Chapter Text
“Tommy. Really.”
“What, what?” Tommy whined, glancing at Tubbo. He was curled over himself, poking at all of Tubbo’s shit like it was his own. “I’m not doing anything!”
“Sure.” Tubbo rolled his eyes and sifted through another loose pile of papers. “Please put down my telescope.”
Tommy sighed loudly. “Tubbo-- you are so boring now.” He took a final look through the telescope lens before setting it on the table with a clunk. “What getting married does to a motherfucker…”
“Don’t bring my husband into this.” Tubbo said lightheartedly, pulling open a drawer and rooting through it with a hand. He was sure he had the numbers around here somewhere…
He’d been sorting and inventorying Snowchester’s supplies for Winter when Tommy had the whims to visit. Which Tubbo was happy about, but it also meant he had a Tommy following him around and complaining how he was doing his job as leader of Snowchester instead of paying attention to him. Which was also pretty annoying.
It’s not like Tommy was intentionally callous with these things, he respected Tubbo’s position and listened when his tone came out a little sharper and more bothered than normal. Tommy was a good friend. He stops when it becomes too much and is often more help than hindrance.
The thing is, they are also definitely close enough to each other that even when Tommy does annoy him, they both know they will still be friends by the end of it. And he knows that.
The thing is, Tommy came to visit Tubbo today because he was bored, and a bored Tommy has potential for one thing and one thing only: to be as much of a little shit as possible.
And boy, was he succeeding at his mission.
“I’ll bring your husband into this all I want. Oho!” There was a noise as Tommy picked something up. “Tubbo! What the fuck is this?”
Tubbo spared a glance in his direction. “Wh—? Oh, uh. Actually, I don’t know.”
In Tommy’s hands was a globe, not much larger than an enderpearl, but with far too many colors to be mistaken for one. Tubbo…wasn’t sure where it came from. Which was odd, to say the least, because he thinks he’d remember seeing something like this and bringing it into his basement, but whatever. He did share the house with Ranboo, so it wasn’t super odd he hadn’t seen it before.
“Looks cool.” Tommy squinted at it, raising it closer to his face. “Woah, it kinda—glows!” He shook it. The colors inside moved sluggishly, like a shaken snow globe, or a lava lamp. “Where’d you find this?”
Tubbo shrugged. “Dunno. I didn’t. Must’ve been Ranboo.”
“Of fuckin’ course it was Ranboo …” Tommy muttered, just because he could. He and Ranboo had been good friends for ages now, honestly . He examined it again. “It’s like an…orb thing.”
“Yes.” Tubbo agreed plainly. Because. It was. An orb thing. What else was he meant to say to that. Tommy flicked the glassy surface of the orb again. A clear tink sound rang through it. “It’s hollow!” he shook it again with delight, eye wide at the pretty colors.
Tubbo watched him with resignation. “Please be careful with it, though, if it’s Ranboo’s I don’t want it getting--”
And then Tommy dropped it. It hit the ground with a clash! And, by the sounds of it, shattered into pieces. Tubbo wouldn’t know for sure, though, because as soon as it hit the ground a colorful mist, or fog, or smoke, something, filled the room.
Tubbo coughed. “Tom my!” He waved away the mist. It was heavy, and the way it clung to his lungs made him cough harder.
“‘Ow the hell was I s’posed to know?”
“Know what!? Know what--! Tommy, I told you not to break it!” Tubbo berated. He tried to clear the mist stuff from his throat. It worked, mostly. He wasn’t coughing anymore, at least.
Tommy replied quietly, “Technically you didn’t…” He was coughing really hard. Yeesh. Actually, it was the least he deserved for setting off this, this powder bomb or whatever the hell it was.
“Tommy!”
Tommy only laughed. Asshole.
The coughing continued. Tubbo froze. There was coughing. But Tommy was definitely still laughing. And Tubbo wasn’t coughing anymore, so that begged the question… Who else was coughing?
“Primes and bells, Tubs, you’re gonna cough a lung out!”
