Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Quick note: There are probably going to be a lot of vulgar word choices in this story. If these offend you, please do not read this story. 

Tommy awoke from his half-sleep from footsteps echoing down the hall. He straightened up from his crumpled-up position, sitting straight up in his tiny cage. 

The netherite bars bit into his wings harshly, crushing them with his weight as he leaned back. The morning rations would soon be on their way if he even got any this time. 

After yesterday’s battles, he really needed the food. His stomach growled in protest of the emptiness, having used up all of his remaining energy to heal himself with his flames. The ground was solid netherite, leeching his remaining warmth and causing him to let out a shiver.

How ironic, a phoenix, shivering from the cold, and it’s not even late into the fall. 

The footsteps grew until a bulky, fat man stood right in front of his cage. 

“Ahhh, Gerald. . . my friend. . . how’s the wife. . . the kids?”

Gerald glared at him, eying the cage and his netherite-bound wings. “I am not Gerald you filthy MOB. Your master WILL hear of this and you WILL be punished!”

Ah yes, not Gerald, his good friend and source of punishment. 

The dog food was thrown at his feet and Gerald stomped off, presumable to tell his ‘master’ of his disobedience. Despite the disgusting food, Tommy was starving and knew he would need his strength, so he slowly picked the pellets off the ground and swallowed the coarse, dry food.

For the next several hours, he sat in his cage, alone, listening to the murmuring of the growing crowd and trying to rest what little he could. His feathers needed to be preened, but with them being stuck to his back and his arms chained to the floor, there was nothing he could do but twitch them to try and alleviate the itch. 

Once the murmuring grew quiet, he know the ‘ringmaster’ had stepped into the arena. He heard the crack of a whip and the crowd was silent, only a slight breeze and the shuffling of the sand being audible.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the best Hybrid Showcase you have EVER seen!!! We have everything from rabbits and mice to piglins, avians, and even a Phoenix!!!!”

When that was announced, the crowd went wild, screaming with excitement at the possibility of death. For Tommy, all that grew was dread - so this is what not Gerald meant by a punishment. 

As it grew later in the day, Tommy’s anxiety only grew. He knew he was being saved for last as he took hours to revive and the crowd would not want to wait for that, but exactly who he was fighting was his biggest concern. 

Would they be merciful and quick with their kill, or slow and drag it out? Would he have to see himself bleed out, or would he not know what hit him? The unknown terrified him.

After what seemed like an eternity, the ringmaster sauntered back to the cages, smacking his whip at the bars and jangling his keys menacingly. His steel-toes boots made deep impressions in the dirt, a thundering sound coming from them. 

His red trench coat swayed as he walked, brushing by cages and casting them into frightening shadows. His evil, piercing eyes, could only be described as monstrous. At last, he stopped, staring right into Tommy’s soul. 

In response, Tommy hissed, low and animalistic - hoping to make the demon at least a little scared. An evil laugh and a hardening of his eyes is all that was returned before a wicked smile crossed his face. 

“Oh, little spitfire, you’ll get what’s coming. I wonder how cold water feels right after being reborn. Shall we test that tonight?”

At his words, Tommy’s blood turned to ice and a terrified chirp exited his lips.

“Sounds like we have a plan then, my little spitfire.” With those last words, he unlocked his cage, unchained him from the floor, and harshly grabbed his wings, dragging him to the arena. 

Tommy released numerous chirps and hissed from pain, struggling to alleviate his wings, to no avail. His only release came when he was thrown to the ground, still chained, and the ringmaster walked away. 

“Well, then folks! This creature here believes it is above us humans. What do we say to that?!”

“FOUL BEAST!!” “CREATURE!!” “VERMIN!” “-T’S HIDEOUS” “KILL IT!” “MAKE IT PAY” “BOO!!!” “THAT THING?!”

“Wow, a resounding no from the audience it seems. Then, let’s meet the competitor to this creature and show it that treating us that way only takes it to hell!”

As he spoke, a gate rolled open, and out stepped a tiger. Not a hybrid, an actual animal. The large cat growled before taking a deep sniff of the air. Once it seemed satisfied, it licked its lips and dropped into a crouch, staring directly at Tommy.

The small bird chirped in distress and quickly stood up, looking for anything he could use to defend himself before remembering this was supposed to be his death - a punishment for backtalking. 

Tommy refused to give in to them and show obedience, willing to kill his opponent to show he will not be punished before a breeze brushed through his bound wings. At this he paused, looking for where it may lead. Seeing a small vent at the top of the arena that the dust moved towards, he knew what he needed to do. He needed to die.

So, with one final glance around, he hissed at the tiger, edging him on to attack him. It worked, as predicted, and instead of dodging or attacking the tiger, he ducked just enough that the tiger would hit straight on his neck.

A rush of pain shoots through his body as blood erupts from his shoulder, side, and neck. The roaring of the crowd is drowned out by the snarling of the tiger and the breaking of bones as snaps and cracks are heard throughout his body.

