Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ranboo was chosen to be the assassin when he was just a baby. After his parents had died like countless more of their kind protecting their queen, or trying to at least, he had been taken in by a member of the End Council. His current caretaker, Portis, apparently was a close friend of his mothers, and saw it as his duty to raise the orphan to avenge his parents at the appropriate age. Ranboo was taught it was his purpose. His reason for living. His whole life had been sword training, and poison making.

Whilst most children were making friends or having their first crushes, Ranboo was learning the fastest way to get around his enemy's castle in the overworld from maps gifted by merchants, or the easiest way to get blood out of your clothes, or how to poison someone without getting your hands dirty. His whole point in life was to avenge his late parents, along with the countless others who died at the hands of the angel of death. And his queen.

Since the queen had died, The End was never quite the same. Humans were not scared of the End anymore, not without the queen's protection. They would come to the End and steal Endermen belongings or destroy buildings with no regard for the inhabitants of the city they were robbing. And humans were terrifying, with their armor and blades made of dark, shining netherite. Humans weren't afraid to kill either. Endermen definitely understood that after the angel of death’s massacre years ago.

Endermen at first just wanted to be left alone. They were not near as advanced as humans, since they never saw the need to be. Before the portal had been lit, enderman lived peacefully. They traded things like clothes, jewelry, and food, and even had their own language. They were happy as they were, so why would they need more?

But after the Angel of Death’s massacre, and now in a time where humans were coming freely into the End Realm, the need for weapons to defend yourself had become clear. So mechant endermen went into the Overworld and brought back tools, usually made of iron, and other small treasures the Overworld offered.

However, being a merchant was considered a dangerous job and many never returned alive. That also meant that merchant visits were pretty rare, making things like weapons or armour rare too. Most Endermen were completely helpless when humans raided their homes. Lots of Endermen wanted the portal closed, but many more still wanted justice for the tremendous loss of life years ago. And they would get their justice. Because after a lifetime of training as an assassin, Ranboo was ready. Ranboo was ready to kill the angel of death and his family. He would finally pay his dues.

“What are you thinking?” Ranboo blinked, tearing his gaze away from the town below him to meet the eyes of Portis, who was leaning his forearms on the rail of the balcony while staring at the younger enderman beside him. Ranboo thought for a moment, fiddling with his fingers. “I just...Do you really think I'm ready? What if I mess it up and get caught? Man, I just…” Ranboo paused, sighing. “I just don't want to let you down. To let them down.” He turned to look back down at the streets full of people.

Mothers buying chorus fruit, children running through the crowds, friends sitting together on a stairwell laughing at each other's jokes. Portis chuckled, patting Ranboo’s shoulder. “Ranboo, you've spent your whole life preparing for this. How could you possibly think you're not ready?" Ranboo quieted, wrapping a strand of hair around his finger. Portis moved his hand from Ranboos shoulder to his hair, ruffling it up.

Ranboo chuckled, pushing away the older's hand. "You'll be okay my boy. You'll do great. The council knew this wouldn't be an easy task, so we did our best to prepare you for this day, and personally I wouldn't rather this job be the honor of anyone else. You'll avenge your people and queen, and you'll shatter the portal, guaranteeing us safety from the humans once and for all." The older man's purple eyes shown with pride. "Everyone will be happy and safe again. You'll be a hero.”

Ranboo smiled, tightening his grip on the balcony’s rail. “A hero.” The words rung in his head, making him feel slightly dizzy. He was going to be a hero.

____

“Tubbo!” A voice screeched from behind him. “You’re going to pay for that, you bitch!” The boy laughed in return bursting through the greenhouse doors and sprinting into the gardens. Wind flew through his hair, pushing strands out of his face. He zigzagged through stone pillars covered in ivy and yellow flowers, narrowly avoiding hands reaching out from behind him.

He trips over an exposed tree root, falling over into the grass and flowers below. A roar of laughter erupts from behind him followed by an outstretched hand offering help up. “Sorry I Just-” He says between snickers, looking very not sorry. “Karma, you know?” Tubbo grabs the boy’s hand, pulling him down in the grass beside him. “I'll kill you.” The brunette mock threatens, “I will. Don't test me.”

The blonde bursts into another fit of laughter, poking his brother in the side. “What the hell, Tubbo!” He exclaims. Tubbo giggles, laying all the way back in the grass and putting his arms behind his head. He looks up at the flowers of the wisteria tree they lay under, sighing contently.
“I can't remember the last time we did this.” Tommy quirks an eyebrow, turning to face tubbo. “Did what?” “Nothing. Since we've done absolutely nothing.” He murmurs. Tommy nods, looking back down at the grass he was mindlessly pulling at.

“Yeah,” He laughs. “You’ve been so busy helping wilbur with royal paperwork, or whatever the fuck you two do in that office all day, and ive been busy with totally awesome training sessions.” “Totally awesome, huh?” Tubbo laughs. “I saw you get totally clobbered by Techno yesterday through a window in the office.” Tommy scoffs, lightly kicking Tubbo with his foot.