The mist was clearing, vague shapes were easier to make out. Tommy must be there, the big table was there…
“Uh, Tommy.”
The coughing sputtered out.
“Yeah?”
“That wasn't me.”
The mist cleared out.
“Oh.”
There was someone else in the room.
Tommy saw them first. He squawked in surprise, scrambling backward. His foot hit an empty crate with a loud thud. “What..the fuck !”
Tubbo’s hand jerked upward, poised to pull his sword from his inventory. He assessed.
The stranger was tall, was the first thing he noticed. Tubbo had to crane his neck up to look at their face at such a close range. Although, he realized quickly, it may be best to keep his eyes downward instead.
They were an enderman, clearly: long legs, alien proportions, chitinous armor that’s rough and black instead of softer skin. It was the same type of build he’d come to recognize in Ranboo. Purple particles floated in the air around them.
There was a still moment where they all looked at each other, stunned, before it dissolved with the rest of the mist.
“Ah!” Tommy shouted. “Who the fuck are you? Wh—how’d you get in here!?”
The enderman’s face contorted into an expression of disgust, lip curling and brows scrunching. They drew themself up to their full height in warning, their tail low and close to the ground. A diamond sword materialized in their hand. Then, they opened their mouth and —
Tubbo pulled his own sword out of his inventory, fully expecting an attack, but instead what happened was—
“What? Who are you?” The enderman sounded incredulous, insulted that they even had to ask . They held the sword out in front of them like it was a simple wood stick instead of the weapon it was, pointing it at Tubbo and Tommy with accusation.
“I asked you first!” Tommy said, outraged.
“I asked you second!” The stranger countered, tail coiling upward.
“You bitch—”
“Why are you in my basement?” Tubbo asked frankly. His leader-president-negotiator side kicked into gear.
The enderman whipped their head toward Tubbo, tail lashing. “I am not— !“ they paused. Looked around. Looked back to Tubbo. “I’m in your basement. Why am I in your basement?”
“You tell us!” Tommy threw up his arms.
Tubbo frowned. “You’re the one appearing in my basement boss man.”
The enderman had the same red and green eye mutation Ranboo had. Strange… But they were definitely not Ranboo, that much was clear. They did not have a single white spot on their body - that Tubbo could see, at least - and their clothes were not anything Ranboo would have in his wardrobe. Light, flowy fabrics that give them an undefined silhouette and adorned in jewels and precious metals that Ranboo wouldn’t dare try and wear for risk of losing or scratching them.
“Well, I don’t know why!” They huffed, sheathing their sword and planting their hands on their hips. Their earrings swung with their attitude.
Their body language was so loud, punctuated by flourishing movements and wide gestures and animated expressions. Definitely not Ranboo-like. Ranboo was terrified to express an opinion beyond ‘please don’t kill me’ and ‘don’t kill other people’, which Tubbo was sorry to say weren’t the hottest takes out there. He also felt incredibly uncomfortable with even the idea of offending someone. This stranger clearly had no problem slinging insults.
“It’s not my fault, I’m --” Their eyes widened, they gasped dramatically, gaze sweeping over the boys in front of them. Scandalized, they asked, “Did you kidnap me?”
Tommy spluttered a bark of laughter.
“What?” Tubbo was taken aback. “No! We didn’t--! Why would we kidnap you?”
“We don’t even know you!” Tommy added, still laughing at the absurdity.
The enderman sniffed, raising their chin. “I seem to be here now, don’t I? And I wasn’t just a second ago!” Their tail lashed at their ankles.
“Seriously man, who the hell are you?” Tommy said, a grin on his face as he ran a hand through his hair.
The stranger leaned forward condescendingly to meet Tommy’s height and snarked back, “You, peasant, can call me Ranboo, thank you very much.”
Tommy gaped. “Hah—What!”
“Ranboo?” Tubbo repeated. What?? But, but — maybe it was a common name for enderman?
Ranboo the Double scowled at him, his earrings and chains swung. “Yes?”
“No, I just--” Tubbo evaluated. He flicked his sword back into his inventory. “Your name’s really Ranboo?”
