LORE LORE LORE LORE

One and a halfish months in the making. Finally named the chapters too. What else could you ask for other than Jimmy getting adult-knapped?
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To be fair, when False kicked them out of her house, Ranboo did not expect to end up in a top hero's place of residence. Especially after his, Tubbo and Tommy's illegal guardians revealed themselves to be some of the most 'wanted' supervillains with the most infamous of connections. He did not expect to be left at the doorstep of The Crowfather's house! Neither did Tommy, who had all but fainted when he realized what was going on. Like, wouldn't it be easier to just drop them off at some villain's rather than risking a hero's? He gets that they're friends but- seriously?

So, they have one man passed out on the couch and two ready for action. The hero, or rather, Phil -they should call him Phil from now on actually- has been trying to contact Grian for the half hour the three of them have been there. This must be the fiftieth time Phil has tried to phone Grian to no avail.

"Grian, this is the fiftieth message I've left you!" -Phil shouts into the speaker after the characteristic beeeep of a voice mail- "You have an hour to come pick up your kids or else I'll make them into stew!"

Well, that certainly isn't very heroic, is it? Threatening to turn kids into stew? What are they, 'Hansel and Gretel: The Retell'? Not to mention that this sort of threat would result in a precarious and dangerous situation, resulting in death served by The Wather's hands. If he has understood correctly -and trust him, he has-, then Grian and Phil are very good friends, while The Watcher and The Crowfather are sworn enemies. Grian just has the advantage of knowing things without needing to do much, which has obviously led them to this predicament.

"Crowfather, sir, that ain't gonna work", Tubbo comments but his input goes unheard as the hero dials their bird father's number again -not that it'll have a different outcome but who is Ranboo to ruin a man's hopes? Grian is probably busy doing Watcher-related things.

Like, y'know, restoring a certain building to its former glory like he'd done to the buildings that Slimecicle guy had destroyed.

Not that Phil would know that but you'd think after the fifty-first time of being ignored, he'd let up. Apparently, all avians are stubborn because Phil continues to the fifty-second voice mail instead of facing the new challenge that is sitting in his living room at the moment.

Oh, wait! Now they have access to The Crowfather's house, don't they? Perhaps there is an attic the three of them could squeeze into, or even better, there could be a guest room they could take over! They could actually sleep in a normal bed if there is a guest bedroom around here until Grian comes to retrieve them!

And they could also pillage the hero's house while they're at it; yeah, that's a great idea. It will definitely not end in their demise. Ha... ha?

Regardless of all the red alarms that are clearly blaring in the background, Ranboo takes it upon himself to explore and maybe pick up some valuables on the way. Throwing a look at Tubbo, then at the dark hallway's maw, then back at the bee, who gives him a silent thumbs up, Ranboo slips away when Phil has his back turned.

It was surprisingly easy to escape the hero. Weird.

He prays that Thee Crowfather won't torture Tubbo for his whereabouts when he realizes that he's missing but then again, it's more likely that Tubbo will torture Phil for nothing in particular. Just for the fun of it. The only person who would be mad about that would be Tommy and Tommy is still out-of-action on the couch. So, Ranboo remains free of guilt. It's not like the hero can't replace any item that he'll come across.

The hallway isn't as dark as he thought. Only the living room end is basically a black void but the rest is lit up by natural light that crawls out of the doors running the length of it. Why are there so many rooms anyway? Ranboo can count four, the closest being a luxurious bathroom that has a jacuzzi in the very back. Lucky, rich people, man.

Wait, backtrack a bit. Does Phil have a family outside of his incredibly demanding job? How does one even manage a family life while doing the hero thing? Actually, Ranboo should stop thinking about The Crowfather's life based on how big the house is -it could just be extra storage or extra bathrooms for all he knows! What's that saying again?

Innocent till proven guilty! There. That phrase. Guilty of having a family, sure.

Shameless of snooping, Taboo enters the first room. It is way more decorated and crammed than he expected.

It isn't massive but it is certainly big -unless it is massive but the huge amount of notebooks, papers with weird symbols and musical instruments are simply hiding most of it. Which they are but life isn't a video game for a room to be bigger than it looks! This is a real feat of a human being who has never organized anything in their life and Ranboo will commend them for that. Kudos to them.

He doesn't step closer to the mess on the floor, content on observing and analyzing the blue walls from afar like Slenderman spying on some kids at the playground.... That's an eerie analogy. Maybe this mess is just a thief deterrent. Just thinking of a way in is giving him a headache and Ranboo is skilled in that department of the job! Although, there is a footprint on one of the open, scattered notebooks, so whoever is living here obviously doesn't care about the state of their belongings. Surely, Phil can't be that messy.

Whoever owns this many guitars must be a musician. Okay, there are only three but that is still a number that is higher than one. Who needs three guitars? Are they different somehow? Ranboo can't tell. He'll either have to ask the room's inhabitant or simply forget that he was ever there.

...That last one sounds easier. Yeah, he'll do that.