Unable to breathe, he coughs up blood, falling limp to the floor and having the world fade to black, feeling nothing but silence and cold. 

Unbeknownst to him, he quickly ignites, scaring the tiger, and turning to ash. The wind seems to know what to do, quickly scooping up the dust pile and floating higher and higher, closer to the vent. 

The ringmaster screams in protest, rushing out to the arena floor, trying to scoop the dust - but it is too late. All that is left is a single feather and a hungry tiger. 

Chapter Text

A quiet whispering sound stirs Tommy from the comfortable warmth he was lying in. Well, comfortable is stretching it. There were sticks digging into his back and he was laying awkwardly on his wings, pinning them to the ground. Maybe if he just fell back aslee-

“But Boo, what if he’s hurt?”

“He just came out of literal fire! What do you mean hurt?”

“He could be hurt!”

“Bee, he is sleeping in fire! Wouldn’t you notice if you were - I don’t know - ON FIRE?!”

“Well maybe he’s just stupid.”

“Excuse you I am not stupid!” Tommy shot up at the insult, quick to defend himself on instinct, only to see two, very concerned looking teens staring right back at him. Quickly scooting away and creating some distance, he analyzed his surroundings. 

The two hybrids looked to be close to his own age, probably within a couple years. One was a short brunet with tiny black, curled antennae poking through his hair. He was wearing a yellow ¾ sleeve tee shirt with blue overalls. He has pale, blue eyes and tiny freckles across his face. 

The second teen was tall, like almost seven foot tall. He had half black, half white skin - split almost evenly down the middle. One of his eyes was green and the other was red, creating a slight glow in the dark. He had two long horns that curled backwards, laying parallel with his head and half-and-half hair as well. 

Ironically, the tall, fierce looking hybrid was cowering behind the short one, barely hiding his lower body behind him and seemingly using him as a meat shield. They were about fifteen feet away, plenty of distance to notice if they advanced, so he glanced at his surroundings.

A tree, another tree, another. . . wait, is he in a forest? Quickly looking up, he peered through the pine needles and barren branches, finally seeing them - the stars. 

Back in the pit, dreaming of the stars and how he used to sleep laying under them, basking in the calmness of forests was the only thing that could lull him to sleep. But now, seeing them in person once more for the first time in years, he couldn’t even imagine closing his eyes.

But alas, there were still two very confused teens staring at him. 

“What’s wrong, never seen the stars before big man?” The short brunet sneered, crossing his arms as he looked at Tommy, now weary that Tommy could be a threat.

“No.” Tommy whispered. “Not in a very long time,” he said more confidently, staring back at the brunette and meeting his gaze. 

At this, the two in front of him slumped, stepping closer to Tommy who quickly scooted back at their advances. Seeing his reaction, they immediately ceased and held up their hands, designed to be a placating gesture but doing anything of the sort when Tommy flinched back violently and bumped into a tree that was behind him.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. We aren’t going to hurt you or anything. We were just going to start a fire actually and settle here for the night, want to hang with us?” The brunette questioned. 

Tommy considered it, fluffing up his wings at the idea of a comforting, warm fire to lay in. This drew their attention to them and he shifted to hide them more.

“Oh, you’re a hybrid too?” The taller one asked. “I’m Ranboo, we’re hiding out here to stay away from hunters. Are you from the village too? I didn’t see you around before ours was attacked, but maybe you lived on the other side?”

“N-No. I wasn’t in a . . . village. I was-” Where was he exactly? He knew he was in a pit, but where was the pit? “I was in a different village pretty far from here. They kicked me out.” I mean, it’s not entirely false. He was kicked out of his village - six years ago.

“Oh, sorry about that big man. How long have you been. . .” Tubbo said solemnly as he gestured to the surrounding woods.

“I was kicked out when I was eight. I grew in my wings and the village hated me, calling me an omen. It got to the point where not even my own family wanted me.” He gazed back up at the stars, remembering the few times he stargoze with his family, before it all went downhill. 

“Oh. Well, you have us now. You can join our little group. We are going to make a hideout, want to come?” Ranboo asked.

Tommy continued searching the stars, maybe looking for a sign to distrust them, or perhaps a signal that this was a trap. He continued staring, praying they wouldn’t be cruel. But, they were only children - how hard could it be for him to escape if something happened? Afterall, he had his wings now. 

A shooting star went right above his head, a blazing white tail that shimmered off into the deep, black sky - illuminating the forest for just a second, with his wings mirroring it and glowing slightly to match his hopeful feeling. 

“You’ve got yourself a deal Ranboob,” Tommy smirked, reaching out to shake his hand, finally crossing the distance he put between them.

“Whah- huh? That’s not my name. It’s Ranboo. Ran-Boo. There’s no ‘b’ at the end of it.”

