breathed. Though this looked like a grown-ass person, Tommy couldn't help the pet voice he put on when he talked to it. "You're just a fluffy little guy, aren't you?"
At least one of those must have been a word that carried over between languages given how the two extraterrestrials broke out into fits of laughter above him. A cool toned hue flushed the feline's cheeks. Its ears flattened on either side of its head as it snapped at the inconsolable pair.
It wasn't until that moment that Tommy even remembered they were still there. The black haired alien pressed a hand to his mouth in a futile attempt to muffle his laughter. The other didn't even try to hide it, freely wheezing as he braced his hands on his knees for extra support.
As the brunette stormed off, Tommy had to wonder if maybe the phrase didn't mean the same thing in both languages after all. For all he knew, he'd just called one of the coolest creatures in the entire universe a pussy or something.
By the time the pair had caught their breaths, the luminous creature was propped up against the wall for support as the one with the reflective face had doubled over and collapsed, hands braced against the floor.
"Should...Bad?" the glowing creature gasped between the aftershocks of his laughter. It took his comrade far too long to answer.
"...think Bad...know...?" the faceless one asked.
"...way...out."
The faceless one didn't seem to want to leave but begrudgingly strode out of the room under the apparent insistence of the other. Tommy staggered backwards as the broad alien claimed a seat at the very table he was standing on.
It babbled a slew of complete nonsense, staring at Tommy expectantly with a wild look in its eyes.
"Uh...what?" the blonde asked.
The creature deflated. It pressed a hand it its chest.
"Sapnap."
Tommy was almost willing to write it off as more gibberish until the creature repeated the same word.
"Sapnap."
It turned a hand to Tommy in a sweeping gesture.
"Oh. Tommy?" the boy tried, mimicking the motion.
"Tommy?" the alien repeated with the same questioning inflection. "Sapnap. Tommy?"
The boy scoffed. Close enough. Sapnap let out an odd warble, tilting his head as he squinted at Tommy.
"Small."
Right. Of course these were the words Tommy could understand. Only the ones where he was being demeaned.
"I'm not small, bitch! You're just fucking huge!" Tommy hollered. The being continued to grin like an idiot. Right, so it didn't really understand a word he was saying. Tommy could work with that. "You know, most people don't really like bitches but you know what nobody likes? Big bitches."
Sapnap giggled.
"Yeah, laugh it up while you still can. As soon as I get my hands on a gun my size or-or a knife or something, you know who'll be laughing? Me. Not you. Because I'll still have my kidneys intact and you won't."
Tommy slashed an invisible blade through the air in front of him. Either the creature didn't get a word of that or didn't have enough braincells to put together that Tommy was threatening him. Or maybe he just really underestimated how much spite could be packed into such a tiny package. Especially considering that the tiny package in question had been tossed from spaceship to spaceship like a goddamn hot potato.
When Sapnap's glowing fingers reached for him, Tommy knew just what to do.
Sapnap gasped in surprise, yanking his finger free of Tommy's jaws. Was it a good idea to bite his giant alien captors? Probably not. Was Tommy going to stop doing it? Hell no.
He hissed like a rabid animal, baring tiny, flat teeth in warning. His eyes narrowed, daring the baffled alien to fuck around and find out.
Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.
The very ground shook with each heavy footfall from down the hall. Tommy's heart plummeted into his stomach. The shadow sliding across the wall alone was enough to drain all the fight from his body. There was something sickeningly familiar in those steps.
Sapnap stood to greet the horrible creature as it slinked through the doorway. Wholly obsidian eyes locked on him in an instant. His very lungs froze in his chest, throat constricting in on itself. He was petrified. His memory of demonic monsters of the past formed a noose around his neck. The sight of one in the present pulled the rope tight.
It tilted its head, clicking an odd rhythm like something straight out of one of the horror movies he used to make fun of Tubbo for being so scared of.
