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Ranboo knows a lot of things. In fact, he’s pretty sure he knows almost everything.
He knows the Roof is his, despite claims to the contrary. He knows the Overworld is warm, the Nether is hot, and the End is bone-chillingly cold. (And empty. And lonely.) He knows water hurts the same as lava, and people who spend their entire lives inside it are weird. (The sole exception to the rule is Niki. Only because she makes the best cookies. No other reasons…)
He knows that Tubbo and Tommy are his friends. He knows that they think the same of him. He knows that Tubbo is an evil genius, but is willing to kill for the people he cares about. He knows that behind the abrasive, aggressive facade, Tommy is a genuine softy who would put out the sun if someone asked him to. He knows that they folded him into their little group when he stumbled out from the Portal, disoriented and confused (but not afraid. Princes are never afraid.) and haven’t let him go since.
He knows a lot of things. But he doesn’t quite understand the whole “gift” thing. Why would you give someone your things? It’s yours first, why give it to someone else? And for nothing in return? That just doesn’t make sense.
But he overheard Wilbur and Phil talking about gifts one day, about how it’s to show people that you love them. His mind flashed to the Apian and Avian, the other halves of himself, and he decided right then and there to figure out this “gift” thing if it’s the last thing he does.
He finds something for Tubbo almost instantly. A thick book on Enderian engineering, translated from Ender, bought from a passing merchant. Ranboo knows Tubbo will love the descriptions of reactors and contraptions and other devices. He carefully wraps it in sparkling green paper and tucks it underneath his floorboards.
Tommy is a different story. Tommy’s… Tommy’s the whole reason Ranboo’s here to be honest. He dragged him out of the house every day for months, forcing him to get to know his new neighbors. He’s quick to tell Ranboo when he’s done something wrong, but quicker to praise him when he’s done something right. He includes him in everything, from training sessions to scheming sessions to cuddling sessions. So whatever Ranboo gets him, it has to be perfect. But he has zero ideas. None. Nada. Zilch. Ranboo may be a prince, may be the Smartest and Most Handsome person in the entire community, but he’s completely stumped on what to get his fiery friend. So he decides to do something he never thought he’d stoop to.
Asking for help.
1.
“A gift?” Wilbur tilts his head this way and that, large yellow eyes glowing in the darkness of his library. Skeletal wings rattle behind him as his face lights up with joy. “Oh I know! You can never go wrong with a book!”
Ranboo sputters as the Phantom disappears into the stacks behind him, prattling on about anything and everything. “Here, we just got this one in today! A History of Empires, a Complete Guide!” He waves a massive leather bound volume in the air before dropping it suddenly. It hits the ground with a deafening thud that has Ranboo flinching back.
“Oh oh or this one!” Wilbur’s voice gets more distant as he delves further into his collection. “An Idiot’s Guide to Farming Potatoes! That sounds like a good gift!”
“Wilbur I—,”
“Or what about A City in the Mist? A murder mystery under the ocean!” That sends a shiver down Ranboo’s spine.
Wilbur continues to ramble about the various books in his library, even as the chime on the door jingles to signal Ranboo’s exit.
2.
Phil rubs his chin with his hand, staring off into the distance. “Well, you can never go wrong with a good pair of socks.”
Ranboo gapes, trying not to choke on his own saliva. Socks? What kind of a gift are socks?
“Especially a nice wool pair. They last you for a good long while, are warm enough for high altitude flights, and if you know what you’re doing you can darn ‘em in a pinch.”
“That’s… a nice idea Mr. Minecraft,” Ranboo acquiesces, fiddling with his claws. “But I don’t think socks are exactly what I’m looking for.”
“Not socks? Then what about a good pair of underwear? Those are always a good last minute idea.” Phil beams, wings puffing up behind him proudly.
Ranboo groans internally as Phil continues to speak, scrubbing a hand across his face.
3.
“Give ‘em something that explodes!” Tubbo practically vibrates with excitement. His wings buzz loudly behind him as he hovers in front of Ranboo’s eyes.
“Why would I do that?” Frustration laces every syllable.
“Because it’s funny. Why not?”
