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They say time heals all wounds. That, eventually, any pain you may feel at the moment will ease and fade as you grow and go through life. For most, they simply take the words in and hope they ring true. That the loss of a loved one, a friendship turned sour, or even a breakup will fade and become something to reminisce or forget completely. Others don’t.
They learn to live with the pain, the kind that even the thought of that someone feels like a vice in your chest. Like someone is twisting your heart until it may break off like an apple from a branch. As time goes the pain becomes numb but ever present, memories playing behind their eyes as they watch life go on. Something as simple as a flower given as a gift becomes a symbol of a lifetime friendship.
A lifetime that, for some, it seems, will never come to an end.
~*oOo*~
A cloaked figure walked down the worn and well-traveled wooden path, the one that ran through the main part of the land that connected all of the once thriving and populated territories that made up the Essempi. This was not their first time down the path (that day is very special to them and held close to their heart) nor would it be their last. They looked at the decaying builds and remembered how the people who had built them beamed with pride or laughed at the absurdity of such a thing being seen by all yet never taken down.
Very few things were maintained in the land they once called ‘Home’, one such example is the museum that once belonged to a loving and accepting monarch. The building was cleaned and kept near-pristine by one other person like him, the man refusing to let the memories and history of this land go forgotten and untold. The fear of people repeating their past actions haunted the two semi-immortals who watched over this land; they never wanted to see a once close-knit and family-esque community torn apart by war, hatred, or drive for power ever again.
They walked up the steps and past a once lively red and white hotel. They stopped and looked across from it at the small inn, the homely and bee-themed aesthetic pulling at heartstrings that will never be fixed. It was well maintained and cleaned by the other caretaker of the land, another building they refused to let crumble into ruin along with the museum. They let a small smile dance across their lips at the clear care and gentleness the person took to keep it from falling apart, like replacing the glass and repairing the wood and concrete walls. The only sign of age being the untouched sign that hung above its door, slightly misspelled but carefully painted words naming it the ‘Bee & Boo Hotle’
~(0o*o0)~
A ram hybrid sat below them, watching as they placed the final blocks of their Inn. Hotel? They didn’t know, it felt too cozy to be a fancy Hotel like what Tommy was working on across the way.
“ Hey Boo! Are you done yet?” Their husband called from below, the enderling peaked over the edge at him and gave a small thumbs up. “All done Bee!” He replied, making his way down carefully.
They couldn't help but smile as they saw their son with small paint splatters on his overalls and face, their husband not looking much better, being just as messy as the toddler. “ Do we have an artist now? “ He teased, picking up the piglin who squealed happily at the motion and happily leaned into him after being settled on his dad's hip.
Their smile grew content as they watched their husband hand up the sign above the door, struggling a little with the height. As the ram managed to successfully hand the sign ( not without a few snickers and jabs at his expense which only got jabs back in response ) he stepped back and placed his hands on his hips that could only be described as a proper dad pose.
They walked up next to him, their free arm coming to rest behind him as they looked at their little inn.
It was perfect.
“I think you spelled ‘Hotel’ wrong.”
“I did no-shut up! I’m filling for divorce”
“ Again? Third time this week”
“And I’ll do it a fourth”
“ Please no…”
Truly perfect, for them.
~(0o*o0)~
A strong wind blew past, causing their deep purple cloak to flutter and the hood to fall down. They made no attempt to pull it up, no reason to hide in a place no one but a few travelers and maybe the occasional runaway came too. They ran a hand through his dual-toned hair that had long since grown out from years of travel, black and white intertwining in a braid that reached his lower back once they pulled it out of the cloak. They made a promise to an old friend that he wouldn’t cut it unless absolutely necessary, a tradition with certain hybrids and their status as warriors.
