#i would have preferred tubbo be the one to raise Michael over ranboo

[embers-archive]

AUUUUUUGH thinking about c!tubbo again

I love when people explore tubbos character, not only as the child soldier, but also as a father

Him being rough around the edges but still giving so much love to his son. The lengths he goes to ensure Michael has a better life than he did

Thinking about how Michael was the only person he loved that didn't die/ leave him

[votederpycausemufins]

Alright, time to work on tying up loose ends ish. i think there’s like... 2 chapters left after this? idk, I’m still writing!

@petrichormeraki @helleborusangel

While most everyone wanted Grifter dead, the fact that he was the only way to free Xannes made them keep him alive. They did manage to get the Listener to let him out, but at the same time, he let his own family out as well before disappearing with them. Fortunately as they left, the world rolled back, undoing all the damage as well as leaving Grian rather grumpy that his hard work was gone.

Shortly after that, everyone had to keep Grian and Techno apart when the avian tried attacking him for being near Grum, who to Grian’s annoyance seemed perfectly fine around the warrior. He reluctantly accepted it, only to get piled on again as he tried to make a second nest. 

Xannes hacked them all out of the castle, at least those he could. Kristen and Joe followed on their own a few moments later, everyone soon at the quartz mansion. Grian was immediately after as many blankets as he could obtain, Tommy laughing, but quickly helped out. 

Kristen stayed for a bit, long enough to officially say hello to Grian once he was lucid enough, but stayed longer after Grum clung to her leg and refused to let go. Eventually she relented and got pulled into Grian’s blanket nest, Grum running off to drag Techno in next.

“So… how have you two been?” Kristen asked, before correcting herself. “Besides this whole mess that got me involved.”

“It’s been pretty pog since I found Grian. We didn’t even know we were related until, what? A week ago?”

“I’m sorry. I honestly had no clue.” Kristen apologized, but Grian shrugged.

“I don’t blame you. I ended up in a world that death didn’t seem to exist in, at least not really. People who died showed up as ghosts. So even if I did remember your job, I wouldn’t have blamed you there. Then there were the Watchers, and then apparently Zed’s been dealing with things in Hermitcraft. I- are you two related?”

“Yes, we’re siblings.” Kristen replied, shocking both Grian and Tommy.

Zedaph, who was nearby, stepped closer. “Why do you look so shocked? I thought you knew, or at the very least I thought Grian knew.”

“Is that why you acted so casual when you asked me to kill myself?!” Grian balked, making Kristen whip around to look at Zed.

“You asked him to what?!”

“It was for a game! I asked a number of hermits to see who could kill themselves the fastest for a prize! Honestly, I don’t see what the problem was since he started Demise a year later.”

“That was sort of my last shot to find anyone. I thought so much death would make Mum show up.”

“Well, as far as I know, she wasn’t even showing up for Phil after you left, so not like there was much hope there.” Tommy shrugged, though he said it in a joking manner. It still made Kristen frown before Tommy elbowed her. “Hey. It’s fine. I mean, we’re meeting you now and not before we found each other again, so that’s pretty pog too.”

As the two of them chatted, Grian managed to find some paper and ink and started putting together a quick family tree before handing it to Techno to fill in the blank of Fundy’s mom. “Alright, so Wil, Techno, Tommy and I are the kids of you and Phil. Wilbur’s got Fundy with someone named Sally?” Grian quickly looked to Techno who nodded. “Sally. Mumbo and I built Grum and Jrum, meanwhile Techno and Tommy don’t have any kids.”

“Yeah I’m still looking for the ladies.” Tommy jokingly boasted, getting some chuckles from those nearby.

“And I don’t see the point in relationships.”

“Aro, got it.”

“I prefer fireworks. I don’t need arrows.”

Grian stifled some chuckles before continuing. “You’re siblings with Zed, who’s currently with Impulse and Tango, which I’m not going to go further into for my own sanity. And then you and Dad are immortal or something, so who knows about your parents.”

Kristen nodded. “Good, but you’re forgetting your uncle.”

Grian showed off the chart. “What? No, I’ve got Zed there with Impulse and Tango. If you’re going with the misconception that Worm Man is related, I’ll have you know that Poultry Man has assured me that’s not the case. Plus Zedaph has an interview with Worm Man and they are definitely in the same place.”

Kristen half nodded. “Oh, I’m sure that’s very much the case. However, I’m talking about Phil’s brother.”

“Mum, I’m glad to meet you and everything, but could you have waited like another week to drop that on us too?” Tommy asked as Grian looked like he was on the edge of a breakdown.

“So, should I not mention he has-”

“Nope! Not now! And we’ll ask dad ourselves.”

“I was just a hermit a week ago. I was technically still an orphan. I had the hermits as a family. Now some of them are really my family. Why? Why? Why is this happening?”

“Okay G, time to go to bed.” Tommy said, pulling one of the blankets out of the nest and throwing it over Grian’s head, hoping the darkness would kick in Grian’s parrot brain and get him to calm down. 

It was just at the right time too, because the door opened with Phil coming into the building. “How’s everyon- Kristen?!”

From there, all of the family currently in that world - other than Zedaph - ended up in Grian’s blanket nest. They chatted a bit before Kristen eventually had to leave, though she made sure to let all of them know how to call her if there was an emergency. Zedaph finally joined to take her place, getting glared at by Grum of all people. “You doing alright there?”

“I’m upset I didn’t know you were my uh… great uncle?”

“Grunkle has a better ring to it.” Zedaph smiled, but Grum just pouted and crossed his arms before being pulled into a hug from Grian. “But yeah, I’m sorry Grian. I can’t believe I never noticed you didn’t know.”

“No, it’s fine. I had a crazy enough story with my family growing up, what’s five more.”

“Five?” Phil asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Grian started counting on his fingers. “Finding out that Tommy was my brother, the whole situation Techno caused, finding our Zedaph is related to me, finding out you’ve got a brother, and then Mum mentioning there was more to that.”

Phil sighed. “Oh, she told you about that? Okay first off, we’re half brothers, so that’s normally why he’s left out of things. Plus, he’s been doing his own thing for a while. I haven’t really heard from him since his letters about Minecrack.”

Grian paused, processing that new information before grabbing one of the blankets and screaming into it, Grum patting his dad on the back.

“Is he okay?” Phil asked, making Zedaph shake his head.

“Some of the hermits used to live there, so one of them might have met your brother. Sorry, half brother.”

“Ah, good to know.”

Grian slowly put the blanket down. “Okay, obviously talking is just making things worse. How about we all shut up for like… ten minutes while we still have some peace? I’m scared if we try much else, something else will come out of the woodwork and make things worse again.”