“Sure Boob-Man. So, Tubster, where are we headed?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” Tubbo called, hooking his arm over Tommy’s shoulder and pulling him down so he could point it out for him. 

“I figured we would make a little hideout near the village in a cave a couple of miles from here. We could cause a little chaos in the town and find some information on some black market stuff. You know, like trafficking.” 

At that, Tommy paled, pulling away from Tubbo abruptly, causing him to almost topple over if it wasn’t for Ranboo catching his arm. “No - NO! I’m not going back! You can’t send me back!”

The rustling of cloth bags and the rubbing of ropes is all he heard before strong, piercing arms grabbing his arms and spun him around, pinning him to the floor. He thrashed and screamed trying to flap his wings to shake the person off of him. 

They only gripped harder, grabbing the base of his wing and twisting, twisting, twisting-

SNAP!

All Tommy saw was murkiness as his wing fell limp, shooting a sharp, unbearable pain through his whole body. He began to choke on his own tears and a bag was shoved over his face, blocking out the last light he could see. 

His arms were tied behind his back, rough and ragged, digging into his wrists until they drew blood. Then his wings were bound, broken and mangled and nothing more than a mound of pain.

-y!

His arm was grabbed roughly once more, trying to pry it from his bound wrists to test the tie job, digging deeper cuts into his wrists.

-my!!

Finally, he was sat up, an uncomfortable pain settling against his already throbbing wings and a handstroking the side of his face. All he could do was cry in protest, meak mumbles of “please” and “don’t touch my wings” stuttering out of his mouth.

Then, the hand drifted to the back of his neck, and he froze. He was guided slowly into another solid object, subtly shifting up and down, as the object moved as well.

-ommy?

A gentle breeze grazed his face, a sharp cold against his tears. Wait, why was there a breeze?

“Tommy? Can you hear me? You’re okay.” A gentle voice soothed, stroking his hair now and holding him close, a gentle breeze drifting onto his face.

“You aren’t going back, okay? Never.” It reiterated, brushing the tears from his face. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

Open his eyes? They were closed? Seemingly realizing this, he pried open his eyes and looked at the person holding him. They had black and white sking, with green and red - OH! “Ranboo?”

“Yeah, hey big man. We lost you for a second there. Can you tell us what made you freak out so we don’t mention it again?”

“It was the - the - trafficking. I can’t- CAN’T go through that again. PLEASE!” Tommy pleaded, tears once against starting to fill his vision. A quiet sizzling made his babbles pause though, as teardrops slowly dropped to Ranboo’s skin where he was holding Tommy close, causing an angry red to appear.

“You are - why are you - burning ?” Tommy questioned.

Ranboo looked at Tommy, then gestured to his body, “I’m enderian, water burns.”

“Oh, oh - I am SO sorry. Please don’t, please!”

“Tommy, Tommy! Relax. You aren’t getting sent back, ever . We were going to take it down, stop it, not participate in it,” Tubbo called from somewhere to his left. 

After letting the words sink in, Tommy slumped further into the hold, relaxing completely in the hold. The only words he could mutter were an eloquent, “Oh thank fucking Prime.”

At that, he received a couple giggles from his new friends and glanced to Tubbo, who looked like he had been digging through the bushes for something. 

Seeing the leaves in his hair and some grass on his cheak, Tommy called over to him, “Sorry about that big man, didn’t mean to interrupt your fine dining.” 

Tubbo froze, glancing at Tommy, then at Ranboo, a confused look crossing his face, “My - what?!”

At this, Tommy froze, then gestured to Tubbo’s face, “The mud, weren’t you eating it? I mean, I know it’s tasty - the goopy texture in your mouth, the earthy taste, the crunch from the little bugs inside. I didn’t mean to interrupt you with my manly wailing. So please, carry on.”

A disgusted look crossed Tubbo’s face before he dragged a hand down it, taking the leaves and grass off with it. As his hand crossed his eyes, they grew mischievous and a large grin was slathered onto his face.

“I am going to deck you,” Tubbo declared dragging his foot in the dirt like a bull about the charge.

“Wait, Tubbo, we can talk about this. It doesn’t have to be this way!” Tommy scrambled out of Ranboo’s hold and looked around for the nearest tree he could climb to get out of the way of the charging bull. 

Spotting one about four feet to his right, he slowly rose to his feet, holding his hands up placatingly. In an instant, Tubbo’s eyes narrowed and he sprinted towards tommy, head ducked and antennae pinned to his head.

Once Tommy say Tubbo begin to move, he spread his wings and with one large, steady flap (okay it was several wavering flaps), he was up in the air, scrambling toward the tree. His sharp claws extended into the bark, hooking him on as his wings curled into the tree as well.

Tubbo stopped just short of the tree and grabbed a hold of it, shaking violently to try and knock Tommy back to the ground. “What on the fucking earth made you think I ate MUD?!” He shouted, shaking particularly hard when he mentioned mud.