Moving to the second room, he finds that the walls are red. A deep, maroon hue that is close to bloody. There is a foreboding feeling that washes over him the moment he steps inside -thankfully, this room has no mess in the middle of it so he can explore freely.

Screaming erupts from down the hall, from the direction of the living room. Ranboo waves it, deeming it to be Tommy finally having woken up and seeing his favorite hero stand before him in true flesh and blood.

Ranboo can't blame him. If he passed out in front of The Blade and then woke up in his house, specifically on his couch, Ranboo would've also screamed. Now, whether he'd scream out of excitement of having the privilege of seeing the man out of costume or out of terror for the insinuation of a kidnapping, is a whole other question. One that he won't delve into right now.

His eyes fall on the double bed sitting perfectly in the middle of the room, headboard pushed up against the wall. The covers are red with accents sewn of golden, glittery thread, looking so soft that- Ranboo sits on it before he can complete the thought, eyes widening at the feel of the texture.

He can feel the mattress sink with him, though it feels sturdy. He bunches the sheets in his hands, reveling in the plush comfort of the material, uncaring if it'll look untidy. Inwardly, he wonders who lives in such a lavish room with such a regal bed.

He stands up and moves to the nightstand. Actually, on second thought, no. He doesn't want to find out what is hidden in the drawers. Other than the landline telephone -there are still landlines?- on top of it, he doesn't need to know anything else.

The wardrobe is filled with button-ups and old-fashioned jeans. Ruffles on almost every sleeve there attract his attention as he gingerly feels each and every one, comparing the quality in his head despite all of them being of very high quality. These clothes must be expensive. He can't name what the material is but it feels nice and soft and he wonders if he could stuff one inside his shirt without making it look like a bump.

Before he can plan his little stealing act, there is velvet in his hand. Vibrant red and incredibly soft to the touch -surely, it must be illegal for something to be this soft! He traces the piece of fabric up and up and up to a neck lined with white fur.

Wait.

It's a cape. A very, very familiar cape. One that bellows off the broad shoulders of the best hero in existence.

Wait.

Surely, this person is simply a big fan, right? Ranboo will gladly give up his self-proclaimed title of No.1 Blade Fan if this means that what he thinks is happening, isn't happening. More screaming comes from the living room, this time sounding more like an argument.

A journey to the desk opposite of the door reveals that maybe, this isn't a fan. Well, this is the house of The Crowfather of the SBI; maybe his friends just crash here from time to time or they just live together, right?

How else could the boar-skull mask he found on the desk be explained otherwise? Yeah, that's probably it. Or Phil does have children and he can afford this expensive merch!

That... that does make some sense.

His ear twitches at the sound of heavy, adult footsteps coming from down the hall but he pays it no mind. What are the chances that Phil will stop at this room? Especially with both of the chaos machines working at full capacity inside the house!

Not even Grian lets them out of his sight for longer than thirty seconds and Impulse prefers to set up hazard-safe zones whenever they're around. Even when they had crashed at his place that one night, the man still thought it was safer to put up an electric fence at their door sometime during the night. Sure, they had planned on raiding the fridge at midnight but come on! Fridge raiding isn't that hazardous!

(Grian and Pearl would disagree, having had found their kitchens smeared in chocolate fingerprints and blown up respectively)

However, Phil isn't Grian. He doesn't know how far Tommy and Tubbo can and will go to achieve some surreal plan (experiment) of theirs. Mumbo could attest if he were here. Ranboo can't find it in himself to feel sorry for the hero. Phil has enough money to replace anything they break.

Except, the footsteps didn't stop before nor after the room he's in and he notices too late that the desk is across from the door. And that the door is open. And that he is standing at the desk.

"Stealin' my stuff again?", comes the rough, monotone drawl from the doorway.

Ranboo almost drops the mask from his hands but saves it at the last second before it can crack against the desk. However, his heart drops without a care in the world, dragging his upper body with it to put him in a horizontal Γ-shape. Before he can think to collect himself, though, he does the stupid move in every cliche horror movies and looks back at the murder- at the person at the door, he means!

Though, The Blade may as well become a murderer after this. Because, y'know, the man is standing right there, in all his regal glory, his bejeweled crown resting on his head, and this is so obviously his room!

Ranboo wants to dig a hole and die of embarrassment. This is so much worse than the super-fan theory -oh god.

"Um"

The hero looks unimpressed. Like, completely unfazed despite the fact that Ranboo is in his room -like he expected to find him here. Wait. Is this why he heard screaming? Oh no, Tommy and Tubbo are dead. He must be the only one alive out of their team, surely!

Grian is going to be so mad.

...On second thought, Grian's emotions don't matter much now that he's about to be yeeted to his next life, do they? No. No, they don't.

"Is it a bad habit or something? Or are you just a kleptomaniac?"

Ranboo doesn't know how to respond to that.