“Ugh, normally I’d hate not talking,” Tommy piped up with an agreeing groan. “But for once, you’ve got a point.”

“For once?!”

Tommy didn’t say anything else, just mimed zipping his lips up, locking them, and throwing away the key.

.

.

.

Grian woke up, glad it wasn’t from a nightmare. He, Tommy and Grum were the only ones left in the nest from before, but he smiled upon seeing the empty space had been given to Tommy’s friends. Ranboo seemed to have been dragged in based on his awkward position, likely by Tubbo and Michael who seemed much more comfortable.

Looking around, it didn’t seem anyone else was in the room, voices coming from elsewhere in the building. Grian carefully moved Grum closer to Tommy, the bot happily clinging to the teen instead. He then pulled himself out of the nest, doing his best not to wake anyone in the process.

He was glad to see everyone looked calm and nothing immediately seemed concerning. The closest thing was what looked like a living diamond walking around, but the fact that no one else was concerned made it less worrying. “So, who’s the new… person I think.”

Phil looked over to where Grian was standing now. “His name’s Skeppy. When the world got repaired, the people that weren’t already revived showed up. It also fixed my wings.” And he let one of them open up so Grian could see.

“Good to know. Nothing bad’s happened yet?” Grian asked, and Phil shook his head. “That’s good. Once Grum and Tommy are away, I’m going to be taking them home. I mean, unless Tommy wants to stay, because he might want to see people again, but Grum still needs repairs. Plus I need to talk with Mumbo about something I found out.”

“Anything bad?”

Grian shook his head. “Not necessarily, just something we need to be aware of.” Then Grian was quiet for a while before speaking up again. “You know, ever since I found it again, I’ve been taking care of the castle.”

“You mean… back in-?”

“Yeah. The place I grew up in has way too many bad memories attached. Evo’s gone and my building world is lonely. Hermitcraft is the closest thing I have to a home, but being able to take a break and go back there helps.”

Phil smiled. “Well, you’ll have to show me what you’ve done with the place.”

“Yeah.” Grian smiled. “I’ll try to visit with Tommy plenty. I’m sure you want to stay here now that it looks like things are calmed down. I’m sure you’ll want to visit us, or at least someone will, so I’ll look into that.”

“Just don’t go silent for eighteen years.” Phil joked, making Grian whack him in the back of his head with a wing.

From there, the two of them chatted, catching up. Both of them avoided the more unfavorable topics, which was a bit tricky, but they managed. At least they did for a while. “Hey… I’m sorry. I know I screwed up with Tommy.”

“Can we not talk about that?” Grian said, ruffling his feathers. “Enough has happened. I don’t want to talk about serious stuff right now.”

“Well who knows when we’ll get another chance.”

Grian sighed. “Fine, but I’m making it quick. Since you’re not going to be around, I’m just trusting you’ll maybe do better. I can check in any time I want, so just know if you screw up, there’s a good chance I’ll see it. There’s a good chance I’ll break down your door if I heard more stories from Tommy, but for like the next week or so, you’re safe. Is that good enough?”

Phil hesitated for a moment before responding. “Alright, sure.”

As soon as he responded, Grian went back to the other room, glad to see Tommy was awake. When Grian replayed the options to Tommy, the teen thought it over before deciding he would stay behind for a little bit at the very least. He didn’t want to disappear while Ranboo and Tubbo were both asleep. Grian made sure Tommy still had NPG’s old comm so that he could call for Grian to pick him up again.

Grian carefully picked Grum up, the bot clinging to his chest, then he opened a portal to take them home. 

.

.

.

Grian was glad that the repairs ended up being mostly his job to fix. The redstone seemed unharmed, save for right near the trident wound and Grum’s buttons. Technically the buttons themselves were mainly aesthetic anyway, but some redstone was close by so they needed to be careful.

Once everything was fixed, they plugged Grum in to be safe and then Grian started explaining what he had learned. Mumbo was surprised and excused himself briefly to try contacting people for information. For the most part, he was able to get help, but in terms of whatever glitch the bots had, the information was too vague for anyone to get a good guess.

Grian got Xisuma to take a look, but unfortunately the admin couldn’t figure anything out. Neither could Xannes, but that was affected by NPG wanting to go home soon and check in his aerbunny.

With no other options, Grian was ready to use his Watcher magic, but he was quickly interrupted. Suddenly Grifter was there and threw himself into Grian’s arms, leaving the Watcher struggling to hold his double up before just dropping him. “What are you doing here?”

“Hiding?” Grifter answered innocently. “I kinda messed up, though Dad did too.”

“What did you do?” Grian growled as Grifter stood up and dusted himself off.

“Okay, so dad wanted me killing Nightmare. That’s cool, I did that. He just kinda let it slip his mind that he didn’t tell Punch. So now until Dad talks him down, I’m hiding here! Also watching for spies. Who knows where they could be hiding.”

Grian half groaned, half sighed. “How do I know you’re not going to destroy the place?”

“Uh, because that would make it obvious I’m here, duh. Look, just tell me what you want and I’ll do it. I mean, if it’s something other than leaving. I’m sticking here because if I get seen here, he’ll assume it’s just you. Wait, I’m going to need to get out of my new look. That’s no fun, I really like th-”

“Okay shut up for like five seconds. I don’t have the patience for this today. You said there was something of a glitch with my kids. Tell me what it is or fix it or something and you can stay for a bit. If you cause any trouble, you’re out though.”

“Oh yes of course!” Grifter responded, hugging Grian. “Okay, so the problem is kinda pretty simple. They aren't completely connected to this world so other data is being used to check where they’re from. If everything’s just within this world, it’s fine, but it fucks up their respawn if it’s not.”

“That’s… that’s it?”

“Yup! Just tell your admin and I’m sure he can- OH FUCK! Gimmie your bowwwww!” Grian suddenly started doing his best to climb Grian, having little luck with them being the same height. Grian did his best to keep his balance before seeing what exactly was freaking his hels copy. Nearby, a chicken had walked into view, and apparently that was the problem.

Grian gave a deadpan look before killing the chicken, which immediately calmed Grifter down. “You were scared… of a chicken?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I said he could be sending spies!”

“And… those are chickens?”

“Yes! Of course!” Grifter exclaimed like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Grian wanted to sigh in exasperation, but then he realized that this was good news. If for some reason Grifter acted up, well, a certain hero could help save the day.

“Alright, maybe this might not be the safest place for you here, but you can stay.”

“Why? Why isn’t it safe? Are there lots of spies?”