“What? Mud is good! Who am I to judge you how it tastes? Besides you were bent over and all dirty, and you have antennae like a caterpillar, what else was I supposed to think?!”

The shaking stopped suddenly and Tubbo looked up at Tommy, confusion lining his eyes once more. Can he not say anything that makes sense? “Wait, Tommy, you know I’m a bee hybrid, right?”

“Uh. . . . no?”

Tubbo let go of the tree, taking a few steps back and standing near the abandoned, very shook-up Ranboo. “Here, come down here. I’ll show you.”

“How do I know you won’t head-butt me again?” Tommy asked skeptically, clinging just a little bit tighter to the tree.

“How do you -” He cut off completely, just sitting down on the ground, criss-cross applesauce and put his hands between his legs. “There, happy?”

“Very,” Tommy responded, spreading his wings and elegantly landing right on his ass.

The other two erupted into another fit of laughter before sobering up and wiping the tiny tears from their eyes. 

“Okay Tommy. I am a bee hybrid, I can poison people by stinging them. I can also fly,” He said, turning his back to show the two glass-like wings. The delicate patterns perfectly showcasing their beauty and strength.

“Ranboo here is an enderman hybrid. He can teleport and gets burnt by water,” he said, as Ranboo teleported a couple feet to showcase this. Tubbo then gestured to Tommy, an expected look in his eye as he raised one eyebrow.

“Uh - you promise you won’t sell be off or be different in any way?” He said cautiously, pinning his wings to his back and curling them slightly around his shoulders. 

“Cross my core and hope to fly, until my compass points to prime,” both boys responded in unison, sitting even more firmly in the dirt and undergrowth. 

Tommy took one more look at them, searching their faces for any hint of a lie. When he detected none, he spread his wings slightly and lit them aflame, casting their area in a warm, bright glow. 

Both teens gasped and stared in wonder, glancing at each other to ensure they weren’t dreaming. “So - you’re -” Ranboo started. “- a Phoenix,” Tubbo finished, flabbergasted. 

Tommy searched their expressions once more, growing more and more tense as they did nothing. Then, Tubbo grabbed Ranboo’s hands, pulling him to face him. “Do you know what this means Ranboo?” Giving no pause for Ranboo to speak, “We’ve got a heater now! We don’t have to freeze in the winter!”

Tommy broke into laughter, not expecting such a menial use for his power over fire and slowly approached the boys as he extinguished his flames. He spread his wings welcomingly, along with his arms, beckoning them into the warmest hug they had ever had. 

Taking not a moment’s more hesitation, both boys ran into the offered warmth, shivering from the temperature difference, but being sure to only hug Tommy and allow Tommy’s wings to hug them back - ensuring he doesn’t feel trapped and can leave at any moment. 

“Well then boys, shall we go find ourselves a badass hideout?” Tommy announced, slightly stepping back from the huddle. Both of his new friends immediately let go, allowing him to retreat and nodding eagerly. 

“Lead the way bossman,” Tubbo declared, giving a mock-salute and marching in place behind Tommy, Ranboo quickly shuffling behind Tubbo.

Who would have thought that dying would be the salvation from hell? Tommy thought. Maybe this life won’t be so bad afterall.

With the trio now marching in place, they headed off north, following the blazing path of the shimmering, shooting star.

Chapter Text

Crunch, Cronch, Snap, Crack!

"How much further pant through this stupid forest huff do we have to walk?!" The tall man with pale, bluish skin complained.

He wore a long brown trench coat, fraying at the edges from getting snagged on the forest around them. A black turtleneck was just barely seen poking through his white vest that was buttoned up and a small emerald necklace was seen laying across it. His long, blue pants could be seen tucked into his tall, brown boots. He trudged through the forest as if it was a personal enemy - getting snagged on every single branch and bush possible. 

"It shouldn't be much further Wil. The tip said it should be within a couple of miles of that old warehouse, and we've already been walking for about 20 minutes," The man with deep, ebony-colored wings responded, sounding exasperated. 

He had a long black robe-like coat with two slits in the back for his wings. A green kimono could be seen, tied with a gold and black belt and laid over baggy, black pants. He wore black boots and a black and white striped bucket hat, a green emerald hanging from his left ear and a small braid being tied in his short hair. 

"It wouldn't have even taken this long if you didn't have to drag your lazy ass out here, Wilbur," The third man with pale, pink skin and large, sharp tusks inputted. 

He wore a long, billowing red cape, lined with fluffy white wool. He bore a long sword at his hip and had golden jewelry adorning his ears. A single emerald hung from his right ear and tall, black boots covered his rolled-up black combat pants. A simple white dress shirt with golden buttons was visible under his cloak and he walked with an air of confidence that nobody could harm him.

"Well I'm sorry, The Blade , but I have a life outside of working out and beating people up - unlike some people," Wilbur recoiled. 

"Meh meh meh, I'm Wilbur and I like to sing and pet ponies and save stray kitties, woe is me," The Piglin hybrid responded. 