Hell, he doesn't think he even heard half of the man's words over the mixed feeling of dread and excitement hammering and warring in his chest. Actually, that might be his heart returning to its rightful place. That's more reasonable.

"Please, don't murder me!", despite the seriousness in his voice, the hero appears to find his inner terror funny.

"I'll think about it", the joke is obvious but the awkwardness in Ranboo's half-laugh, half-what-the-fuck-is-happening noise is still present. "Come on, enough explorin'. I like my stuff untouched"

He lets himself be herded to the living room like a lamb to the slaughter. No hesitation, other than his muscles feeling too tight on his bones as the hero leads him by the shoulder -God, it is such an honor, though no one will believe him if he said that The Blade touched him.

*

Honestly, returning to a chaos-filled room isn't as scary as you may think. That being only if you're with the peeps who are causing said chaos. If you are the one dealing with it? Yeah, things get rough.

This is why Phil, Ghostbur and The Blade are having a bad time currently.

Specifically Ghostbur, who got in a hot debate with Tommy during Ranboo's absence and they've been bickering ever since, apparently. Tubbo somehow managed to get stuck on the ceiling light and if Ranboo had a penny for every time Tubbo got stuck on the ceiling, he'd have two pennies, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice. Ranboo just hopes that he won't get hurt like last time. Like Phil is saying–

"Tubbo, get down from there! Grian will have my head if you get hurt!"

–he is their temporary guardian, meaning that if Tubbo does get hurt, Phil is very likely to wrestle the boy to check for wounds. Having Tubbo's other half be revealed to strangers would be a bad idea, like Doc told them. However, Tubbo –just like Tommy– is a daredevil and does the exact opposite of what Phil just told him to do. Ha.

Ranboo still can't bring himself to feel any remorse.

"Why did you agree to babysit for Grian again?", The Blade asks, voice deep and rumbling behind Ranboo, having let go of him in order to cross his arms across his chest. He looks amused and very unlikely to help the struggling avian catch the rogue teenager.

Phil grits his teeth and responds without looking away from the target- the bee halfling, who is close to dangling at this point. "Fuck off, I told you I didn't have a choice in the matter!", he says and then immediately shouts a warcry when Tubbo almost falls off. For his own good, he doesn't.

Yeah, Blade, you try to say no to Grian!

Ranboo laughs and is joined by The Blade's more sinister take on the vocalized happy hormones.

"You could just throw 'em out in the garden"

Automatically, Ranboo stops laughing like his throat has been cut open because Phil actually pauses. Uh oh. This can't be good–

"You know what? Yeah", he nods to himself, "The shed is good enough for these shits", the moment he finishes his sentence, he also manages to grab Tubbo by the leg. Tubbo in turn screeches like a banshee.

Phil doesn't relent right away.

"Come here!"

"No! Fuck off!", Tubbo whines, attempting to kick The Crowfather off of him.

Ranboo abandons ship, returning to the couch to avoid all chances of becoming a casualty to that fight. Also to save himself from getting yeeted outside– at least, he hopes this will save him from sleeping in the shed with these two menaces. God knows what they'll do if they get their hands on a pair of shears or a hoe or something else that can cause issues.

The other end of the couch isn't faring any better. Between Tommy and Ghostbur, it is hard to distinguish a winner in the verbal argument. In the somewhat-physical argument? Ranboo doesn't know how to judge a face squishing fight, so he won't invest too much brain power into it.

What are they even fighting about?

Y'know what? He doesn't want to know. At this point, he'd much rather watch without any context for the funsies and the blackmail material.

There is a crash in the kitchen. Looking over, it's easy to see that the window has been broken and that a certain someone is missing from the ceiling. Ranboo misses how The Blade looks at him with scrutiny, as if deep in thought, in favor of locating his friend.

"To freedom! See ya, bitcheeees!", comes Tubbo's yell from outside. Phil rushes to the window in the most disheveled state Ranboo has ever witnessed; hair a mess, bucket hat missing and clothes wrinkled. How did his clothes get wrinkled?!

"You little shit!", he shouts after Tubbo, almost following suit through the window. He stops short of tumbling over the window sill to watch as Tubbo hovers away from the house and towards the city.

The hero turns to the rest of them, face as pale as paper.

"Run, Bee Boy, be free!", Tommy yells from the couch as loud as humanly possible, making Ranboo's ears ring. Ghostbur's ears somehow aren't bleeding from the exposure to Tommy's yelling and responds with a harsh, flabbergasted glare.

"Don't condone that behavior!"

"Why? What are ya gonna do about it, pussy?!" –aaand there they go again.

"I can't fucking believe this–", Phil curses, either oblivious to the fact that they're all teenagers and shouldn't be cursed at or he simply doesn't give a fuck– Oop, there it is! "–I'll chase after him. Blade, you're on babysitting duty until I get back!"

"Heh?!"

The Crowfather has left before The Blade can utter a word of protest, bucket hat rushed onto his head and jacket taken off the rack. The door slams shut and the dumbfounded hero turns to face them all with this aura of utter disbelief and betrayal. Ranboo fidgets with his fingers for seconds that seem to pass way too slowly.