“Oh, we have the worst one yet. His name is Poultry Man. Have you ever heard of him.”

“I have! I thought Xannes was lying! He’s really real?!” Grifter asked, trembling, making Grian have to hold in laughter.

“Well, he hasn’t been around for a while, but who knows? If - you said Punch? - if he’s looking for you, Poultry Man might show up.”

“Oh no! Do you have anything to stop him?”

Grian couldn’t help the sly smile that got onto his face. “Well…”

.

.

.

Grum watched as Mumbo looked through a bunch of books. He had gotten fixed up, but his daddy said there was still something they needed to figure out, so Dad was out doing that. But he had left a while ago and sitting in one place for a long time was getting boring. “Daddy, how much longer do I have to wait here?”

Mumbo jumped slightly before looking up from his book, which just made Grum frown. Obviously he had been forgotten about. “Um, well, I suppose that depends on what your dad does.”

“But I’ve just been sitting here for ages.” Grum crossed his arms.

“I know, but apparently there’s a bug in your system and until we can identify it, we want to keep you safe. You’ve already been through a lot, I’m sure you don’t want anything more happening.”

“But Daddy I-”

“Grum, this isn’t up for discussion.” Mumbo cut the bot off, who flinched back at the harsh tone. “I know. I don’t like it either. But sometimes the harder options are the better ones.”

Grum was quiet again, just thinking. Mumbo started to look at his book again, but then the bot spoke up once more. “Is it about Console? Or my chat in general?”

“What?” Mumbo looked back up, confused.

“Well, Jrum’s not here, so it has to be something that’s just me, correct? That would likely involve when the admin was using me as a console or the fact that I have gained a chat like Techno, Phil and, based on conversation, Dad.”

“Oh, you mean MFDD? At least I’m still pretty sure that’s what we said it was. I’d have to go digging for my old books again. And Grian might have them at this point.”

“What’s MFDD?” Grum asked, tilting his head.

“It’s the abbreviation for the condition we’re pretty sure Grian has. But it’s a condition that last I checked, was still in a sort of odd state, and I’ve been in Hermitcraft since school, so I’m not updated on it.” Mumbo glanced over to Grum, who just looked confused. “Right. Well, the simple version is that’s what the real name of your Dad’s ‘chat’ is. MFDD. But based on what he told me, that’s not what you have.”

“Oh. Wait, I don’t?” Grum asked, sounding worried and slightly panicked.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. It’s nothing bad. I’m sure we’ll need to get it properly diagnosed, but the fact that you seem to have what’s like… multiple people in your mind and they can sometimes be in control, along with the fact that it happened after… stressful events. That all likely means it’s DID. Which essentially means you have multiple personalities.”

“And is that good or bad?”

Mumbo rubbed his mustache. “Well, I don’t think it’s necessarily good or bad in and of itself. I wish I knew more about this… In short, it’s at the very least not bad. Or at least not bad if you don’t let it be bad.”

“I still don’t understand.” Grum frowned, leaving Mumbo to try and figure out some other way to explain.

“Hmm… It’s. Uh… Well let’s see. Well it… no that wouldn’t make sense. It’s… Oh! So, when you’re building, say you make a house. And the house has a bunch of rooms. It’s all one house, but there are different rooms and um… well each one has its own person.” Grum nodded along, mostly understanding. “And well, you own the house even though others live there. Because you own the house, you’re in charge.”

“But sometimes I’m not. Like Console and Eyes decide to be in charge or I let them.”

“Well, sometimes something… happens. Like maybe you’re busy… cooking? And so if you’re doing that, someone else gets to be in charge. Or maybe you just want to… sit on the couch?”

Grum’s digital mustache twitched in thought before he nodded. “Okay, I think that makes sense.”

Mumbo nodded, turning back to his books before sighing, glad that what he made up on the spot worked. 

“Mumbooooo! I’m back! I figured out what’s wrong! We need to take the boys to Xisuma!” Mumbo jumped from Grian arriving, then was confused to see two of him.

“Why is Grifter here?”

“Long story, it’s fine for now, we need Xisuma. Let’s go go go!”

Mumbo just stared for a moment before sighing and shrugging before going to get Jrum. It didn’t seem like anything bad was happening, so there was a fifty fifty shot it really was fine. Maybe less since there were two Grian’s involved, but it was something Mumbo came to expect with Grian in general.

[dramaticsnakes]

The Revived - Chapter 5: Domestic Peace

This is chapter 5 of the Dream SMP multichapter fic @rainbowbutterfrosting​ and I wrote together! I hope you’ll enjoy!

Also! We recently started up a discord server for the fic just for fun, so if anyone reading wants to come hang out with us and get updates on the writing and new chapters, here's a link!

Thank you to @ r0w3n-1n-d0ugh for beta-reading this chapter.

AO3

Read in order (on Tumblr)

Characters in this chapter: Wilbur, Ghostbur, Technoblade, Ranboo, Tubbo, Michael

Word count: 3651

Cw: medical treatment, pain, injuries, uncomfortableness, mentions of begging, mentions of burns, worry, cursing, implied anxiety, light discussions of food

Fic summary: Wilbur was alive, and it was such a magnificent feeling, that made his mind spark with anticipation. It didn’t take long, however, for Wilbur to realize that this new breath of life, was not just his own. An echo-y voice hides in the back of his mind, and before he knows it, the transparent version of him he saw at the endless train station, is a lot more ingrained than he’d expected him to be.

And Wilbur really shouldn’t care. Because he’d be damned, if he spent the life he’d awaited for so long, babysitting a lost cause of a ghost, stuck in the very same limbo Wilbur spent so long in. It was an even exchange, and one Wilbur wasn’t going to mess with. Why exactly he ends up setting out to get the ghost out of his mind, in order to save the both of them, however, is beyond him. And perhaps Wilbur’s past isn’t as easy to leave behind, as he’d hoped it would be.

If Wilbur had been asked to guess where he would be a few days after his revival, after thirteen and a half years in limbo at a train station,then sitting on the floor of a mansion, Technoblade looking right past him as he treated his burn wounds from the nether, would not have been his first thought. It was one of those experiences Wilbur had, where he felt as if maybe, he should’ve done more to avoid such a situation. Technoblade was holding Wilbur’s chin, barely having made eye contact with him at all. He was looking closely, as if Wilbur was not a person, but a broken table Techno had been considering putting out for a yard sale for years now.