“Oh, you BITCH !” The phantom screamed, launching himself towards the piglin. In response, the piglin simply held out his hand, holding the phantom by his forehead as he reached to grab onto the piglin’s cloak. 

“Techno, Wilbur! Shut it!” The third one scolded, staring them both in the eyes.

“Sorry Phil,” They both uttered, immediately stopping their bickering. 

The trio continued pushing through the dense forest until Techno halted in his tracks, tilting his head to the air and taking in a deep breath. 

Upon noticing his cease in advancing, the other two halted as well, turning to look back at his souring face. “What is it mate?” Phil asked, tilting his head in a bird-like fashion.

Technoblade took one more breath, deeper than before, and looked back to the other two, something close to fear in his eyes. “Something’s wrong. I smell smoke . . . and blood,” he announced, looking more frightened than before.

“We must be close to the fighting ring then. They probably have some fires lit for light mate,” Phil responded, continuing walking at their previous pace.

“No, no, you don’t understand Phil,” he paused, “I smell children’s blood.”

This caused the group to halt once more, before locking eyes and taking off into a sprint, heading in the direction of the ring. When the arena finally came into view, the only noticeable thing was a giant pillar of smoke and ash raining from the sky.

Embers landed on their arms, leaving tiny scorch marks as they hissed in pain, trying to wrap their heads around what happened. The arena was intact, not looking damaged in the slightest. And yet, people were running out from all exits, screaming about the demons that lurked inside. 

The trio quickly rushed through the crowded entrance, heading into the sandy area below. Or, what used to be sand. The floor had turned to glass in the center, with giant scorch marks shooting across like lightning from the center.

Standing in the origin of whatever explosive lay there, was a charred humanoid body, still alight with flames, despite there being nothing left to burn but bone. It was hunched over, a small, vibrant item in its hands. 

Technoblade drew his sword, cautiously advancing on the flaming corpse. He prodded it with its sword, watching as the small movement made it crumble to pieces and the tiny item floated to the ground near his boot. He crouched down to get a better look at it, not willing to touch the item that was just engulfed in flames.

When it came into focus, his eyes widened and he dropped his sword, a small clatter in the rush of instincts that flooded his brain. Kneeling to the ground, he gently scooped the small thing into his hands, never covering it to allow it to float away if so much as a small breeze came through.

“Tech! Wait! That was just-” Phil cut off as Techno turned around, presenting the small item. A single red feather, outlined with gold and fading with an ombre to vibrant yellow at the tip, just barely covering one of his palms was shown to him.

Techno huffed a laugh, "Piglin hybrid, remember? Don't you touch it though, it's hot still - feels very warm right now."

Phil looked sheepish for a second before turning his attention to the feather in Techno's hands, "Oh, right. Sorry. Just, dad instincts - you know?"

Techno chuffed at him in response, an acknowledgment of the fact.

“It’s so small? What bird even is it from?” Wilbur asked, slowly approaching the opened hands.

“It’s not from a bird Wil. It’s from a hybrid,” Phil chimed in, getting even closer to the feather and extending his hand to try and stroke it - to gauge just how well they took care of their wings.

“Don’t!” Techno quickly withdrew his hands, the feather threatening to float off with the abrupt change in directions, but ultimately staying firmly planted in his palm. “It’s not just any hybrid feather Phil. It’s a Phoenix feather.”

“But, I thought Phoenixes were myths? Hunted to extinction if they ever were real? Since that story on the supposed Phoenix in that one town turned out to just be a blaze and parrot hybrid,” Wilbur mentioned, looking puzzled at the small feather once more.

“You think some blaze hybrid can turn this floor to glass and keep a person lit on fire when there is nothing to burn?” Techno added, raising his eyebrow and surveying the area around them.

“Wait, if the feather is here, and the ground is burnt like this - where’s the Phoenix? And what happened?” Wilbur realized, quickly looking around for any traces of a hybrid that could be hiding, waiting to escape.

“Phoenixes, at least in mythology, hate being caged up - even their feathers. Most likely, the hybrid is long gone and this person’s green got to them, causing them to try and restrain the feather from turning to ash once it left the host and being lit aflame in the process. Their fire is fueled by emotion. It can be gentle and caring, or rage-filled and vengeful. If this fire was the latter, the ground turning to glass would not be too far of a stretch,” Techno added thoughtfully, gesturing to there only being one body that was burnt.

“Nerd,” Wilbur turned, covering it poorly with a cough.

“Wait, but Techno, didn’t you say you smelled blood? Shouldn’t you have smelled rotting flesh instead?” Phil asked a concerned look covering his face.

“Yeah, My guess is, it just burned too hot and quick for a smell to be emitted or something. I dunno. But for the blood -” he trailed off, then weakly pushed out his hands, still cradling the feather. 

The other two hybrids dawned a look of horror as they took in the new information. “So - so - the kid was . . . killed?” Wilbur asked, taking a shaky step backward and covering his mouth. 