"So, uh, lovely weather we're having today", yes, yes, what a lonely, cliche ice-breaker, that's a good way to start a conversation–

"Bruh" –nope, nevermind, not good enough– "Why?"

"I, uuuuh", actually, Ranboo doesn't have the answer to that. In fact, he has the same question.

*

Escaping the great Crowfather was surprisingly easier than Tubbo expected. All he needed to do was threaten the man with a stinger (more like swipe at his face with said stinger but who is counting? ...wait, that doesn't make sense–) and then swing himself out of the window. Easy, peasy, lemon-squeezy. Except the lemon had seeds that somewhat jabbed at him as he defenestrated himself. Ow.

He flew half a kilometer away from the hero's residence, chasing after his freedom with wild enthusiasm and probably on a sugar high. Look, those cookies on the counter were begging him to take a bite!

The rest of the way to the depths of the city, he ran on foot. Of course, the only go-to place on his mind was the video club, which had miraculously remained untouched by the fire and explosives. There he'd find Jimmy and maybe Martyn, too, and he could contact Grian with their help.

Contact him about what, you ask? Why, to save him and his friends from the heroes! Duh! Isn't that obvious? The SBI have constantly been on their tails one way or another! What good would it do if they somehow found out that the vigilantes they'd been chasing were living rent-free under their roof? Ranboo wouldn't be able to fucking save them!... not forever, at least.

Maybe they'd need to flee the city and have Tommy excavate a raccoon hole or something in the wilderness. They'd have to never return to the city and live like cavemen, eating bugs and slugs until their legacies were forgotten about, like nature had intended humankind to live.

Problem is that Tubbo doesn't like listening to nature or anyone for that matter. So, he must contact Grian immediately and get his pals the hell out of there!

Actually, they don't need Grian's permission to go anywhere, do they? He isn't their legal guardian, they can do anything and Grian could only be mildly upset about it, really. Granted, the man would be mad and/or worried if he didn't find them at Phil's but he doesn't need to know. That's the point. Not to comment on the fact that he could find them way easier now –with his Watcher superpowers having been revealed and all that good stuff.

Hey, maybe he should return to Phil's house and have Ranboo teleport them away. That way, they stay safe and unharmed and they get to see The Crowfather running around the city searching for them like a chicken with its head cut off! Isn't that a funny picture?

Before he can pour more thought into that idea however, he is standing in front of the video club. He doesn't dare look up, the smell of burning concrete and gunpowder still permeating the air despite the time that has passed since the accident. He doesn't want to see the damage; he'd already risked a glance and the only thing he saw was black. The attic would be gone for a while by the looks of it.

Hold on a second. Couldn't Grian fix it? He restored a whole neighborhood at that one time with the slime villain; surely, he could fix a singular, measly building!

Tubbo decides not to think more on the matter. Instead, he pushes the door to the DVD rental open and enters, minding the step at the door. He was planning on talking to Jimmy for a bit before he needed to go and save his friends but there was no one at the counter.

Doing a double-take, Tubbo finds that the sign at the door is indeed flipped to 'open' and the lights of the refreshments display are still on. The lights, in general, are still on. Eh, the guy is probably in the bathroom or something. Maybe he's taking stock or whatever a cashier's job description requires.

When Tubbo is about to call out, he hears the distinct sound of chatter coming from the backroom. As, so, Jimmy was figuring out stock or something! Change of plans then...

Like any other (in)sane teenager, Tubbo opts for a stealthy approach to scare the living daylights out of the man. For being on the same power level as The Watcher, Jimmy is too easy to scare and surprise. Perhaps it's a side-effect of blindness –he'll have to ask later.

Slowly creeping up to the door, Tubbo is stopped short when he hears more than one voice speaking.

Is that?... Who is that? He presses his ear flat against the crack of the door that is letting all the noise out, being careful to remain as still as possible for a successful eavesdrop. He chances a look through the gap and he is greeted by multiple red and yellow and some blue feathers. So, it's Grian in there with Jimmy along with someone else! Ha! Detective skills: upgraded!

"...I have already contacted Scar" –yep! That's Timmy alright– "He said he'd see what he could cook up for us"

Then, the foreign voice speaks. "Alright, that's good" –who is that? The accent sounds familiar but the voice is completely off. It must be Martyn, there's no way it's someone else! "Grian, what's the situation with Blackjack?"

There's a long groan. "I doubt he'll even listen to me if I told him, Martyn", Grian says with a drawn-out and very dramatic sigh, confirming Tubbo's suspicions. "We're on bad terms, I've already told you this. Scar would– Actually, I could get Scar to convince him! Oh, that's a wonderful idea!"

Yes, because sending a poor salesman to smooth talk Blackjack –one of the most dangerous people in the underground– into God knows what is a wonderful idea. Truly, foolproof, well done, guys! Then again, Scar is probably not what he appears to be. If Grian hid his villain identity as The Watcher for so long, Scar could be some up-and-coming, dangerous, crystal-loving cookie monster... or something. Like Mumbo!