Tubbo was still upstairs and had gone a little quieter since before Techno arrived. Ranboo was standing in the corner of the room as if he was trying his best not to be seen. A backpack stood beside Techno, and he rummaged through it, audible clicks of bottles coming from it. Techno poured some liquid on a piece of cloth and handed it to Wilbur silently. With a sharp exhale, Wilbur placed it against his burn. He heard Ghostbur hiss slightly but didn’t say anything himself.

“Why is everyone being so quiet?” Ghostbur asked, sudden desperation in his voice, “You- you didn’t leave, did you?”

Instead of responding, Wilbur placed his free hand against the floor and pressed down. Just as he’d suspected, he heard a relieved sigh from his mind.

“Did you say it was second-degree burns?” Techno asked, turning towards Ranboo.

“Ye- yeah!” Ranboo said, “From the nether.”

“Mhm.” Techno hummed, moving Wilbur’s hand away to get a good look at the burns. He rummaged through his bag once again and picked up a crimson red potion. He swirled it around, “I brought a potion.” he said, and while he didn’t look at Wilbur directly, it was the first time he had addressed him since he arrived, “But I’m not sure if you really need it.”

Wilbur scowled, though he wasn’t sure if Techno saw. It was an instant health potion, that Wilbur knew brought a great deal more pain than the ones of regeneration, that he knew for a fact Techno had at home too. He inhaled sharply, “Well,” every instinctual wording in his mind urged him to refuse, though the thoughts of Ghostbur’s screams once again plagued his mind. “I mean, it would be nice to have.”

Techno huffed, and added with precision: “I mean, after what you said this mornin’, I don’t think you really want it.”

Wilbur’s chest was burning with aggravation because he knew exactly what Techno was doing. Faint memories of the times, where playfulness would hide in Techno’s words, were present, though this was something different. This wasn’t just a game, but rather mocking. A spite that lingered in the air, leaving the tension unbroken. It would’ve been all the more reason to refuse Techno’s offer, if it wasn’t for the ghost, hearing every word.

“No! We do want it, right? It hurts still.” Ghostbur said the last part strained.

“...sorry,” Wilbur mumbled, barely audibly.

“What was that?” Techno asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I said fucking sorry,” Wilbur said darkly, and Ghostbur gasped.

“Could you repeat that?” Techno asked.

Wilbur breathed deeply with frustration, “I’m sorry, alright Technoblade? Is that what you want to hear?”

“Sure is a start,” Technoblade said, throwing the potion towards Wilbur, who barely managed to grab it in time. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of Ghostbur hearing the shrill sound of broken glass for the first time.

He uncapped the bottle, and took a sip from it, testing the level of pain he and Ghostbur would feel. It surprisingly wasn’t much, mainly a small pinch.

“If that’s how you’re gonna drink the potion then we’re gonna be here for a few years,” Techno began packing up the stuff into his backpack. 

Wilbur almost rolled his eyes but knew that maintaining a good relationship with Technoblade would be good in the long run. With that, he took a bigger sip, and once he swallowed he could feel the immediate burn of it going down his throat, where the pain transitioned into a pulsing feeling in his chin and hands. While Wilbur only winced, he could hear Ghostbur’s small pleas but tried to focus on anything that wasn’t him or the pain. He decided on the potion bottle itself. The glass bottle had some scratches on it that contrasted the red liquid inside that slightly sparkled. 

Once most of the pain was gone, Wilbur raised the bottle to his lips when Techno interrupted him, “Drinkin’ the whole thing at once will make it more effective.”

Wilbur knew Techno was right, but he didn’t want to admit it out loud. So instead he nodded in response, closed his eyes tight, and downed the whole thing. Wilbur regretted it immediately, closing his hand into a fist and punched the air, although it didn’t help much with his pain. 

What might’ve hurt more was Ghostbur’s cries from the almost burning sensation. “Wil- Wilbur, make it stop.” There was a sob at the end that painfully reminded Wilbur that Ghostbur had a lower pain tolerance than he did. “I- I know you can’t make it stop right now, but please do it soon.” Wilbur would have preferred Ghostbur to be angry at him for getting hurt in the first place over the apologies that he heard in his mind. They were quieter though, as it was a private conversation that Wilbur was never supposed to hear, but Ghostbur didn’t have anyone else to talk to so it must’ve been to him.

Most of the potion’s pain transitioned to his palms and his chin, the burning out of his throat now. A quiet, ‘fuck’ came out of Wilbur’s lips, tears threatening to spill out of his closed eyes. 

Techno stood up, grabbing his backpack and the bottle from Wilbur’s hand. He looked around the house, a confused look on his face, “Ranboo, isn’t this place a little big for a military base?”

Ranboo’s shoulders slightly went up, “Oh! It’s just uh- just in case we need to store more stuff.“

Techno walked towards the exit of the mansion, “That’s reasonable, but it’s three floors tall. I don’t think we really need that much space.”

Ranboo gave an apologetic glance towards Techno, avoiding looking in his eyes, “Well- I was thinking that we could mimic the look of a woodland mansion so that way people will be like ‘Oh that’s a woodland mansion, not a secret base!’ Y’know?”

Techno chuckled, “Alright, stay safe.” Although he looked at Ranboo when he said it, Wilbur could feel the words piercing through him. 

“We will!” Ghostbur cheered. Technoblade walked through the doors of the mansion and closed them behind him. 

Ranboo seemed to immediately relax, his posture becoming slightly looser than it was during his interaction with Techno. However, when Ranboo looked back at Wilbur some of his uncomfortableness returned. “So uh…” Anything Ranboo might have said died before it could reach Wilbur’s ears. 

A moment of silence stretched between the two before small thuds that sounded like quick steps littered the lack of sound between them. “What’s that?” Wilbur asked as he heard Ghostbur say it in unison.

Ghostbur gasped, “Jinx!”

Ranboo didn’t directly answer Wilbur’s question but muttered, “I should go check on Tubbo.” Wilbur nodded understandably, watching Ranboo go up the stairs two at a time. Seeing Ranboo walk so quickly reminded him that he had been sitting down for most of the exchange, and slowly stood up. However, black spots rippled his vision with his legs slightly shaking under him. He relied on the wall for support as it took seconds before everything felt normal to him again. He waited for anything from Ghostbur, but all he heard was the ghost humming a song to himself, which he took as a good thing. 

However, once he focused on the sound that he previously heard, he heard muffled snorts that he’d heard from Technoblade many times. 

“Is Techie still here? I thought he left.”

“I thought so too,” Wilbur whispered slowly. He walked up the stairs as quietly as he could, cringing when he heard one creak under him. As soon as he finished going up, he saw doors to his right labeled ‘Construction in Progress’ yet the noise seemed to be coming from behind there. He tiptoed next to the door, hearing muffled voices from the other side.