Smiling, they walked down the path and through the land of decaying builds with a few in between staying in near-perfect condition. As they walked, their ears twitched at the soft melody seeming to come from in front of them. A soft green emerald on a golden chain, twinkling softly with a few enchantments he had put on it to make sure it lasted, swaying with the movement. Had it been another day, he would have passed it off as a traveler or two making camp nearby. It was a fairly common occurrence and it was nice to see more people around even if he himself never really was anymore.
Except that he knew the voice like no one else; it was the voice he could remember singing soft lullabies to the two children they had taken under their care in youth during storms, the voice that would do everything in their power to try and make those around them happy, but most importantly it was the voice that greeted him when he first stepped foot on this land.
They sped up as they neared the rebuilt community house, one of the most cared for and traversed places in the land. They found the old blueprints and followed it to the measure, a few curses and burns later and it stood an exact replica of the one that began this land and its story. It was always well stocked with supplies and materials for anyone who came through, most theorized it was enchanted to always be plentiful. The two immortals found it funny, knowing it was them who always stocked and made the materials inside the place.
They felt their tail swishing happily behind them as they walked inside the building, the song becoming clearer than before as they closed the door behind them. The singer walked down the spiral staircase in the middle of the building with a box in hand, the dull glow indicating it was full of freshly made potions. The person was in a cloak similar to their own except that it was a deep red with a gold clip closing it instead of their own silver one, flame-colored thread embroidered the bottom with swirling and floral designs that contrasted the sea-colored thread that wove glyphs and wave-like patterns on his own.
Their golden hair now showed a few more streaks of white, signs they’d fallen into the cold embrace of their Mother Death only to leave just as easily. They had it tied back into a ponytail with a purple and green silk ribbon, a gift from many years ago that had yet to show wear. They placed the crate down near an almost empty shelf and stretched, fiery wings extending and giving a few gentle flaps from being confined to their cloth cage. “ Fucking hell, hate restocking this shit all day…” They complained lightly, oblivious to their old friend in the doorway.
“ And I thought years of traveling would have widened your vocabulary. “ The other remarked, making the blond whip around as they held back a laugh at their shocked but excited expression. “ Holy shit, Ranboo?”
Ranboo didn’t get the time to brace himself as the phoenix hybrid basically tackled him in a hug, the enderman letting out a startled chirp before purring softly as they returned the hug. Warmth radiating off the firebird and soothing the chill that never left his bones, end-based hybrids usually had low core temperatures so the comforting heat his friend always radiated felt nice. “ Nice to see you too Tommy “
Tommy let out a soft chirp in response to the gentle tone, the taller returning it with an enderian equivalent without hesitation as they moved from the hug and took each other in. It had been a while since they last saw each other, they did talk over coms sometimes but not as much as when they first separated. Where Tommy was once a young teen with fresh scars and more trauma than a child should ever have to deal with, now stood a man looking closer to his mid-twenties who carried himself with confidence and ease. The world no longer sits on his shoulders with everyone against him for just trying to keep afloat the river of life and war, free and relaxed as he can be.
Ranboo had also changed, his lack of backbone and flimsy combat had been hardened into a hybrid with top-notch combat skills that rivaled the legendary Blood God and Angel of Death themselves. Which he always found funny since most people don’t realize he spent most of his formative years under their training and was still quite close with his old mentors. He may be nearing his first half of a millennia, but he still had plenty of time to get better. A subtle goal to outdo his old friends just for the hell of it, they always liked it when they were posed a challenge.
“ Prime, it's been years mate. How have you been? How’s Philza? The old bastard.” Tommy quipped, moving to keep stocking while they talked. They had long worked past their grievances but some bad blood still ran under their relationships like tar, the blond never kept close with his father or brother figures after he left the main part of the server.
Ranboo walked over and began to help, easily reaching the tallest shelves much to the blond immortal's annoyance if the glare sent his way had anything to say about it. They just returned it with a knowing smirk before going back to stocking supplies “ Oh fine, just got back from one of Phil’s old places, Endlantis? Ever hear of it?”