Scar is too nice to be a villain, though. Information and weapon supplier, maybe? Still, he shouldn't be sent into the wolf's gaping maw alone!

Martyn chuckles amusedly. "Okay, with that sorted, we should focus on finding where the god is hiding"

Tubbo's breath hitches in his throat and he barely manages to stop himself from gagging on his own spit. God? He pauses. They're looking for a god? Like, another god than God?

Look, Tubbo isn't religious by any means but even if he was, he'd find this scenario ludicrous. Three villains searching for a god that isn't the famous God... What would they even ask for? Unlimited chaos powers?

Jimmy cuts in before Tubbo can make up more ridiculous theories in his head.

"They are either incredibly small or invisible. I've only come across them once when I was fighting Dream at the factory"

Wait a minute.

Tubbo can recall how the events unfolded perfectly. When The Listener was downed and Tubbo had to protect them both from Dream and his shitty collar-stick, he'd heard a voice that was distinctly not Dream's. I actually heard a god? That's... not so hard to believe, honestly. The voice had sounded so distorted that it couldn't have been a normal person!

"I felt their presence once more after that. When Dream came by", Jimmy continued, "before Doc decided to wreck the city, remember?"

There is an audible, familiar and funny gasp of realization which Tubbo easily connects to Grian.

"So, that's what that foreboding presence was! I felt it each time I fought the Dream Team, though, I couldn't pinpoint who it was coming from"

A second of silence passes. Grian is probably receiving many judging eyes. Oh, the irony.

"You actually failed to recognize a godly presence?"

An indignant squawk that almost has Tubbo falling over in laughter. He holds himself together, however, even though Martyn and Jimmy let the loud giggles loose.

"It's been decades since I've been near a god! Cut me some slack, sheesh!"

"Fair enough"

The laughter dies down soon after.

"So, we narrow it down to Dream, then?"

Martyn responds with utmost seriousness. Tubbo feels his patience running thin.

"It sounds like a good place to start, yeah–"

Tubbo Sparta-kicks the door, effectively cutting Martyn off and nearly hitting Grian, who startles so much that he jumps ten feet into the air, missing the ceiling by a hair. Jimmy simply takes a step back with wide eyes but Martyn just stands there in his spooky Listener get-up. The man had probably heard him long before he kicked the door.

"There are actual gods other than God?!", he shouts but everyone appears to be in shock from his badassery. What can he say? He's been practicing.

Grian recovers remarkably quickly only to wince and appear guilty of something. Arguably, as a villain he is guilty of many things.

"Tubbo, how much did you hear?"

"I heard enough so you lot best start talking and tell me everything!", he takes a deep breath, renewing his oxygen supply fast to continue, "I came in contact with a god... and I didn't notice?"

"No, you didn't", Martyn is too quick to respond. There is mirth lacing his words. Magical particles swirl around him one second and the next, the giant, draconic wings are gone from his back and his dark outfit is replaced by one that Tubbo could only describe as 'Pokemon Trainer with mid-life crisis'.

With his cool collected and suddenly taking on the Look, Grian stares him down. "Why are you not at Phil's?"

"Because I can"

"That is not a good excuse"

"I don't care, I just learnt that I met a god", yeah, not many people would care about having escaped their babysitter when that truth has been revealed to them.

"Not sure if it's a good god", Jimmy adds but like that matters! The concept is simply too cool to be thwarted by a human's words.

"Did you tell Phil that you're here?"

"Nah, I left him in the capable hands of Tommy and Ranboo, it's fiiiine", Tubbo waves him of, "Now, tell me what you three are planning or I tell Stress that you left us at Blackjack's instead"

"What–", Grian stammers, "Are you blackmailing me?"

"Who will she bee-lieve? That's right; me!"

Laughter bellows out of Martyn at the pun, head thrown back. The man wipes a fake tear from his eye as he gathers himself. "They grow up so fast!"

And Grian gapes at him in absolute fear and disbelief.

"Don't encourage him!"

*

Phil has looked everywhere. He's gone to the kid's house, to the park, to the nearby school in hopes of catching him playing football in the courtyard afterhours. Nope. Nothing. He has found nothing. Tubbo has disappeared off the face of the planet– the universe, even! He can't even find his mother to ask where the bee could possibly be. Maybe in a trashcan? At this point, he'll take any recommendation.

Fundy, the ever so sneaky fox, who was helping the salvage efforts at the block of flats, did not say anything useful to him. He just stammered over his words trying to cover for the brat. Phil had raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, I, uh– I dunno, man, maybe he's at the movies? Kids love movies! There is this new one out, uh, you know?"

Sure, mate, sure. At the movies... with no money to his name! Of course, how could Phil have missed that!

He left, obviously, with no other questions. At least, he knows that Tubbo passed through the neighborhood at some point, since Fundy covered for him.