“We have to stop him before he runs off again.” The voice had a familiarity to it, Wilbur assumed it was Tubbo. However, the tone was clear with worry.

“I mean how would we even do it?” The voice was deeper than the previous one, yet it was laced with concern that mimicked the other. It was shakier than the other voice, but not by much. Only enough that Wilbur only noticed when he paid attention to it.

“I have this, but I’ve never tried it out before. I’ve just heard that it works.” 

Ranboo sighed, “Part of me feels like this is the wrong thing to do.” A strange melancholy was hidden behind it.

“It’s for his own good.” There was some kind of fabric rustle heard, two things softly colliding into each other.

“I know…” Wilbur could barely hear it, but he knew he needed to leave sooner rather than later.

“What were they talking about?” Wilbur resisted sighing at Ghostbur’s lack of understanding and settled on an eye roll. 

It had only been a matter of time, before someone would try such a thing, of course. Wilbur had had a big enough impact on history to be worth fighting, it seemed. And while he hadn’t expected it from someone like Tubbo, a lot could happen in thirteen and a half years. It was not the first time someone intended to target Wilbur with the strike of death, and being back for this long was perhaps an achievement on its own. Not that he was going to let them kill him, because he wasn’t easy to get rid of at all. Sneaking around by the door, he attempted to gain any information he could about it. Perhaps avoiding the strike, from one of his previous most trusted companions, was going to be exactly what he needed to regain his force and power. In fact, he was almost a little impressed and proud, that they had enough spine to attempt something so conclusive. That was the kind of certain drive and spirit, Tubbo had lacked back in L’Manberg.

But they weren’t in L’Manberg anymore. Tubbo kept his own secrets, or murder plans, behind closed doors. Wilbur couldn’t let Ranboo nor Tubbo know that he was listening. They were working together after all. He held his breath as he slowly walked down the stairs. Which step was the one that creaked? Wilbur cursed himself for not remembering, and gently pressed onto the step in front of him. He applied slightly more pressure, and finally, put his whole foot on it. He let out a breath when it didn’t creak, but felt it in his gut that the next one would make a sound. As Wilbur skipped the step directly in front of him, the step after that must have been the one that caused a creak as when he pressed most of his weight on it, it made a sound that wouldn’t have usually been loud. Yet, with most of the house remaining quiet it was the only thing to hear other than the whispers upstairs. Even then, those stopped when the sound played aloud. 

Wilbur flinched, as the door opened, Tubbo looking outside. He locked eyes with Wilbur, who wasn’t entirely sure what to do now. Perhaps his best call would’ve been to run, though running was such a dull way to solve anything. Then, despite the thousand reactions Wilbur would’ve expected, Tubbo gave a relieved sigh. “Oh! Hi again, Wilbur. I was a little jumpy there for a moment.”

Wilbur looked at Tubbo with disbelief. “Uh, well-” he said, still standing on the steps when he heard the same snorts from before, and soon, right behind Tubbo’s legs, Wilbur spotted a zombie piglin. And Wilbur truly didn’t have the slightest clue of what to say to that. Ranboo was standing awkwardly behind Tubbo, picking up the little zombie piglin, with a particular gentleness, Wilbur hadn’t quite expected either. “What?” he eventually ended up saying.

Tubbo chuckled nervously, playing with his hair. “I uh, I suppose I haven’t introduced you yet. Sorry for the secrecy we… We didn’t want Techno to… It’s a long story, but,” Tubbo gestured to Ranboo, who was holding the little one, “This is Michael!” Tubbo said, “Our… Our son!”

At the words, little Michael squealed with joy, as he jumped out of Ranboo’s hands rushing to the confused Wilbur, who managed to walk up the rest of the stairs right before the zombie piglin wrapped his arms around Wilbur’s leg. Wilbur stared at the child blankly for a few moments, blinking once or twice. Then, he started laughing, covering his face with his hands. He kept laughing, and as he looked up, he noticed Tubbo and Ranboo, looking at him confusedly.

“What was funny?” Ghostbur asked, interest in his voice, “Did someone tell a funny joke? Oh no, did I miss it? Also, was that Michael? I nearly forgot about the little guy!”

Those words just made Wilbur laugh harder, despite the staring. When he finally stopped, however, the zombie piglin child was looking at Wilbur expectedly. “Hello, Mi- haha- Michael,” Wilbur said, bending down slightly to pat the child on the head. 

“It looks like he likes you,” Ranboo said with a hesitant smile, his voice a little more confident than the other times Wilbur had heard him. 

Wilbur kneeled down while Michael was attached to his leg, but when the child saw the opportunity he ran into Wilbur’s open arms. Wilbur smiled as he reciprocated the hug and picked Michael up. The toddler wrapped his legs around Wilbur’s abdomen as much as he could while Wilbur held his back and bottom, resting his chin over Michael’s shoulder. The boy squeezed the back of Wilbur’s coat, but he couldn’t grab much due to his small hands. Wilbur realized in that moment that he would die for Michael if he had to.

“Aw, almost makes me wish I had a little brother growing up,” Wilbur softly said, hugging Michael to his chest.

Tubbo held a fondness in his eyes that Wilbur didn’t know if he’s seen before, “He’s our little angel.”

Ranboo quietly laughed to himself, “When he’s not trying to run away while we have guests that is.”

Tubbo chuckled, “I would drink to that if I legally could.” A look of realization came across Tubbo’s face, “Hey, little M, are you hungry?” He walked around so he was behind Wilbur and able to see Michael’s face. Part of him impulsively thought that Tubbo was going to stab him in the back, literally. Yet, he continued holding the boy, if he was going to kill him, he was going to go down holding Michael. 

When he felt Michael nod, Tubbo clapped his hands together. “Alright, how’s dinner gonna work tonight?”

“Well, you’re going to eat it, I swear- people can be so silly sometimes,” Ghostbur huffed in annoyance. Wilbur silently laughed knowing Ghostbur probably wasn’t making a joke.

Ranboo diverted his attention from Michael and brought it to Tubbo, “I’m guessing it’s going to be the usual routine of one of us cooking and the other taking care of Michael. We can bring out the steaks tonight since we’ve got a guest.”

Wilbur turned around so he could see Tubbo’s reaction, “Sounds good to me, I’ll get some carrots. Maybe cut a bit of steak for Michael...” Tubbo started to head down the stairs, “I better get started, you three have fun!”

Ghostbur gasped, “He’s finally including me!” 