“Because it could kill someone? Or seriously hurt someone?”
Tubbo shrugs. “Eh, they’ll heal. Or respawn. Doesn’t matter. Think of the kaboom! The chaos, Ranboo, the CHAOS!”
“I’d rather not, thank you.”
“Why are you so boring all the time? I’ll go find Sneegsnag, he’ll blow someone up with me.”
“And I’ll get Scott.” Tubbo visibly pales, eyes wide and scared. “That’s what I thought.”
4.
Jack putters behind the counter of the Pub(e), pouring pints and mixing drinks as quickly as he can. The blaze rods floating around his shoulders spin in a furious dance as he slides them down the bar.
“A gift, ay? Well the best kinda gift is a round right here in me Pub. Ain’t nothin’ better, not here and not anywhere else.”
“That sounds like a wonderful time, but what if they’re not old enough to drink?” Ranboo traces the woodgrain on the counter with a claw.
“Not old enough to drink!? What kinda rubbish is that? Everyone’s old enough to drink in MY pub.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s against the law, but okay.”
5.
“Carrots.”
Ranboo gulps as Technoblade stares him dead in the eyes, chewing on a carrot of his own.
“I’m not sure if that’s exactly—,”
“Carrots. Lots of carrots,” Techno repeats with the exact same inflection. His face never changes from the deadpan stare. His ears twitch slightly. “Everyone loves carrots.”
Ranboo gives him a wobbly smile, “I guess there are—,”
“Everyone.”
“… Right. Everyone.”
+1.
He sits down at the edge of the lake with a sigh, flopping back on the grass with a melodramatic groan. This is pointless. If figuring out what to give someone is so difficult, why even give gifts in the first place? It’s such a worthless hassle.
“Ranboo? Are you alright?”
A soft, warm voice startles him from his thoughts. He sits straight up with a chirp, eyes wide. Niki peeks her head out from the water, concern and worry bright in her eyes. Pink hair pools around her shoulders as she swims closer to him, careful not to splash at the water’s edge.
“Hi Niki…”
“What’s wrong?” She rests her arm on the bank, her pink tail swishing idly through the water behind her.
“I… it’s nothing. I’m fine.” Ranboo keeps his eyes on the ground.
“If it was nothing, you wouldn’t be looking so sad. You can tell me if you want.” She doesn’t sound judgmental, only open and honest.
“It’s… I’ve been trying to figure out what to give someone. As— As a ‘gift’. But it’s pointless. I’m never gonna find the perfect thing.”
“Why does it have to be perfect? The whole point of a gift is to show someone that you love them. It could be as small as a letter, or as big as a hand-built monument. All that really matters is the thought put into it.” Niki pushes herself up onto the shore to sit next to Ranboo, far enough away that she doesn’t accidentally drip on him.
“No matter what you give him, he’ll love it. Not because it’s perfect, but because it’s from you.”
Ranboo blinks. His mind races. An idea pops into his head. It’s perfect. He smiles.
“I got it!” He looks over to Niki in triumph. She gives him a warm smile. “Thank you!”
“It’s never a problem. Now get going, before the sun sets.” She slips back into the water with a smile and a wave.
(He can’t stop the embarrassment from crawling up his throat when he goes to give his friends their gifts. Tubbo immediately starts devouring the book, flipping through pages and pages of schematics and explanations with a hungry, mischievous look in his eye. Tommy looks at him with a quirked eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing on the edge of his lip when Ranboo all but throws the bouquet of alliums in his face.
Tommy blinks down at them, speechless for a long moment, and Ranboo’s stomach opens up into a yawning void. He screwed up. He screwed up so bad.
And then Tommy’s face lights up into his signature sunshine smile.
“Thanks Big Man. I fucking love them. Now here,” Tommy grabs his wrist and tugs him towards their tree. “It’s flower crown time. We’re gonna make the best, biggest, most poggers flower crowns in the universe.”
Sitting in the shade of the oak tree, clumsily weaving stems together while Tubbo laughs in the grass and Tommy gently corrects his mistakes, Ranboo understands now. There’s nothing quite like knowing you’re the one who put a smile on someone’s face. Especially someone you love.)