The cashier at the video club next door wasn't much help either. Jimmy –if Phil remembers correctly– claimed that (more like lied through his teeth) he hadn't seen a ball of child energy pass through with too many stutters for it to have an ounce of truth in it. Phil did get a movie for his troubles, though. Jimmy stated that it would calm the kids down real quick.

Phil ignored the sticky note on the blue DVD casing that read 'IT'. He'd honestly feel no remorse or guilt if the kids had nightmares for the rest of the week.

Now, don't call him evil! It's just that revenge is a dish best served cold, in a cold room, with no blankets and the lights switched off. Nothing wrong with a little terrorizing. It'd worked on Wil and Techno when they were younger and they turned out just fine! Not his fault they have very strong opinions on clowns being the spawns of Satan and an unexplainable fear of red balloons but hey, clowns are evil anyway! It's not a parenting fault, shut-

So, the next best thing? Find Grian.

Sadly, Grian has also disappeared off of the face of the planet. That leaves Phil with a very big target on his back.

He's lost a child and the father is missing. If he's lucky, Techno hasn't murder the remaining two alongside his own brother, so he can return them as a peace offering. As much as Phil has threatened to cook them into a stew, angry Grian is scary.

All in all, the conclusion is that he has to do something so attention-grabbing that neither Tubbo or Grian can shy away from: fix their house.

Now, now! Phil isn't a crazy man –Wilbur would beg to differ– but he does like the idea of not being a babysitter.

Sadly, the only individual he knows who could restore a building is also the most dangerous villain in the city. Is he seriously going to stoop that low for three measly kids to move out of his shed?

Yes. Yes, he is.

Will he regret it? Oh, 100% but that's a future-Phil problem.

*

Hiding in the back when Phil came running in was not something Tubbo was expecting to have to do so soon into his escapade. Honestly, though, he should've thought that the avian would fly and not take the car. Y'know, because it's the most reasonable thing to do if you have a pair of massive wings on your back.

Martyn remained in his Listener form for some time and it was during that, that he heard Fundy and Phil talking close to the entrance. They had already told the ginger to keep his mouth shut –Grian even going so far as to threaten to call Wilbur and put him on speaker in front of all the tenants– and then Jimmy was pushing them to the back.

Tubbo noted that for someone a citizen was supposed to fear, Jimmy was a terrible liar. Like, how can you mess up so bad? Just, how?

Moving on. Tubbo has agreed to help the three villains in their little endeavor of contacting Blackjack (or forced them to take him with, depending on who you ask), already preparing his excuse for The Crowfather. He was just bee-knapped by some elves or something– he couldn't tell, he was blindfolded.

Yes, that is a perfect excuse! Phil will be so confused and bamboozled trying to find the logic in that scenario that his brain will just shut down.

To be fair, he didn't expect to have to go with The Watcher as Tubbee during the night. They were supposed to grab Scar on the way to Las Nevadas because the man was supposedly great at scamming and negotiations and talking in general. That would've happened if The Crowfather didn't happen upon them on the random rooftop of a building the two of them had perched on, right as they were about to leave.

Tubbo is the first to notice, having heard Phil land behind them way before The Watcher could see him. Team advantages, Tubbo supposes, and Grian turns a second later when Tubbo tugs at his long robe.

"Tubbee, get away from him!", poor, oblivious Phil exclaims. The Watcher pushes Tubbo away before he can protest, Tubbo stumbling over his own feet and almost falling on his ass.

Honestly, why hasn't he called Stress or the police yet? This is abuse! Stress would have whopped Grian's ass if she'd witnessed this!

The Crowfather looks determined about something Tubbo doesn't know what that could be. The Watcher doesn't appear frightened by the hero's presence. Not that he ever has.

"I didn't expect you to come looking for trouble, Crowfather"

"I'm not looking for trouble", the hero replies smoothly. Well, that's a surprise! And a pleasant one at that! "I'm here to ask for a favor"

A favor? Now that's a little too far. Tubbo knows that Phil is having a hard time looking for him but to ask for help from his sworn nemesis? This theory only stands because Tubbo is incredibly self-aware and knows that he can be a chaos incarnate when he wants to be.

"And what would that favor be?", Grian prods, feigning obliviousness, when he knows what the hero wants... probably.

"I need you to restore a building"

There is a moment of silence... and then full-blown laughter. The Watcher is laughing like Phil has just said the most stupid, funniest dad joke he's ever heard. The Crowfather, in contrast, looks to be at a loss for words.

"You-" –a bundle of relentless giggles– "Babysitting getting to you already?"

Wow, Tubbo didn't think Grian was such a sadist to be laughing at his friend's pain.

"Fucker– How do you know about that?", the villain doesn't respond to the question in any way other than laughing harder. Tubbo also didn't think that Grian would have the heart to antagonize his friend but here we are.

"Then I have a favor for you", The Watcher offers once his chuckling has subsided. "That way we're even"

Phil hesitates the smallest bit.