This thing was big. Bigger than the others. He didn't even know that was possible. Rows of sharp fangs poked out from between its parted lips as it spoke its unnerving language to the other creature in the room. Try as he might to pry his mind back into reality, he was unable to scrub the image of being ground into paste by those very teeth from his brain.
He tried to form even a half-hearted threat to throw at the thing but he couldn't. He couldn't make it go away. He couldn't make it stop walking towards. He couldn't stop it from reaching down to him with elongated, clawed fingers.
His every muscle locked up. With his feet cemented to the table, the only thing he could do was stand there and brace himself.
The pressure against his head was light, running from the top of his head to the very place that spike of pain had been driven into his head ever since he got himself free of the operating table. He flinched hard as the blunt of a nail grazed his temple.
"...chip...install...okay."
The voice was jarringly different from what he would have expected from such a monstrous cryptid. Its skin was cold against his. Like a doctor's.
He only dared to open his eyes when he felt the touch move down to his cheek. Tears he didn't know he'd made were swiped away by a careful thumb. The alien was...shorter. Even as it sat on its knees, it still towered over him but at least he didn't have to crane his neck so far to look up at it.
A soft smile spread graced its sharp and hellish features. It let out a high-pitched coo.
"Baby," it stated confidently. He was snapped back into reality as it tapped his nose with its pinky finger.
Tommy gawked.
"...p-pardon?"
~~
Finals are kicking my ass. I wrote an essay on wrongful convictions based on witness misidentification with a powerpoint presentation on a related case, an essay on the experiences of LGBTQ+ individuals in prison, a manuscript of two short stories (one was about a cat on a subway and the other was about a lawyer haunted by the souls of the people murdered by his clients) with a detailed explanation of my focuses on literary devices, an essay on Spanish sports, a case briefing on Missouri v. McNeely, and I've done 2/7 final exams.
As someone about to graduate with an associate's degree, my advice for freshmen is: Drop Out <3
Anyways, what I'm trying to say is sorry if this piece seemed kinda rushed.
Summary: Ranboo finds himself in a totally relatable situation where he's been abducted by one of the scariest supervillains in existence.
Ranboo gets bullied in this one >:)
"...dunno, the freezer?"
"I'm not putting a person in our freezer."
"He probably wouldn't take up much room."
"Don't be an idiot. He'll get blood on my ice cream."
"Scratch the hero. Why don't we just put Will in the freezer?"
"Nobody's putting anyone in the freezer."
The world was a bokeh photo. Clarity was slowly afforded to Ranboo. His mind swam as he gradually pushed himself upright. The argument had become little more than background noise. The entirety of his focus was on the sharp pain coursing through his back in bolts.
"Did you even try to get his suit off? See what we're dealing with?"
"Yeah. Things got an airlock or something."
Airlock? His suit had an airlock on it. Nobody could get the thing off without popping his head off in the process. Maybe he should mention something to...to...
Who was talking?
He could have sworn one of the voices sounded familiar and yet he couldn't place it. Ranboo having memory problems? How entirely out of character. A weary groan leaked from his lips. Dream was going to give him an earful for this one.
His eyes slowly lifted to take in his surroundings. It seemed like a normal enough room. A sofa, a television, a couple windows...all of which seemed comically larger than the hero-in-training. Nausea churned Ranboo's stomach.
Three figures jarringly proportionate to their surroundings stood around in the kitchen. As soon as one with suspiciously pink hair started turning towards him, Ranboo pulled a Toy Story maneuver. He immediately went limp as a ragdoll, dropping flat down against the wood surface beneath him.
There was a long pause.
"He's awake," the Blood God's menacing voice rattled his very bones.
"How do you know?" someone else inquired.
"Will, unless you're going soft on me, he's awake."
Shit. Ranboo made every attempt to suppress whatever fear the Blood God was detecting from him but acknowledging it alone only seemed to make grow stronger. His skin was slick with sweat beneath the impossible heat of his suit. It was like being in a greenhouse. Or an oven.