Wilbur delicately broke the news of who the third person was, “So, Ranboo, is there anywhere Michael usually plays? Or runs around? I’m honestly not sure what kids do nowadays.”

Ranboo laughed, “We’ve got most of his stuff in the room we were just in, but he’s got a different room planned in the long-run.” Ranboo opened the door behind him, holding it open for Wilbur.

Wilbur smiled softly, “Thanks.” 

Wilbur looked inside the room and found a strange nostalgia in it despite it not being from his past at all. The walls were decorated in a mix of crimson and warped wood, some vines dangling from the ceiling, but few were low enough to grab. There was a small yellow bed in the corner of the room with blankets untucked and one of the pillows on the ground. There was a blue kids table in the center of the room, with some books and paper on it. Next to that, there were some wooden cabinets made out of birch. From one of the open drawers he saw a few toys that weren’t organized in any specific way.

Ranboo looked at Wilbur, a little calmer than before, yet he still seemed small. Wilbur had yet to talk to Ranboo alone, and he wondered exactly what kind of person had managed to get that close to Tubbo in all this time. That was not the first question on Wilbur’s mind however. “Before I came in,” he tried, “What were you discussing?”

Ranboo’s cheeks seemed to turn a faint red. “Oh.” he said, “Well, Michael kept running off, so we were uh, thinking about how to keep him near us. Just for his first couple of walks outside, you know?”

Wilbur had the urge to break out in laughter once again, though he managed to stick to a sudden huff and a smile. “Aha,” he said. So, the inevitable betrayal wasn’t coming from Tubbo and Ranboo. 

And Tubbo had a son. That was new. For a brief moment, the thoughts of his own son flashed across Wilbur’s mind. Though the more he let the thought linger, the more the bells of war seemed to ring through his mind, and he cut it off the second he could. Not now. 

Instead, he smiled contemplatively, “Is Techno your enemy?”

Ranboo looked surprised to have been asked such a question. “Huh?”

“Well, you seemed to hide something from him,” Wilbur said, raising his eyebrow, intrigued. His mind was buzzing with excitement, at learning more about the current political situation,  “You said this was a military base. Tubbo was clearly hiding boxes away.”

“Oh! Oh no no no.” Ranboo said quickly, moving his hands back and forth, to deny the claims, “I live with Techno actually, I… I trust him!”

Wilbur chuckled. “But not with the knowledge of your home?” he paused, another thought hitting him as he looked at Michael, “Or with your child?”

“No it’s-”

“Oooh!” Wilbur said, suddenly, perking up, “Unless it’s me, you’re hiding something from? Is it me?” he said, beginning to get a little excited.

Ranboo looked as if he’d been accused of something terrible. “No! It’s uh…” he took a deep breath as if he was calming himself, “It’s nothing like that, it’s just… We’ll tell him eventually, I mean, we have to, but…” he closed his eyes momentarily, and opened them again, “Snowchester is a bit of a government, you know? And Techno doesn’t quite… Like those?”

Oh. Now, that made sense perhaps. “So, he is your enemy?” Wilbur asked for clarification.

“No, we just… I don’t really have any enemies, per se…” Ranboo said quietly, “We just have to find the right way to tell him, is all. At uh…” He cringed, “At some point...”

“You don’t have-” Wilbur was baffled, and he started laughing again, “You don’t have enemies, you say?”

“No no, it’s more than that. Like-” Ranboo frustratedly sighed, “I don’t think enemies should be chosen because they’re on a different side. They should be chosen because they specifically hurt you or someone you care about. Like- Dream is an enemy.” Ranboo shrugged off the last sentence as if it was a universal concept that didn’t need an explanation.

Yet, that wouldn’t align with the facts. For one, that was a rather useless way to look at things. In a perfect world, choosing people would be possible, but this was anything but a perfect world. In truth, Wilbur wondered if Ranboo had the slightest idea what he’d believe in on his own, without the mutual enemy he could pretend was the only issue. And sure, Dream was against L’Manberg, but Wilbur had to admit that the man had proper reasons. He was wrong, but his reasons weren’t. Dream even brought Wilbur back to life despite all the trouble between them. “How can you just say that?” His tone quickly turned defensive as he didn’t realize that he was defending a man who wasn’t even in the room, “Dream revived me, is that something an enemy would do?”

A look of quiet shock came across Ranboo’s face that made him purse his lips and look towards Michael instead of Wilbur. However, this silence was returned back to him as Wilbur looked at him expectantly for an answer. After moments of thinking passed, Ranboo opened his mouth at the same time there were three knocks on the door. The door opened and Tubbo poked his head into the room and opened it, “Dinner’s ready!”

Michael snorted and wiggled out of Wilbur’s grasp. The toddler ran to Tubbo and tried to get past him and downstairs, making soft shoves that were ineffective, but the most he could do. The adorable scene almost distracted Wilbur from the fact that Ranboo didn’t answer him. 

Almost.

[found-family-my-beloved]

When it's time to sink or swim I always choose to do the backfloat

Fandom: Dream SMP

Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Tommyinnit, Ranboo & Tubbo, Tommyinnit & Ranboo & Tubbo, Wilbur Soot & Philza, Wilbur Soot & Fundy, Wilbur Soot & Yoghurt, Fundy & Yoghurt, Wilbur Soot & Eret, Eret & Fundy (mentioned) (tags to be added in later chapters)

Characters: Wilbur Soot, Tommyinnit, Philza, Fundy, Yoghurt, Eret, Ranboo (mentioned), Tubbo (mentioned), Ghostbur (mentioned), Shroud the Spider (mentioned), Michael_Beloved (mentioned), Technoblade (mentioned), TipTup and Tiddy Pang (mentioned), other children on the server (mentioned) (tags to be added in later chapters)

Word count: 2799

Chapter: 4/6 - Eret (First chapter/Previous chapter/Next chapter)

AO3

Summary:

“Tubbo and Ranboo have been bugging me to bring him over for a play date with Michael since he's ‘pretty much my kid’ apparently. First off he's not my kid, he's a fuckin’ spider, and even if he was, my Shroud would be far too good to have to make the trek all the way over to that snowy shithole for a playdate.”

Wilbur stopped pacing and stared at Tommy, who had gone back to rifling through chests again. Oh shit.