"What is it?"

"Be on my side for the week"

Phil barely hesitates before responding.

"Deal"

Because, obviously, that won't ruin his reputation! Tubbo didn't think that his shenanigans could drive a hero to villainy but apparently, his assumptions were wrong. Oop.

*

Phil returns to a partially-destroyed house. The outside looks fine and untouched but the inside is a whole other story. Not to mention the horrid amount of noises that are coming from behind the front door, which he can hear from the porch. He is already getting a severe headache and he isn't even in the eye of the storm, yet! He has enough on his plate as it is, he really doesn't want to deal with the mess that is most-certainly his living room.

The unidentified noises stop the moment he inserts the key into the door. It is suspiciously quiet, though Phil easily picks up the small, muffled shuffling sounds, which he can only assume to be the kids being hauled into lockdown or something. That makes him feel all the more giddy about movie night tonight– as an afterthought, he rips off the sticky note from the casing in his arms. Mustering the best customer service smile he can –the thought of the kids getting scared shitless by a human-eating clown helps with that– he enters his home.

The living room is, unsurprisingly, unrecognizable. Phil feels his eye twitch and the distinct sensation of a vein bulging on his forehead. It's fine, he tells himself like he's in that burning building meme with the dog, You've been through worse. Look, once you've dealt with one of young-Wilbur's explosive tantrums, the standards for messes implode sky-high!

He doesn't expect to find Techno holding a raccoon by the scruff of its neck and the kitchen so warped that it looks like a bomb blew up. Ranboo stands in the middle of the mess of salsa and grilled cheese that line the walls and appears to be deaf to the world. Phil can just see the white puff of cotton in one of his pointy ears.

"Techno", Phil starts with the most eerie smile that he can, looking both pleased and displeased at the same time. Techno turns to him, skull mask hiding his eyes but Phil can see how his Adam's apple bobs with a thick, thick swallow. Good. "Where is your brother?"

Right on time, a hand raises from behind the couch with a muffled call for help. It appears that somehow Wil managed to get himself stuck in a space so confined that not even a shoe can fit. That's a new record! Not a pleasant one but Phil is too tired to delve into it. He is also too tired to help Wil, giving Techno a deadpan look and trusting that his son will take care of it.

Techno does, throwing the chittering raccoon in a corner somewhere to get his brother out from behind the couch.

Phil approaches Ranboo, careful as to not step into any pools of ketchup and salsa which could easily be mistaken for blood –actually, come to think of it, it could be blood. Ugh, if he has to answer to Grian for some crime against children that he didn't commit, he swears.

"Ranboo?", he calls for the youngin and clicks his fingers beside the enderborn's pointy ears. They don't even twitch. How well can cotton muffle sound? Honestly, Phil should give earplugs at some point; maybe they'll do his mind some good.

After he's done with his testing of sound absorption or whatever science is happening there, he taps Ranboo on the shoulder. That results in some spaghetti flying high to the ceiling, half of it sticking on it with creme and cheese and the other half landing sloppily in the frying pan.

With a shaky hand, the boy turns to face Phil, a sort of wobble in the guilty, embarrassed smile he gives him, and takes out one ear plug.

"Did you find Tubbo?", he asks, eyes shimmering with doubt. Phil simply smiles and he can feel how his own eyes fill with something that would belong to a villain's.

"Soon", he says, so slow that Ranboo flicks his eyes to the side for a moment. "Anyway, thank you for cooking, Ranboo"

"I–"

"Don't tell me anything, I don't want to know what those three did while I was out"

"Ah, o-okay, then"

The raccoon from before climbs onto the dinner table with grabby paws, chittering in a foreign language at Ranboo. Ah, right, that's Tommy, not a random raccoon; Phil has to remind himself even though the kid has the ring-patterned tail and the fluffy, rounded ears of the trash pandas as a human.

"Please, don't leave fur on the table, Tommy"

Said raccoon scatters from the table at record speed, falling and sliding half-way across the room thanks to the smooth, wooden floorboards. Ranboo laughs, saying something about Tommy being "such a simp", which Phil doesn't understand. That's teens for you; inventing new words that older generations can't understand.

In a poof of fur that Phil's brain can't stand to comprehend, there is now another teenager in the kitchen. A loud-mouthed teenager. It's fine. They are joined by Wilbur next, whose hair has become even messier than usual, curls charged with static energy flying to all directions. Techno returns with a bandaged arm, claiming that he was infected with rabies thanks to Tommy biting him at some point while Phil was out.

"Thanks for cooking, Ranboo", Techno tells the kid with utmost relief and fondness. That's new. Phil didn't think his son would show such open affection to a child but he is surrounded only by his family... and another rowdy Tommy. Tommy is too busy sticking his head in the fridge at the moment, though.

Ranboo is too nice a kid to spread rumors. Then again, one's genuinity could be put to question when allied with such devilish spawns of... Phil doesn't want to insult Stress and her parenting skills but Jesus Christ are they a handful! Honestly, congrats to her sanity for keeping up with them!