"Little hero."
The gravely voice was a stark contrast to the sing-songy tone it was forcing.
Ranboo dared to open his eyes only to find an all too familiar boar skull towering over him. A shaky sigh slipped from the sidekick's lips. His head lolled to the side like an answer to the call of darkness lulling him straight back into the state of unconscious he'd only just escaped.
A reckless pressure on his side startled him wide awake.
"Aw, don't die yet. If you keel over before we start interrogating, I owe Will twenty bucks."
Interrogating?
He really was screwed. No doubt about it. The only real question was whether the stress or the villain would do him in first.
"You'll be out a Jackson if you keep poking him like that," someone else from the kitchen pointed out.
The pressure hastily retreated.
"What'd you find on this guy?" the Blood God inquired. He canted his head like a confused puppy. "He seems kinda spineless for a hero."
Ouch. Mentally, physically, emotionally. What ways hadn't this guy wounded Ranboo?
It wasn't like the villain was even wrong. In fact, if Ranboo miraculously made it out of this alive, he swore to himself that he'd resign right then and there. Turn in his badge and what little was left of his suit and beg for his server job back.
"Nope. Our mini-man here is a ghost," a heavily accented voice replied.
"Alright, Casper, I'm going to need you to take your helmet off so we can have a little chat," the Blood God stated. Ruby ringlets in hollow eye sockets kept Ranboo pinned in place. The bright eyes cast a warm glow against the beige bone material of the skull on the villain's head.
No way in fresh hell was he taking off his helmet. It may have been busted in by the foot of the villain he'd stumbled across in the alleyway but it was the only thing standing between him and the three villains in the room with him.
"What, d'ya want me to say please?" the Blood God drawled. He brandished the dagger from his hip, giving it a skillful twirl between his fingers. Without warning, the blade was buried in the wood mere inches from Ranboo's head. "Or are ya looking for some proper motivation?"
The sidekick's heart stuttered to a halt in his chest. Where he once found fear within the red eyes bearing down on him, he was bombarded solely with promises of death. Demise. Something worse. He didn't usually make a point of considering fates worse than death but it was impossible to ignore when they were looking you straight in the face.
It was like he was frozen but couldn't stop twitching all the same.
"I-I can't," Ranboo ground out between chattering teeth. He could hardly breathe.
"Why not?" the Blood God demanded.
"Dream'll kill me if I show you my face."
The broad man let out a dark chuckle.
"You're really more scared of that homeless Teletubby than you are of me?"
There was a pause. The ever-present grin on the villain's face faltered. He leaned back only a hair's width but even that much was a mercy.
"Wait, seriously?" he asked in bewilderment. Ranboo felt the urge to apologize. Scaring people was kind of his whole brand and while he was doing a bang-up job, nothing was more terrifying than the prospect of pissing off Dream.
Someone let out a hardy laugh from the kitchen. The Blood God shot a lethal glare in their direction.
"He's more scared of a smiley face in tights than he is of you!" they wheezed. "You fell off, Techno."
The Blood God reached forward without looking. Ranboo braced himself only to find the villain's fingers wrapped around the hilt of the dagger beside him. With disturbingly little effort, he pried the knife free of its wooden prison and threw it with inhuman grace.
With the sound of something shattering into pieces followed by an indignant squawk, the laughter ceased all at once.
"That was my favorite mug!"
The Blood God scoffed. "You say that about every mug I break."
"Stop breaking my mugs!"
"Stop making them such easy targets!"
"Oh you-"
"Uh-uh," a third voice-Phil, Ranboo presumed-interjected. "Take it outside."
"With pleasure," the Blood God snarled. He rose to his full, intimidating height. It was like he'd forgotten about Ranboo altogether. Not that he was complaining, of course. He cracked his knuckles as he strode off. Ranboo pitied whoever he was planning on squaring off against.