Tommy shook his head “ It's really pretty, full of water but the enchantments we found a while back let me explore it. It's an entire ocean biome in the end Toms, it's so cool. It has reefs and fish and such, it's got some interesting history as well. Phil told me about it a while back but I forget most of it given it's been a few decades. “ Ranboo said excitedly, his favorite part of traveling was when he managed to find places Phil, Techno, or even Tommy had managed to build up over the years before leaving it self-sustaining and moving on.
So far he had run into the Arctic Empire and Business Bay from the trio’s early days, Endlantis from when Phil mainly kept to himself and the god realms, a re-designed Nether Fortress that just screamed Technoblades doing with how it was organized, and a small kingdom off the ways from a well-managed trading route who once had a king named Theseus. Just markers of his friends' travels and acknowledgment that they were doing fine and well as the years went by without constant contact. He knows they ran into things he built and did as well, not as grand but apparently leaving a mark that led to him.
Phil once sent him a picture of his mining map and called him out on all the damn tunnel systems he made under the length of the SMP, Techno had found a small place that was being reconstructed to house his chorus fruit trees and ended up making a forest biome into a chorus biome, and Tommy had once found his old lab from back when he was trying to figure out why his memory was so shotty and began experimenting. He got an earful for that one considering a few of those tests weren’t the most…safe and he did still have a few scars from pushing himself too far several times.
“ That sounds pretty pog, I think I know what you’re talkin’ about but I may be thinking of one of his other builds from a while back. “ Tommy chuckled as he smiled at the memory “ He was remodeling this Sea Temple or some shit and wanted to know if he should change it to grass or coral, I liked the coral he was going with and Wilbur hated it. He preferred the dirt of all things to the coral. “
Ranboo raised an eyebrow at that “Tommy Innit not liking dirt? What timeline is this? Cause I don’t wanna leave if you actually have good taste in this one. “ he teased.
“ Oh fuck off, you massive prick! I didn’t say I didn’t like the dirt, just that I prefer the coral “ Tommy defended, glaring as he set a few speed potions on the bottom shelf. Ranboo leveled him with a blank look “ Tommy, I remember you once ate mud because you refused to eat my spaghetti. You chose to eat literal wet dirt, your preference in things could make gods question reality.“
Tommy smoothed out his expression, tone even “ Now, I said I didn’t want to talk about that. Also, you had been making spaghetti for a week at that point and I swore if I had to eat another fucking stringy ass noodle I would stab you. So in reality, I was doing you a favor, bitch. “
“ By…eating mud.”
“ Yes.”
“ You ate mud, so you didn’t have to eat my cooking, so you didn’t ‘have’ to stab me?”
“ Yep “
They stared down one another, one smiling smugly while the other looked so done with this conversation he might as well have aged another hundred years. The two broke and started laughing, joyful and full of life and energy. Like no time had passed between the two.
They spent the rest of the day recounting travels and discoveries they made. Turns out Tommy can age just extremely slowly and, according to Kristen, will be reborn once he burns out. Like how a fire will burn for as long as it’s tended to, Tommy’s flame is burning on a slowly crumbling piece of netherrack. Once it’s gone, he starts over from ‘level one’ as he calls it. Ranboo thinks he’s still a child though, at least at heart…and maybe mind.
“I told you not to eat that! “ Ranboo admonished, snatching away the ingredients for a speed potion he left on the table. “ What? I’m just seeing if I can simply ingest the ingredient and cook the potion in me. Shortcuts.” Tommy justified as he licked the sugar and blaze powder mixture off his hand.
Ranboo just stared at the phoenix before sighing and pinking his brow “Shortcuts are for roads and busy cities. Not, I repeat, NOT for making potions. How could you even begin to think that’s a good idea?!”
Tommy stared at the enderman before tiling his head “ You seem stressed man, here “ he said, pulling out a golden carrot and handing it to the confused and baffled enderman “ Have a carrot, calm yourself “
Ranboo stared at the carrot and then Tommy before walking over and pulling the now confused blond into a hug.