"No problem, sir", Phil catches the slightest hint of a blush on the enderborn's face before the boy turns his head away to turn off the stove.

"I wouldn't eat that if I were you", Tommy says with a mouthful of two-days-old sushi and a rice ball in one hand. It has probably gone bad and Phil should've thrown it out since then but there were two certain brothers whose house basically burnt down and he hasn't been able to sort through the fridge yet.

"I wouldn't eat that if I were you either, gremlin child", Wilbur challenges, already scooping up some salsa from the pot, elegantly pouring it over the spaghetti so the food is quite literally swimming in it. Why are my kids so weird?

He should stop asking that question, really. It gets repetitive after like, twenty years of thinking about it. Twenty years after the Wilbur-sticking-a-knife-in-the-socket incident. It was a sign from God, truly, that Wilbur was to never die as long as he kept being a bane to society– meaning his family.

"Fuck you, man, I'll eat what I want and you can't stop me!", and just to accentuate his point, the child rips off a chunk of rice from the rice ball. Bad move on his part but Phil will let the encyclopedia of the house (Techno) judge if that was a stupid move or not.

"It's days old! It probably has maggots in it!"

"Extra protein", Techno comments as he takes his turn at the pot. Ranboo skips it altogether and takes his plate, fork and spoon to the dinner table.

"You're way older, you've probably got fuckin' centipedes coming out of your ears!"

"There are no fucking centipedes in my–"

"I've brought a movie for us to watch with our dinner", Phil interjects before any more colorful language can be thrown about, stopping Ranboo from spinning the spaghetti onto his fork with the help of the mighty spoon. "Who's in?"

Phil tries to pass off the growing grin on his face as excitement for the movie and not as the excitement of vengeance. They won't even see it coming.

(Ends out, the three of them didn't see Ranboo's cooking becoming explosive either.

"Ha, told you!", Tommy's face is met with the spat out food of Wilbur and then Techno runs to the bathroom for the contents of his stomach to vacate his body.

Phil doesn't know how but that kid managed to mix up cumin for salt and then added hot peppers for the Hell of it. Where did he even find the peppers?!)

—

That night, Phil is woken up twice because of the cowards that are his children. He sends them off to their rooms, where he had sneakily planted some red balloons when he left the living room with the excuse of putting the dirty dishes in the sink. He had set up some elaborate mechanism to make them pop and that was what scared them.

He also finds himself sleeping amongst two bodies when he wakes up in the morning. While Tommy and Ranboo were dead set on playing tough and sleeping in the open living room, on the couch, even after another red balloon incident, they hid themselves under the covers of Phil's bed... and left Phil without a blanket. Fuckin' bastards.

—

In the dead of the night, The Listeners fly over the city, close but not right next to the Dream Team Headquarters. They steer clear of the towering skyscraper and decide that splitting up to search for the most god-frequented area would be the best course of action until The Watcher could get Scar to sweet-talk his way into Blackjack's pants.Well, he won't be doing exactly that but Jimmy has seen Scar make someone unclothe themselves for the sake of trading with empty promises before. Just because the guy doesn't have the patience to go shopping. Sigh.

The plan would be executed in five days time after Blackjack inevitably agrees (no one other than Grian, Maryn and Jimmy can escape the salesman's charm) and it has to be perfect. How they're going to make a perfect, fool-proof plan in five days, Jimmy doesn't know but apparently, the less planned out everything is, the better.

'Apparently' because the moment he lands in the alleyway free of life bigger than a rat or a cockroach, he feels that presence. Godly, unholy, certainly out of this world. Anything that could describe a god, really. A god of the End to be exact. Jimmy doesn't like this. He doesn't like how he's feeling it in an alleyway.

A trap? Is the Dream Team around? He can't see. He can only hear; listen– and he isn't about to compromise his and his team's civilian identities for a measly look at the real world.

He doesn't click, doesn't open his wings as the presence becomes all the more overwhelming; mischievous, cunning, dark and practically salivating; drooling with the thought of consuming.

He doesn't move; doesn't do as much as make a sound. They're closing in. He can feel it and he can't even call for help. Why did he land in an alley again? Stupid, stupid, stu-

"Hello, there, Listener", comes a voice too familiar to Jimmy's ears. A voice he'd heard so long ago, when he and Martyn were still lurking in the void between dimensions and spying on life for the fun of it. Back when there were more Watchers than Listeners in the End.

"XD?"

The world warps around them, buzzing, lights flickering and buildings trembling with the will of a god... Small as he is. And Jimmy knows the signs of a teleport; he did it to the kids to get them out of that battle at the factory. He doesn't like it; none of it.

Reality is disturbed regardless. A flash of light, painless but blinding even to the Listener whose glassy eyes are small, intricate decorations on his body, then the cold sweat of helplessness wets his brow.

Flapping his wings, he grapples to get away.

====

Can you feel the end closing in?