“Yes!” They said indignantly, with a flip of their hands and an air that suggested they thought he was dense in the head.
“Cuz--we also know a guy. Whose name is Ranboo.” Tubbo explained.
That seemed to give them pause. They blinked. “That’s—weird.”
“Is it maybe, like, a more common name for enderman…?” Tubbo prodded.
“In this world?” They asked disregarding his question.
“What?” Tubbo’s eyes widened. What in the Lady’s name did they mean by that?
Ranboo II rolled their eyes like Tubbo was being the unreasonable one. “Like, there’s another person named Ranboo here, in this world, not in the End or the Nether?”
“Oh- yeah.” He answered. That made more sense. “Wait, the End? Like from the stories?”
“It’s real?” Tommy chimed in. He’d been watching the conversation with delight.
Ranboo II heaved a great sigh. “Yes, of course it’s real, are you stupid? Keep up.”
This dude’s attitude was really starting to drag on Tubbo’s patience. He heaved a sigh of his own. “Yeah, he’s here. In this world. He’s half enderman? Dunno if he’s from the-the End, though.”
“Well, if he’s an enderman he must be. All enderman are.” They tapped their chin. “I find it hard to believe he’s been named after me, though.”
Named after them? Who under Lady Prime’s sun do they think they are?? Tubbo voiced the thought aloud.
Ranboo snorted, a proud gleam shone in his eye. “Who do I think I am? I’m Ranboo the First, child of the Queen, Prince of the End and,” they smiled. “heir to the beloved kingdom and in line of succession to the throne. I could be king someday.”
He rattled off the titles like they mean anything to Tubbo. Tubbo, who, one: has no sense of significance for it because his only exposure to the title of King has really only been in regards to Eret and George - and that was mostly decorative, everyone knew Dream was the one with the power while the King was the puppet.
And two: Tubbo has been in the position of power twice now over a nation and currently a small community, and has had to make decisions that give him gray hairs and haunt him early hours of the morning. He’s well acquainted with being responsible for political choices that affect thousands of people and being a figurehead of a nation.
Tubbo, who doesn’t much give a shit at this moment because he is supposed to be figuring out exactly what kind of trade deal Snowchester made with Las Nevadas to get through the winter months and instead has been caught up in this bullshit. Remembering this, he groaned quietly and ran a hand over his eyes.
Tommy at least seemed to be enamored by the fancy labels. “Wow! That’s pretty pogchamp!”
Ranboo II squinted at him. “You…greatly remind me of someone.” They waved a hand and nodded smugly. “But yes, it is. And that’s why there’s no way someone could have the same name as me.”
“I mean…isn’t it like, common for people to name their babies after royalty?” Tubbo asked.
“No?? It’s not?”
“Good royalty, at least.” Tubbo amended.
They bristled. “My family is good royalty!”
Tubbo lifted his hands. “Just saying!”
“I don’t know how it works here, but in the End it is very disrespectful to name your child after living members of the royal family. And there’s no one dead named Ranboo. I’m the first.” They reminded him.
“Okay, okay, my bad.” Tubbo sighed, throwing his gaze to the ceiling as if praying for patience from some generous deity. He turned back to his papers and drawers. He really needed to find that trade deal document.
“Where is this other Ranboo? I want to see them.” Ranboo II demanded.
Tommy barked out a laugh. “Hah! Good question.”
“I have no idea where he is,” Tubbo said truthfully, pushing aside several sketches of redstone devices. Oh wait, that paper looked familiar. He pulled it closer.
“Also-- Who even are you people again?”
“I’m Tommy,” he said.
“Oh.” Ranboo II’s eyes widened. “Okay…”
“And that’s Tubbo.”
“Oh, uhh.” Ranboo II actually seemed to have lost their composure. “That’s. Huh, that’s. Very coincidental.”
Tubbo just hummed and skimmed over the trade agreement he'd finally found. He had so many things to do, and although a stranger in his basement was extremely weird, it was hardly more important than securing a safe winter for Snowchester.
Coincidental it was, in many ways they all had yet to realize.