“Uh…Ran?”
Ranboo held him tighter before whispering “ How…how have you survived this long without dying to your own idiotic ideas? You poor soul..”
Tommy quickly pushed him away, ignoring the small smile on the endermans face as he yelled at them “ You dramatic fucking prick! Absolute asshole, I survived just fine on my fucking own! I am not a child, I’m fucking 416 years old!”
“ And you tried to eat a freaking spider eye to somehow create a potion inside your body because that's logic!” Ranboo retorted, crossing his arms.
“ Oh look at me! I’m Ranboo and I know potions, meh meh meh “ Tommy mocked, Ranboo trying and failing to hide the smile he got, laughing a little as he spoke. “ First of all, I don’t sound like that and second, I spent 150 years studying them with Techno. “
Tommy scoffed “ Oh yea, and I bet that fucking perfectionist didn’t let you stop till you got it right. Like when me and Tubbo were training for the rebellion, right Tubs?” he asked, a small smile playing onto the blonds as he waited for the expected retort. Except there was none, both men losing the smiles they had gained as the air went cold.
Because they were missing one person, a voice no one in the room would ever hear again. No snide comeback or playful banter from the ram they had both called their best friend. Who they spent the rest of his mortal life with. Because that was what Tubbo Underscore Beloved was, mortal. Unlike them.
Ranboo still remembered being by his husband as he passed, his son at his side and Tommy on the other side of the bed. The phoenix refused to leave his best friend's side, especially in his final moments. An offer was made, a feather for a life, but it was refused. Living the life he had was good enough for him and that was that. Tubbo had lived a life he wanted to, after he left the Essempi for a bit, he went on to build contraptions of all kinds, meet hundreds of new people, and make amends with old friends along the way. In the end, the ram had control of his life. A perfect ending for the scarred soul that was his husband.
It eases the pain, but it never disappears. He often caught himself moving to call Tubbo or looking to his side to speak to the ram but finding the space empty and the line dead. Ranboo often thought of him, of jokes and quips he’d make seeing the situations the enderman has gotten himself into or just in general to lighten a mood.
He knew Tommy was the same, maybe worse off, seeing as the two had grown up together. Born apart but bonded for life as brothers, in arms or in heart. The loss of a person that close is not something you simply heal from, you don’t just forget or ‘move on’. The wound is still fresh and the memories of the ram are sat in the forefront and clear as day.
Ranboo offers his hand out to the blond, choosing to not comment on the tears forming and slipping down the other's cheeks. He’s not surprised when the blond takes it and follows them to a bed and settles them both down.
Tommy quickly curled up in the bed with his back against the wall and a wing unconsciously wrapping around the enderman as they sat next to the distressed phoenix. The two sat in silence as one tried to regain his composure and the other gently held his hand to remind him he wasn't alone. A soothing motion calming them both as Ranboo rubbed his thumb across Tommy's knuckles.
Tommy sniffled a little and let out a small laugh, catching the olders attention “ You know, Tubbo would so be making fun of us for getting so fucking weepy over him” He said, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.
Ranboo smiled a little “Yeah, probably call us ‘babies’ or ‘idiots’ “ he chuckled as he spoke, imagining the ram doing just that. Tommy smiled “ You know, he used to headbutt me when we were kids and I had no idea what it meant so I would do it back? “
Ranboo giggled “ With how hard-headed he was, that must've hurt “ he quipped, earning a small but joyful laugh from the blond “ You have no fucking idea. Like, this one time…” Tommy started, retelling small stories of Tubbo in his youth and the antics they used to get up to as kids before the Essempi. Ranboo would chime in with anecdotes from when he was married to the ram, the two spend the night making jokes and remembering their other third. The one piece of their puzzle they will never have back but will always remember.
For some, forgetting is easier.
For others, remembering is too hard
But for these two, sometimes remembering is more helpful than forgetting.