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Ranboo forgot someone again.
He was used to forgetting relationships, events, but very rarely did he forget entire people. Unless he did it all the time, and just forgot about forgetting. The only time he could remember forgetting someone (or rather, being told he forgot someone) was in his early days in the SMP, when he had apparently forgotten about Quackity three whole times before the man stuck in his brain.
But he had done it again, or at least he must have, considering the strange looks he was getting when he asked who “Her” was. Phil had started off really standoffish about them, whoever they were, but the more questions Ranboo asked, the more it turned into concern. They must have been pretty important too, because by the time Ranboo was heading back to Snowchester, even Technoblade looked worried.
“Do you know who Her is, Techno? Or is Phil just keeping this from me, because he doesn’t need to, I don’t ha…”
The enderman was cut off by the pigman, interrupting his ramblings with a clearing of his throat. “Phil’s secrets are his to tell, Ranboo. I don’t know why there are trees now, but I only know of one possible “her” he could be talking about, and it’s not one that he’s ever been open to discussing.”
Only one? There were multiple???
“Come on, man, give me something, is Her someone I’ve met before, or…”
“Look, I’m really trying not to get all English Major on you, but your grammar is just… I’m not gonna lie to you, it kinda sounds like you’re having a stroke. Are you good?” Technoblade was staring, not in a bad way, in a concerned way. But it was staring nonetheless, and it was only making Ranboo regret asking any questions more and more by the second.
“I’m- I’m fine, I’m just- I gotta go.” He darted away without a proper goodbye, leaving Technoblade alone in the snow. Nobody here was going to tell him who Her was, and the Syndicate meetings had always made him uncomfortable anyways. He was there so he could protect Tubbo, not that he remembered how joining the Syndicate helped him do that. But that was what the memory book said, and if it kept Tubbo safe, he would put up with their weird ramblings of anarchy and terrorism.
The way to his home in Snowchester was never fun, between the trip through the nether and the water tunnel. The water couldn’t hurt him with his armor on, but being surrounded by acid that will melt your skin was still by no means fun. By the time they had reached the mansion, night had crept into Snowchester, and Ranboo thanked Prime that there were enough lanterns that he didn’t have to worry about mobs. Not that he couldn’t handle them, but the added stress was not ideal.
Tubbo was already home, smelling of cookies and, more concerningly, burning, but that was probably just due to the lava he had to pass through to get to the outpost. He hoped. He sat hunched over Michael, tightly wrapping potion-soaked bandages around his forehead.
“Holy- Is Michael okay?” Ranboo rushed into the room, towering as he completed the huddle of their small family.
“Yeah, he’s fine, just got a little banged up.” Tubbo smiled up at his husband, doing his best to calm the man's nerves without taking his focus from the three-year-old. “Tommy got him a slingshot because he always seemed so fascinated with Tommy’s old crossbow, first shot he took he hit himself right in the head.”
Ranboo leaned in over his son, inspecting the wound. Nothing serious, thank Prime, just a small welt on the side of his face that still had flesh. “Oh, Michael.” He went to touch his son's face, but Tubbo slapped his hand away.
“His bandages are soaked in potions of Harming, I wouldn’t touch it.” Tubbo’s own hands wore thick, yellow gloves, already slightly melting from contact with the potion for so long.
Ranboo stroked the side of his son's head that was only bone, and the toddler let out a series of content oinks.
“So, how was your day? Do anything fun?” Tubbo let the question hang in the air for a moment, knowing Ranboo might have some trouble remembering what exactly he had done with his day.
“I, uh… oh! Me and Niki went to check out the magic forest, that’s right.” He spoke with confidence, but Tubbo raised an eyebrow.
“Forest? I didn’t know there was a forest out by your place, especially a ‘magic’ one.”
“That’s what I thought too! But everyone else just kinda went along with it. Phil said he knew who did it, but I didn’t recognize the name. I must have forgotten the person entirely.” Ranboo blushed a bit at that, embarrassed to keep bringing up his memory issues. Tubbo seemed completely unphased, though, and Ranboo wondered if this was actually a frequent event that he had just forgotten.
“Did he tell you their name? Maybe I know them.” Tubbo was done with the bandages, carefully sliding off his gloves before placing a hand on his husband's shoulder.
“Uh, yeah, Her.”
“Her? That’s weird.”
“Huh? Why?”
“I dunno, it’s just weird. It’d be like if we named Michael ‘she’”.
“Oh yeah, She. That was one of Eret’s nicknames.
“I… It’s not a nickname, boss man, it’s a pronoun.”
“Can you run by me what a pronoun is real quick?”
That gained a snicker from Tubbo. “The genderman doesn’t know what a pronoun is?”
“Gender,,,, huh?”
“Oh, it’s what chat calls you sometimes.” The swarm of bees flying around him that consisted of Tubbo’s chat started buzzing louder, delighted to be acknowledged. The strange yellow and black animals (or “bugs” as they specified in the overworld; Ender didn’t have a word differentiating the two) began flying around Ranboo and weaving through his ender particles. “They just think you're neat, I guess.”
“That’s not what I- I’m sorry that I’m just asking a bunch of questions, but-” Ranboo continued to blabber, but Tubbo dismissed it without much more than a wave of his hand.
“Spit it out, man. If I was gonna be all judgy and weird, I would have done it by now. Just ask.”
“What’s a gender?”
That made Tubbo pause. “Dah- uh- oh?”
“I think I’ve heard the word before I just uh…” Upon seeing the shock on Tubbo’s face, he quickly backtracked. This was clearly a common word, and he might as well spare himself from the embarrassment as much as he could. “Nevermind. Yeah, gender. I know what that is. I’m a… gender… man…”
“Holy balls. Do enderman not have a concept of gender?” Ranboo flinched slightly as Tubbo raised his voice, but it seemed to be out of intrigue or excitement rather than frustration. Tubbo didn’t even wait for Ranboo to vocally respond, the look of confusion on his face told him everything he needed to know. “That’s, holy shit! That must be so fucking confusing! I don’t even know how I would explain… so like okay, how do I… do you know what a boy is?”
“I, uh,” Ranboo was already lost in this line of questioning. “Like, a smaller human? A man, but younger?”
“Well, okay yes, but talking more like about the gender that is… ‘Boy’. Prime, I am probably the last person you should be talking about this to. I can get Eret to try to explain maybe, or Ponk, but…”
“Can you try?” It was a selfish request, but Ranboo loved listening to his husband ramble, and it had been a while since he had seen him so passionate about something. “Not if you don’t want to, I just…”
“No, it’s awesome! I just, let me get out some of my books, yeah? I got them when I was still questioning and shit. They’re a bit more... advanced, but we need to start somewhere, right?”
Not bothering with waiting for a response, Tubbo practically leaped down the ladder into the basement of the house, leaving Ranboo alone with his (currently poisonous to the touch) piglin son and a million questions.
Oh boy, what had he gotten himself into?