Two sets of footsteps retreated somewhere through the house. It wasn't until a door slammed shut that the chaos resumed, only this time it was far too muffled to make any of it out.
Ranboo was slow to push himself upright. Even so, pain zipped through his abdomen in reprimand. He drew in a hissing breath.
"Take it easy, mate," Phil prompted. He slowly came into view as he shuffled around the side of the sofa to kneel before the coffee table. Even without the costume, Ranboo easily recognized him. Only one villain in his memory bank had massive black wings like those.
Corvus.
"I want to help you but I can't really do that unless I see where you got hurt," Phil tried. He had a deceptively kind smile. When Ranboo didn't respond, he seemed to try a different approach. "The crows told me you seem to be having a bit of a glitch with your suit. Maybe I could help with that?"
Right. The crows. The whole reason this group of villains in particular seemed to have eyes everywhere was because they did. The crows were like little spies. Ranboo wasn't sure how it worked but somehow, the birds always got back to Corvus.
"Are you supposed to be...'good cop' or something?" Ranboo asked between pants.
Corvus chuckled.
"Something like that, I suppose. Look, I've been through this routine a dozen times. We take a hero, we get the info we can, the hero organization bargain for them, and we give them back with only a few strings attached. But I'd really rather not return a corpse because that would look pretty bad on us, wouldn't it? So just let me take a look, we'll get you patched up, and then you'll be on your way in no time."
So much of what Corvus said didn't make sense and yet, he made it sound like the most logical explanation he could convey. Was this gaslighting? This felt like gaslighting.
The sidekick sighed.
"Dream's not going to give you anything for me. There's plenty of recruits worth wasting the resources on but I'm not one of them."
The villain tilted his head in consideration.
"Is that so? Well, then I really should get working on those injuries if you're going to be staying a while," Corvus pointed out.
Ranboo drew in a deep breath. Weighing his options, there were only a few things within the realm of his capabilities. He could just lay there and wait for the bloodloss to pull him under, he could try to make a run for it, or he could take the suit off and pray that the villain was being genuine in their concern for his wellbeing.
None of them seemed to have an assuredly good outcome so he'd just have to go with the one that might give him the best chance of living.
He raised his hands under his helmet. The glove let out a weak chime as it connected to the mechanisms within. He drummed in a quick combinations of buttons and the lock reluctantly clicked out of place. With a deep breath, slowly raised his only method of protection up off his head.
With even more hesitation, he pulled his suit down around his ankles. He was just glad protocol called for them to wear clothes beneath the super suits. Otherwise he'd feel even more exposed than he did in that moment.
When he his gaze trailed back up to meet Corvus', he found the man gawking down at him with his hands clasped over his mouth. Did Ranboo really look that bad?
"How...how old are you?" Phil blurted. His tan complexion had faded to a sickly grey.
Ranboo chewed at his lower lip. Was he really meant to answer that? Then again, what harm would it do?
"Seventeen."
Something unreadable sparked to life in Phil's eyes.
"Does Dream know that?"
Ranboo's focus shifted elsewhere.
"I-I guess? He's the one that hired me."
Phil continued on staring for far too long before hooking his index fingers into his mouth. He let out a shrill whistle that nearly shattered Ranboo's eardrums. Right on command, a flutter of wings sounded overhead. A sleek, black bird claimed its perch on Phil's waiting arm.
"Go get Wilbur," Phil instructed.
The crow let out a caw before taking off in the direction the Blood God had gone off in.
Ranboo raked through his words with a fine-toothed comb in search of something he'd said that could have shocked Phil so badly but he came up with nothing. A not-so-convincing smile was plastered on the blonde man's face as he returned his attention to the tiny hero waiting on the coffee table.
"You just wait here, okay? Wilbur will take care of you. I just have to...er...grab the first aid kit."
The villain took off before Ranboo could even get another word in. He was left standing there wallowing in his own confusion. Ranboo had learned a thing or two about identifying a lie during his time working under Dream. The only real question that remained was:
