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The day he turns seventeen, Tubbo discovers the truth. Since childhood, the idea of upholding family traditions has been practically shoved down his throat, though back then, he never questioned it. Now, he knows he isn’t a prince, nor does he possess the blood of the royal family.
He's a fake.
“I just don’t understand why they never told me.” Tubbo flops backwards onto his bed, legs flying into the air. “I probably would’ve been fine standing in for the real prince if they’d asked, but no, instead they decided to lie to me.”
Tubbo’s personal guard, who is standing by the door, frowns. “If I had to take a guess, they were probably worried you’d run off and make it public knowledge. The last thing the royal family would want is to get tied up in such a big scandal. It’d ruin them.”
Tubbo sits up and shoots a smirk in his personal guard’s direction. “You sure seem to know a lot about them to be saying that, Ranboo.”
Ranboo’s cheeks redden, and he averts his gaze. “I’m a guard; it’s kinda my job to know.”
Tubbo rolls his eyes, his expression softening into a playful smile. “Yeah, I know, I’m just fucking with you.”
Ranboo snorts. “You know Their Majesties would actually kill you if they heard you using that kind of language.” Tubbo simply shrugs, leaning back slightly.
“Considering I’m not their ‘real’ prince, I couldn’t give less of a shit.”
“You’re awfully confident I’m not just gonna go immediately inform Their Majesties of your conduct the moment we part ways.”
Tubbo quiets. “You– You’re not actually gonna do that though, right?” His eyes grow big; pleading, and Ranboo laughs.
“Nah, I wouldn’t do that to you. We’re friends.”
Friends.
Warmth blooms in Tubbo’s chest. Besides the Watson-Soot family, Tubbo doesn’t have many friends, which makes his bond with Ranboo all the more valuable.
“So… what’re you gonna do?”
Tubbo blinks. "What?"
Ranboo steps forward. “Well, you know the truth now, so… surely you’ve got, like, a plan? Going forward?”
Tubbo’s brow furrows. “Uh… kinda?” He averts his gaze. “I must’ve been chosen as a stand-in for a reason, so I’m probably just gonna keep playing along; see how far that gets me. Besides, I’m willing to bet this was all done because whoever the Crown Prince is doesn’t want anything to do with all… this.”
Ranboo bows his head, his expression pinched. “You’d be right.”
Ranboo’s hands are trembling. It doesn’t take Tubbo very long to connect the dots.
“Wait…” Tubbo’s brow furrows. “Ranboo, are you— No, surely not…”
The moment Ranboo lifts his head, Tubbo looks him dead in the eyes. He’s always been complimented for how observant he can be, though before now, he’s never paid it much mind.
“You’re fucking kidding,” he mutters, mostly to himself. Reluctantly, he hops off the bed and plants his hands on his hips as Ranboo shoots him a sheepish grin. “Okay, when people talk about ‘hiding in plain sight,’ I never actually expected that method to work. What the hell?”
Ranboo shrugs, once again averting his gaze. “It’s a long story.”
“I can imagine,” Tubbo responds, raising an eyebrow before smiling. “Which is why I’m not gonna ask.”
Ranboo blinks. “Wha—“
“Look; you have your reasons, and I have mine. And clearly neither of us are happy here.” Tubbo allows himself a moment to flash a triumphant grin. “Y’know what, fuck what I just said; screw playing along, let’s pretend neither of us have ties to the literal royal family and run away together!”
Tubbo swears he hears crickets in the silence that follows.
“I mean absolutely no offence,” Ranboo starts, “but are you insane?! The royal family kinda needs an heir—“
“That may be true, but considering you, the literal Crown Prince, aren't willing to take on that responsibility, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say royal life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows.”
Ranboo opens his mouth to protest, but thinks better of it. He’s known Tubbo for a long time; long enough to know when he’s lost an argument. “Okay, well, say we go through with this. Where would we go?”
“Oh, that’s easy. Y’know the village on the outskirts of the kingdom?”
Ranboo nods.
“I’ve got friends there; they’ll be more than happy to take us in.”
Ranboo bites his lip, feet shuffling awkwardly as his gaze drops to the ground. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t, um— Surely we’d be intruding?”
Tubbo rolls his eyes, affection and endearment clear in the action. “Ranboo, the Watson-Soot family practically raised me— Well, before I was dragged off to be a fake heir to the throne, that is. We’ll be fine, I promise.”
Ranboo looks up, eyes framed by his hair. Tubbo has expressed distaste for how long it is on occasion, but Ranboo simply refuses to cut it. “And if they figure out who I am…?”
“If they treat you any differently, I’ll kick their asses.” Tubbo holds his arms high over his head in a stretch. His back pops, and his arms flop back down to his sides. He plants one hand back on his hip, and reaches out to Ranboo with the other.
“So, are you in or what?”
Over the course of his life, Ranboo has made plenty of decisions he regrets.
Taking Tubbo’s hand isn’t one of them.