“Whatever. I'm still like super fucking tough. Techno could just literally beat anyone up and you know that. Hell, people call him the Blood God for a reason.” Tommy laughs at the last part, he always thought “Blood God” was a stupid nickname. Tubbo hums in agreement, picking a small daisy growing beside him and mindlessly plucking away at its petals. The blonde sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"He’s been pushing me harder lately. I think it must be because I was finally made your official personal guard.” “I still can't believe Phil let you do that.” Tubbo chuckles. “Yeah. But, I think he kinda always knew I wasn’t really meant to be a prince.” “You were pretty damn bad at it, weren't you?” Tubbo smiles, sitting up to look at the younger boy in front of him.

“Yeah.” Tommy laughs. “I guess I was.” Tubbo gasps dramatically, bringing a hand to his mouth. “What?” Tommy asks, quickly turning around to look for what his brother was gasping at. “Tommy admitting he’s bad at something? Surely not!” He exclaims. Tommy turns back to look at him with a disappointed sigh.

“I hate you.” “No you don’t.” Tubbo laughs. “I totally do.” Tommy throws a handful of grass at his brother, resulting in a full on war with both of them throwing grass and leaves at each other, laughing without a care in the world.

____

Ranboo really hadn't thought it would be this easy. He straightened out his red tie and adjusted his collar of his white button up that was almost completely hidden by a black overcoat. I mean, it should not have been that easy to get a job.

He honestly thought he would have to go through a ton of terrible trials or something. In reality, the only requirements to being a castle servant was; one, not be a wanted criminal, two, know how to clean, and three, be well mannered and respectful.

What the hell. These people have really low standards, apparently. He still remembered what the head servant, Jack, had said when Ranboo had come to him asking for a job. “Listen man, ima be honest, im super glad you came because holy hell are we low on castle staff. I don't know why they made this castle so damn big because I'm going just about crazy trying to help manage it. Listen mate, if i'm going to be really honest, i'm like sixty two percent sure that the bathrooms in the east wing haven't been cleaned in months.” Ranboo had just awkwardly laughed before he realized the man wasn't joking.

“So listen, would you be willing to clean the east bathrooms?” The man had grabbed him by the shoulders, giving him a deadly serious stare. Ranboo was honestly a little scared, this man seemed slightly bonkers to be honest. But he slowly nodded his head, trying his best to avoid eye contact.

The man smiled, clapping his hands. “Great mate! I'll get the uniform to you as soon as I can! Servant quarters are in the west wing, ground floor. Ask Niki, she's the head chef, she’ll either show you herself or get someone else to show you.” And before Ranboo could ask more questions, the man had quickly walked away, muttering something to himself about retirement.
Ranboo chuckled at the memory looking up from his tie to his face in the mirror. A part of his hair had started to turn from dirty blonde back to black and his fangs had started to slightly show below his upper lip. He groaned, grabbing a red, sparkling potion from his leather messenger bag.

The enderman chugged it down, trying not to gag at the bitter taste. He looked back to the mirror as his hair slowly turned back to dirty blonde and his fangs retreated back into his mouth.

If he was being honest, he completely hated the way his human self looked. His skin was a weird peachy color and his eyes looked strangely unnatural compared to the rest of his seemingly plain looking self. It just...Wasn't him.

He stepped out of the bathroom into a grand hall, cautiously looking around for other servants. Clear. He let out a sigh of relief. Jack, or Manifold, as he overheard a few other servants call him, had given Ranboo the uniform about an hour after hiring him, and sent him on his way to get dressed.

Ranboo, instead of trying to find the servant quarters had relented to using one of the Eastern bathrooms, since no one apparently used those. “And for good reason too.” Ranboo thought. Gods, you would think a castle bathroom would be cleaner. There is no way he's going to be staying in there for any longer than he has to.

He takes in a deep breath, steadying himself. “This is really happening. I'm here, and I'm going to kill the royal family.” For a split second he feels like puking, but he pushes it down and strides down the hall, realizing he didn't actually know where to find the kitchen.

Chapter Text

Ranboo had finally found the kitchen. Thank Gods. That took way longer than it should have. Jack definitely wasn't wrong when he said they made this castle way too big. They should start putting maps up to guide people through the labyrinth of castle halls.

As Ranboo stepped through the doors leading into the kitchen, the enticing aroma of spices and honey danced through the air, engulfing the boy entirely. The kitchen was huge and made of stone countertops and walls with iron chandeliers lit by candles hanging from the ceiling. Shelves showcasing colorful spices and produce adorned the walls, along with painted portraits of people with the title “Chef” carved into the bottom of each frame.