“Michael?” he asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Or "the 4 things Wilbur finds out about the _Beloved family through others + the 2 things he finds out about them directly"

Author's notes:

Hello! You can probably tell this is one of the slightly longer chapters. I've added a 'slight intrusive thought' tag to the AO3 version because while they've been shown a few times already, a couple of them cover ideas of people preferring Ghostbur/wanting him to be alive instead. The chapter doesn't get too heavy at any point, but if these are areas you're particularly uncomfortable with, feel free to skip to the next chapter or request a version of the chapter without the intrusive thoughts. Also, the chapter briefly touches on areas of the lore I've had to Google since I never saw them first-hand (e.g. Ghostbur's library and the failed resurrection attempt). I did my best but if there's anything I've missed/not quite got right, feel free to let me know. Now, without further ado, enjoy the chapter!

In some ways, interacting with Eret felt the safest to Wilbur. Sure he didn't really trust her still and it was very likely Eret felt as unsafe uncomfortable with him as anyone else on the server. But at the same time this awkward dynamic was a familiar one, containing leftovers from the final control room, the election, the pogtopia uprising. Wilbur had heard from Fundy that he and many of the original l'manburgians had forgiven Eret, but he had also spoken with Tommy and neither of them were quite there yet.

Still, Eret was important to Fundy and while he may not be sure just yet what he would need to apologise to them for, Wilbur was still working on making amends with everyone and apparently the first step to that was just to spend time with them. If nothing else, he needed to make it clear to people that he was trying his best so he wouldn't be left alone again in an attempt to relieve some of the negativity the server still held. So currently he was walking up to the museum where the monarch stood waiting by the entrance.

"Greetings Wilbur," Eret raised a hand to wave. "I'll admit, I was slightly surprised by the offer to help but I greatly appreciate the company. Working in the museum can get quite lonely at times, but I understand why no one else is particularly keen on taking on the job. History is... an easy thing to get bogged down in sometimes."

"Yeah, I can imagine. You really haven't had any help with your collection though? This must have taken yea- months to collect." Wilbur was still struggling with the time difference but if Eret noticed anything about it, he wasn't about to point out the error.

"I've had the occasional help, but it's been mostly me I'm afraid. Karl was running a library a while back, so I was hopeful he could help, but he didn't really want to talk about the contents of any of the books, so I'm assuming they were all fictional. Ghostbur also had a fairly large collection of historical records and had been willing to help when I asked, but last I heard the records were all destroyed along with New L'Manburg and... well, you know..." Eret trailed off.

Wilbur sighed. It was clear from their expression Eret wanted to ask how much of Ghostbur still resided without seeming rude. Unfortunately if they were going to talk about past events in detail, Wilbur didn't have the liberty of lying in his answer, whether he'd wanted to or not. Fingers crossed Tommy was serious when he said he wasn't about to reconcile with Eret any time soon because this could go downhill quickly otherwise.

"Sorry to hear that. As much as I'd like to help you there, the ghost and I don't share a huge amount of memories. And if the records were part of a bad memory then from what I understand about him, I'm not about to have any recollection of them in the near future."

"I suspected as much. Considering how much Ghostbur distanced himself from his pre-death self, it makes sense that you would feel that same disconnect. It was just wishful thinking to hope you would remember some of the conversations I had with him, I suppose..." Eret said wistfully.

"Yeah, sorry," Wilbur responded, feeling awkward. He was well aware that people preferred Ghostbur wished he'd never been revived assumed they must share the same memories as the same core person and he'd used that to his advantage at times. Didn't make the inevitable disappointment any easier to deal with though. "Were the- um, the conversations important? I wasn't aware you'd spent time with him."

"Don't worry about it. It's just that last time we spoke he said... he said he forgave me. Even said he'd write another version of the L'Manburg anthem that didn't include me negatively." Eret laughed slightly at the memory before bringing herself back to the present. "That doesn't matter now though. You two are completely different people and I'm happy to keep working to regain your trust as I once did his. I'm not putting any pressure on you to pretend to be or feel differently in an attempt to be someone you no longer are."

"Um, thanks Eret..." Wilbur mumbled. All things considered the interaction went a lot better than it could have done, especially as he couldn't hear any hint of insincerity in Eret's voice. After smiling in return, they led Wilbur inside the museum, down the stairs to a lower level with several maps and a chest of carefully preserved items. Only a couple stood out to Wilbur immediately but it seemed likely that they all held some sort of sentimental value.

This was very quickly confirmed when Eret walked up to the chest Wilbur was already looking at, reaching into one next to it and taking out several stacks of glass, book podiums and armour stands.

"You can probably guess what we're doing, but I was thinking we could set up exhibitions along the back wall for the items in the chest you're looking at. Don't worry if you don't recognise them, I can add the important info afterwards, today's just about building a space for them," he explained.

Seemed straightforward enough. Grabbing some more stacks of supplies from the chest Eret had taken from, Wilbur carried them towards the assigned wall and, with a brief warning that if he struggled with memories of anything they could take breaks and try again another day, they got to work.

Once they got into it, the work was easy enough and they were able to maintain an easy silence throughout. Despite his misgivings about the monarch, this was the easiest Wilbur found to be himself in a while. Even while 'helping' Phil, his role became that of a performer, so it took a certain level of awareness that Wilbur wasn't the centre of attention to let any social guards down. Not to say that he was completely letting himself go, since there were walls he wasn't even willing to bring down on his own just yet. But despite it being labour, it felt like a nice break from everything.

Of course all good things come to an end and Eret inevitably tried to make conversation.

"So Wilbur, how are you spending your time nowadays? I assume you found living arrangements alright when you came back?"

While living in limbo had given Wilbur an appreciation of many simple aspects of life, small talk was definitely not one of those aspects. Still, when society tells you to do something like maintain said small talk, you comply.

"Yeah, nothing much. 'Been trying to talk to everyone, apologise and make amends. Something we're both familiar with, right?" Wilbur tried to joke but from the awkward silence that followed, it seemed he'd failed. Nevermind, worst comes to worst he could always (rightfully) blame it on the years lost to limbo with no socialising practice.

Wilbur coughed, "I've been living with Phil though, so thankfully no need to build a house or anything."

Eret nodded in response. "That's good to hear. I'm not sure I've seen Phil since the failed resurrection attempt but hopefully he's doing well."

Naturally, this quickly replaced the awkwardness Wilbur had previously been feeling with complete bafflement, as it would with anyone who heard the words 'failed resurrection attempt' come up in conversation. "...What?"

"I thought- nevermind. I thought you'd have at least felt the resurrection happening, but clearly we were nowhere near doing it correctly. It doesn't matter now though - it was quite a while ago."

"So... you were trying to revive me? How? What about Ghostbur?" Wilbur had seen the books scattered around Phil's house when he'd first moved in so it was obvious he'd been looking at revivals and life after death, but other than him and Dream it was easy to just assume everyone had (hopefully mourned and) moved on. But now he was hearing that other people had not only entertained the idea of reviving him, but had actually attempted to go through with it. That seemed... incomprehensible. Amazing, but incomprehensible.