“Yeah. Most likely, they reincarnated, somewhere that’s not here if this person’s pettiness is anything to go by.”

“We need to find them. What if they’re still hurt? What if they don’t have a family? What if they got recaptured?” Phil asked, panic flooding his instinct-riddled brain as his wings puffed up in distress. 

“Phil, relax. They are probably fine. Most likely just in the forest or something. Maybe they even made it to the town by now. Who knows how long this has been burning for?” Techno mentioned, trying to calm his adoptive father’s rampaging instincts.

“We should go searching for them then! Let’s leave now! Maybe we’ll even be able to find them before sunrise!” Phil chirped, starting to head off, towards the exit of the arena. 

“We can’t Phil. We need to see if there are any other hybrids here who need saving. Especially with how tall that pillar of smoke was - who knows what hunters may stop by here,” Wilbur said, cautiously heading towards the back of the arena, on guard for any soldiers that would look to take them down.

Phil’s wings slumped and he slowly began to follow after his son, looking around for any clues about where the small avian might have disappeared to. 

When they reached the back, the horrors they were met with were unthinkable.

The small back room was filled with tiny cages, the largest only being around three feet deep and four feet tall, with a large bear hybrid being stuffed into it. Wilbur spotted a ring of keys stuck to the wall and rushed over to the cages, beginning to release the hybrids.

“Quickly, get out of here. I don’t know when hunters may show up. If you head north, there’s a town there - only about a thirty minutes walk from here. It’s a coexisting town. Just tell them ‘The Syndicate has Shined a new Light on the World’ and they should offer you some food, water, and shelter,” Wilbur said, stopping abruptly when he arrived at one particular cage. 

It was only three feet tall and was solid black, iridescent, even in the darkness they were cloaked in. The floor was coated in ash and blood, a thick layer just barely covering the solid black floor it also had. There were tiny shackles on the floor, chained to nothing and made out of the same material. The too-small shackles only further cemented the fact they were keeping a child in here, to fight for their entertainment. 

“Netherite - the Phoenix probably couldn’t get hot enough to be reborn here even if they tried. They probably waited until they were fighting and took that as their chance to escape,” Techno muttered, feeling the bars and how solid they were - still trying to process the fact they kept a presumably extinct hybrid, a child, in here to fight of all things.

“I’m going to kill them all,” Wilbur muttered, a look of anger crossing his face as he drew a sword from seemingly nowhere.

“Then let’s rain hell,” Phil said, drawing a bow and arrows before the trio all marched outside the back room, killing the remaining spectators and ensuring they allowed the hybrids that were trapped an easy path out.

After what seemed to be only ten minutes, the last body dropped and Phil pulled out a small, round device - a communicator. He dialed a number and it rang only twice before a feminine voice answered, “Sir?”

“Don’t call me that you shit, you know that makes me feel old,” Phil groaned, pulling the communicator from his face as he slumped from his position.

“Fine, what did you need Phil?”

“Any paying survivors?”

“None.” The answer was finite, leaving no room for discussion. 

“Good. Thank you, Captain, I knew I could count on you.”

“Anytime my friend. We pointed the victims we saw in the right direction, repeating the code word in case they forgot. I’ll meet you back at headquarters?”

Phil thought for a moment before deciding it would be best to inform the rest of the group what likely happened so they could get more people to help, “Yeah, we’ll see you there Captain.”

With that, he ended the call and turned back towards his sons, “Let’s head back to the base now, I’m assuming you left the note?” Phil asked, looking in particular at Wilbur, whose hands were stained black and red.

“Of course. Can’t have any of their friends not know about the amazing party that happened here, now can we?” He grinned, starting to walk back towards the exit of the arena.

“Now that would be just cruel,” Techno added in.

The trio left the arena, heading north to regroup with the rest of their party. As the sun began to peak through the leaves of the arena and illuminate the inside more, a message could be read in the sand.

Made with the bodies of the guests, sluggishly bleeding but most certainly dead, most beheaded and chopped to pieces - mangled arms and limbs broken to create perfect angles, a simple message was spelled in the sand:

The Syndicate is Coming

And with that, their friends would know, without a shred of doubt,  just who they would be messing with if this unfair treatment did not cease.

Chapter Text

“Do you think this is a good spot for our secret base?”

“I think so, we are high enough that we can see anyone who comes near us and we can even see the lights from the village down there so we should be able to tell if something is wrong, Tommy.”

"But what if they see us, or follow us, or send dogs after us, or-"

“Ranboo is right Tommy, stop being such a worry-wart. We’ll even have Ranboo steal some cloaks so nobody will find out about you two.”

“Okay Tubso, I’ll keep gathering some wood to help make a wall for the cave and some fuel to keep you two warm. Can you get some food while we wait for Ranboo to get the cloaks?” Tommy asked, a nervous lilt in his voice but excitement winning him over.