The countertops were covered with raw meats and ripe fruits and vegetables being cut. Servants and cooks scampered around the kitchen, hard at work cooking dinner for the royal family. Ranboo walked over to a pot filled with various kinds of vegetables and meat cooking on a wood stove. Frankly, Ranboo thought it looked pretty gross. But man, did it smell good. “Hey kid, can ya move please? I need to finish this stew.” Ranboo whipped around to see a short girl with curly black hair sporting an annoyed expression on her space. “Oh. Sorry.” Ranboo muttered, shuffling away from the stove.

He watches the girl sprinkle a rich, red colored powder into the pot and stir it around with a wooden spoon. She puts the small spice jar down and pulls a knife from a nearby drawer, starting to swiftly slice a carrot. The girl lets out an exasperated sigh, turning around and putting her hands on her hips.

“Listen kid, you've been standing over my shoulder for like a minute. I can practically feel you breathing down my neck. What do you want?” The girl expectantly raises her eyebrows at the enderman. The boy tenses up, not sure how to respond. Were all humans this blunt? “Oh! Sorry, I just- Do you know where I can find the head chef? Or maybe a map? I can't find the servant quarters and Jack told me to find her if I need help.”

The girl relaxed and her eyebrows slightly softened. “Oh, I see. First day huh? They really do need to give new people maps to the castle. Imma be honest man, you caught us at a really bad time. Usually the kitchen isn't this hectic but it's dinner time right now, so Manifold sent you at a pretty horrible time.” The girl lets out a stressed chuckle, looking around the room at all the chefs hurrying around the kitchen. “Once all the food is served and the royal family gets done thanking chef Niki for the meal, I'm sure someone will be able to help you.” The girl reassures, offering a small smile. "Thanks, sorry for bothering you." The girl shakes her head, turning back to the carrot she had been cutting minutes before. "Don't worry about it, we all had our crazy first days at some point."

Just as Ranboo was about to ask which chef was in fact Niki, a boy calls out a name from across the room. "Tanya? Tanya! Can you help me with this? I don't know where you put the recipe to these dumb dumplings." The girl Ranboo was standing next to, "Tanya" apparently, groans and puts down her knife. "Hey kid," She turns to Ranboo. "Do you know how to cut a carrot?" Ranboo nods, and before he can ask questions, she shoves the knife in his hands. “Great! Cut the carrot into slices and then pour it in and stir it. I'll be back in just a second, thanks.” Ranboo stood still for a moment, jaw slightly clenched. Honestly, he was tired, and just wanted to find the servant’s quarters and go to bed. Then he gets an idea.

He looks around making sure no one is paying him any mind, before reaching into his suit pocket and pulling out a small green potion. He turns back to the pot and pauses for a moment. It's now or never. He pulls on the potion’s cork, opening it. The smell of the potion wafts into his face. It smells of death. How fitting. Ranboo hoped the smell of the stew would overpower the stench of the potion. As he’s about to pour in the potion, he sees himself in the reflection of the pot.

And for a brief moment, he feels...bad. Horrible, actually. He was about to kill someone. Multiple someones. A family. A family whose father did horrible things, but a family nonetheless. Was this really what he wanted to do? Their blood would forever be splattered across his hand, nothing would ever change that. There was no going back.

He's taken away from his thoughts when a single drop of poison splashes into the pot. “What am I doing?” He thinks, getting frustrated with himself. He quickly pours all of it in the stew and stirs it in with the wooden spoon. Thankfully, the stew did in fact overpower the potion. It looked like the pot had never been tampered with at all. Before Tanya gets back, he briskly cuts the carrot and haphazardly pours it in. You know, he hadn’t expected it to be this easy.

____

Ranboo had spoken way too soon. How had this happened?

Apparently, it's a servant’s job to serve the food. Who would've guessed? And since Ranboo had been in the kitchen, and was wearing a servant’s uniform, he had ended up being pushed into the dining room with a plate of bread, stew, and turkey, ready to serve to the king. A small part of him thought it was ironic, really. Ranboo was serving him death on a literal silver platter. Poetic in a way, right? The larger part of him dreaded this, because it meant he had to look the king in his eyes as he essentially killed him. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad, if the king actually knew what was coming. Ranboo felt like a coward.

There were about three servants in front of him, each holding different varieties of food. Though behind him, there were five people each holding a bowl of stew. Five members of the royal family were dying tonight. He slightly looks up at the roofs of the castle above. Beautiful crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling that was painted like the night sky. It reminded Ranboo of his home, and slightly comforted him.

And just like that he was standing to the side of the long table where five people sat. He couldn't help but notice that at the end of said table, there was a chair that sat empty. He took in a deep breath and stepped forward, placing the plate in front of the oldest looking man who sat in between a brunette boy and another man with braided pink hair. The king.

Ranboo prayed no one noticed how shaky his hand was as he placed down the plate. Then it happened. The thing he had hoped so badly wouldn't. The man looked up at him and smiled, saying a quick thankyou. And in that moment, that tiny moment, that probably seemed tremendously unremarkable to the king, Ranboo’s stomach twisted violently with guilt. Why, oh god why, had Ranboo looked him in the eyes?