"We gave it a go. It was Ghostbur that asked us to actually. I think he was sick of not remembering everything, but you'll have to talk to Phil to know more about that. We tried to recreate your... conversation with Phil in the control room. And everything that transpired directly following that. Unfortunately it only seemed to bring back Schlatt for a few minutes and then Ghostbur was exactly the same as he was before. Fundy and Ranboo helped as well, plus Tubbo was listening through Ranboo's communicator." Eret explained.

Huh. It seemed more people were involved than he could've imagined. Fundy and Phil made sense, since they were family, and Eret was still fulfilling his emotional debts, but Tubbo and Ranboo as well?

"Now that I think about it, there was an hour where Schlatt and I were slightly foggy," Wilbur said thoughtfully. "It felt weird but there wasn't anything beyond that to give context, so it was easier to move on. Nice to know you gave it a go though."

Since they were talking about a specific group of people though, it seemed like the perfect segue into something Wilbur had been wondering about for a while.

"By the way, have you spoken to Fundy recently? He's mentioned you a lot, but nothing he's said has sounded too recent."

Eret's expression wasn't visible, but seeing her tense up at the question made it seem like there was clearly something both of them had avoided mentioning.

"No, I haven't seen him for a long time. I've failed him twice now, so staying away seems as close to redemption as one can get in this scenario. Especially as..." Eret trailed off, clearly trying to avoid something they didn't think Wilbur wanted to hear.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, but if you want to get whatever's on your mind out, you're welcome to."

Eret sighed, but continued reluctantly. "I may have... planned to adopt Fundy. We had it all planned out, but the day we were meant to be at the courthouse to complete the paperwork, I couldn't make it. Between that and the... situation now, it just doesn't seem appropriate for me to try approaching him again. All I can hope is he knows he can come to me if the need ever arises."

As surprising as the scenario was, it certainly explained a lot. Unfortunately it did leave Wilbur with a dilemma. He could give some empty responses and let the situation stay exactly as it is now, or he could encourage Eret to reach out and reconcile, risking Fundy abandoning him -all over again- -just like everyone else- in favour of a better parent figure. Considering this was Eret he was thinking about and the fears he already had, it would have seemed like an easy choice when he'd first been revived.

"Talk to Fundy," he said finally. "Avoiding him and hoping he approaches you first will only ensure you never rebuild whatever relationship you had before."

Eret looked at him, surprised at the response. Considering how hesitant he looked, Wilbur could easily have left the conversation there but continued regardless.

"You know as well as I do that most of the relationships I had before were... not in a good place. Trying to talk to the same people I once considered family hasn't been easy, but it seems to be working somehow? Not easily and certainly not quickly. But it's getting there, you know?"

"And I happy for you for that." Eret responded with a sad smile. "But, no offence, you've been away for so long and there was nothing you could do during that time to repair any of those bonds. Fundy and I... I've still been here, so there's no excuse not to have stepped up or made more of an effort."

This was going to be harder than Wilbur had thought. But maybe there was one more thing he could mention to convince her?

"Did you know he has a child now?"

That definitely got Eret's attention from whatever road their mind was currently going down.

"His name is Yoghurt. He's a mini menace, just like any toddler would be," Wilbur chuckled. "But considering he's being raised by Fundy, I'd expect nothing less. And even though I've clearly already taken the spot of the cool grandparent, I'm sure there's always room for another."

"I had no idea," Eret spoke quietly, more wistful now than hesitant. After a moment, they seemed to make up their mind. "They're living in Las Nevadas now, aren't they? Maybe... I should pay them a visit. Whenever I happen to be in the area next I mean."

Wilbur smiled, "Of course. I'm sure they'd both appreciate it. And as much as it may pain me to admit it, you seem to be doing a vaguely decent job as monarch right now and Yoghurt could do with a good influence."

"Thank you Wilbur. Really. I can't imagine any of this being easy for you, especially helping me of all people."

Alright, now that that was out of the way, the conversation had got far too serious and genuine, so clearly something needed to be done to lighten the subject.

"Hey, if you really want to make it up to me, just pretend I'm not here if you ever need people to pay taxes," Wilbur joked.

Eret laughed. "Don't worry, I've only attempted taxes once and that was aimed at Dream. I think I might have panicked Tubbo when I tried it though."

"Really, why?" Imagining the chaos that could have followed trying to tax one of the most powerful people on the server, Wilbur would have assumed Tubbo would be all for it.

"I made the announcement but must have forgotten that word gets around the server pretty quickly, because he ran up to me a couple of days after, saying something about why getting married would mean he would have to be taxed less."

Considering what Phil had already told him, Wilbur had a feeling he could see where this story was going. "How did you respond to that?" he asked, trying not to laugh.

"I told him I had neither the desire nor the ability to tax him since he was in his own area of the Greater SMP and that the same was true of Ranboo when Tubbo asked about him. I don't think he was very impressed by that for some reason," Eret frowned. "Not sure if anything happened after that, I'm assuming Tubbo just told Ranboo what I said and they both forgot about the situation."

"I can't say for sure, but I think they figured things out." Wilbur couldn't really say they were married now considering Phil's warning about letting the news get back to Techno, but it seemed like enough of an answer. Eret appeared to be satisfied with the comment.

"I hope so. I haven't seen either of them in a while but they both have good heads on their shoulders, so whatever they're doing, I'm sure it's doing well."

Somehow while they'd been talking, they seemed to have put up the final podiums and signs, leaving in a room full of spaces for the various monuments Eret wanted to put up. When she looked over at the box though, she just sighed and stretched.

"It's getting late. Putting the items in place can be a job for tomorrow, I think. Thank you for the help though! This would have taken at least a couple of days and felt like a week without you here to help and talk to."

From the expression on their face, it was clear Eret wasn't just thanking him for the manual labour.

Wilbur nodded in response. "Anytime. This wasn't as bad as I thought it might be, so if ever you need help again. I'm no Ghostbur but hopefully I'm good enough regardless."

"You're more than enough." Eret replied simply.

They both walked up the stairs and outside the museum, Eret walking in the direction of his castle but the look of determination indicating he might be walking a bit further than that.

This morning, Wilbur would have said Eret was safe to interact with because they both had things to prove and nothing had really changed. But now... maybe they were safe to interact with because they were both trying to prove themselves and in reality a lot had changed. It was a weird thought, but a welcome one, as Wilbur started to walk back home.