“Of course Tommy. I’ll go see Ranboo off and then I’ll help find some food and supplies for tonight,” Tubbo replied.

With that, Tubbo and Ranboo walked out of the cave into the freezing cold, sticking out like wine on a dress shirt in the blanket of snow. Their breath lingered in the air before leaving them as the silence from the wilderness overtook them. A quiet whistling from the wind blowing through the leafless branches and a subtle burning of snow hitting the Enderian’s skin could be heard, but otherwise, no sounds originated around them. 

“You know what to do, right Boo? Just teleport in, grab three cloaks, then teleport back out.”

“I’ve got it Bo, but what if I’m caught?”

“Then just teleport right back and forget about the cloaks. You take priority over any dumb cloak Ranboo.”

“Okay, okay, I’ve got it. I’ll meet you back here soon.” With a flurry of purple particles, he was gone and Tubbo was left alone in the swirling storm. 

Waiting one more minute to ensure Ranboo didn’t immediately panic and teleport back, Tubbo began searching the woods for food of any kind. As he walked, he made tiny carvings in the trees about seven feet up so he could find his way back. The markings were deep and round with two shallower lines protruding from either side. 

As he walked, he made a mental note of what was around him: a tree, another tree, a larger tree, a less snowy tree, a rock, a stream, another tree, another rock, another tr- wait, a stream? Realizing this, he stopped suddenly and turned back towards the stream, listening for the trickling water to find it buried behind all the snow. 

It was fairly small, only about three feet across with the top layer frozen over. Despite this, he knew better than to step on the likely thin ice. A few ill-choices ice skating at home made him learn this rather quickly. He grabbed a long, sturdy branch and hovered over the stream, holding one end of it and looking below to aim it. Once he was certain it was right over the center, he dropped it, letting it smack straight into the thin layer below him.

CRRAAACKKKK!

The ice splintered away and the stream was left exposed. Seeing the running water issue resolved, Tubbo decided to tackle the next issue, food. He fluttered up to a tree and sat on one of the branches, staring into the stream, waiting for any signs of movement.

A small flicker of light and a quiet splash was all he needed to see before he could develop an invention to help catch their next meal.

When the particles stopped swirling around, Ranboo opened his eyes, immediately cowering away from the onslaught of noise and light in the bustling town. He teleported into an alleyway, a fairly nice one at that. The dumpster looked relatively clean and the bricks that made up the roads weren’t covered in garbage or mold. 

The buildings were all fairly tall and the snow seemed to not fall in this area, allowing his skin a break from the constant burn of his Enderian genes. 

The chattering from the town drew his attention and he slowly peered out from his hiding spot. There were people everywhere, jamming the streets and creating the perfect scene for some petty thievery. 

Ranboo glanced around, looking for someone who sold cloaks. A market stall with red and yellow banners drew his attention, cloaks on display and swaying in the light breeze. They were all different colors with a $15.00 tag on most of them. 

Perfect. 

Now, all Ranboo had to do was steal some money. 

He looked around once more for a target, spying a trio who looked well off slowly making their way down the road. 

One was short with blond hair and a deep green cloak on. It had small white gems embedded into it. 

Another was tall and muscular with long pink hair braided to his back and a long sword strapped to his hip - most likely a hired guard for the other two. 

The last was tall and lanky with brown curly hair and wire-rimmed glasses. He had a guitar strapped to his back and a satchel on his side, most likely carrying money. 

Ranboo slowly left his hiding spot, walking towards the trio but never looking at them. He kept his pace slow, gradually making his way more into their path. As soon as he got near enough, he quickly turned around, perking his ears and frantically looking behind him, as if searching for someone who called his name. 

In doing so, he bumped into the man with glasses, reaching his black arm into his pocket and taking his wallet. Once this was accomplished, he tucked the wallet safely into his pants and turned back around, profusely apologizing to the man while keeping his eyes trained below their eyes. 

Without waiting for a response from the trio, he began to briskly walk away, leaving them before they could notice the missing item. Ranboo tucked into the closest alleyway he could find and opened the wallet, checking his findings. 

The wallet was new, unbearably so. It was stiff when he opened it and had several bills neatly placed in the back of it. The bills were crisp, having only the creases from the wallet itself and only being accompanied by a single ID - Wilbur Soot. 

He pulled the $250 cash out of the wallet (wow this dude is rich) and repocketed it. Loosely holding the wallet in his hand, he retraced his steps to where he bumped into the trio and subtly dropped the wallet on the floor, heading in the direction of the cloak booth.

Upon reaching the booth, he picked a red, a green, and a purple cloak, paying the $45 before looking for another alleyway to duck into. He began wandering towards the outskirts of the town, looking for a secluded area to teleport back to their secret base. 

A particularly shady alleyway caught his eye, away from most people and providing shelter from the elements. Ranboo began walking towards the alleyway, picking up his pace subtly and carrying the cloaks in his arms.

“Hey, kid! Wait!”

Hearing this, Ranboo faltered in his steps, glancing behind him to see the trio from earlier jogging to catch up with him. Seeing his pursuers, he turned back to the alley and started running, trying to make it to the alley before they caught up to them. 

Taking one last sprint for the alley, he turned the corner and focused on his new home - or what will be home soon. With swirling purple particles and panicked shouts quickly approaching, the world warped away from him and he was left in the wake of quiet crackling from a fire nearby. 

“Boo! You’re home! Do you have the cloaks?” Tommy called, running up to Ranboo for the goods he was sent to get.

Ranboo, panting from his escape, presented the green and red cloak to Tommy, keeping the purple one for himself. 

“Tubbo! Get your ass over here! Ranboo brought cloaks!”

Tubbo came bounding over at the mention of his name, immediately spying the green cloak held out for him and pulling it on. 

Seeing Tubbo put his cloak on, Tommy and Ranboo put theirs on as well, admiring how they could hide their features and stay warm in the cold environment.

“I got you a red one so if your wings peek through it can camouflage them, Tommy. And I know you love nature Tubbo, so I got you the green one. I figured the purple matches me the best so. . . purple,” Ranboo explained, gesturing to each cloak when they were mentioned.

“It’s perfect Ranboo, thank you! Now we can explore the town together and not have to worry about hunters or trafficking!” Tubbo exclaimed, hugging Ranboo tightly around his legs due to the height difference. 

“Anything for you two,” the Enderman hybrid replied, gently hugging Tubbo back and slowly moving the two of them towards the fire and food prepared on the side. 

“Let’s eat up, get some rest, and then explore tomorrow. I saw some really cool-looking stands there. One even had electronics Tubbo!” Ranboo explained, sitting down and grabbing a bowl with some berries and cooked fish.

When the three hybrids finished eating, they lay together near the fire. Tommy draped his wings over the three of them as they curled up and went to sleep - wrapped up in safety for the first time in a while.

Chapter Text

“Phil, Phil, Phil, can we pleeeeaaasseeee go to the guitar stall?”

“Wil, for the last time, you have six guitars already! You don’t need another!”

“But my pick just broke.”

“You have hundreds!!!”

“But they might have one that is different!” 

“Wilbur, if you want one so badly, you can go and spend your own money on it.”

“Sweet! I’ll see you guys in an hour!” Wilbur called as he rushed off in the direction of the stall, leaving Phil and Techno back at the fruit stand they were shopping at.

Upon arriving at the stand, Wilbur noticed several guitar picks - all of which he already had - except for one. It was completely reflective, almost like a mirror, and would reflect any of the lights around him, helping to draw attention to his hand as he played. He held it up to the light, watching as it perfectly mirrored what was behind him. The busy shops, people shopping behind him, the tall kid from the alleyway, Techno and Phil walking towards a vegetable stand, a shady-looking dude following the kid - 

WAIT! The kid from the alleyway! 

Wilbur quickly placed the pick back down and started walking towards the kid, making sure to stay out of sight but stay close enough to jump in and help if that guy turned out to be trouble. The kid had a long, red feather woven into his hair (a sign of a flock just like the long, sleek, black feather in his and Techno’s hair) and was wearing a long cloak. He had a small tuft of black and white fur sticking out near the bottom of the cloak, swaying side to side before eventually wrapping around his leg as he walked. 

The man following him was dressed in all black, heavy combat boots walking silently on the ground and a bow strapped to his back. He had a slender sword on his hip and wore a solid black mask with seemingly no eyes. The stalker stuck to the shadows, clearly not wanting to be seen by the kid.

Wilbur followed quietly, turning transparent to help him not be noticed. They were reaching the outskirts of town, stalls becoming more scarce and the streets less crowded and maintained. The kid paused before glancing around behind him, not seeing the stalker or stalker’s stalker and tucking into the alleyway. Once in there, the stalker prepped an arrow, creeping in on where the kid went. 

The string was pulled back and aimed into the darkness and Wilbur’s eyes blew wide in realization. He ran forward, trying to grab the bow, but it was too late.

Swoomp!

A warbled scream could be heard and then silence. Wilbur let go of the man in favor of running towards the kid. He lay crumpled on the ground, the arrow sticking out of his side and a small pool of blood beginning to form around him. 

The man snickered, running up to the kid. Seeing this, the kid scrambled back, whimpering with pain as his wound was jostled. Heterochromic red and green eyes stared back at Wilbur. He was split perfectly down the middle, half white and half black. Wilbur reached out and grabbed the man’s arm, stopping him in his pursuit. 

“What are you doing?! Don’t you see what he is!” He screamed at Wilbur, trying to pull away.

Wilbur only gripped harder, pulling the man further from the boy and glaring. He opened his mouth to reply and stopped as another ear-splitting scream tore itself from the kid and a sick ripping sound was heard.

“Why did you do that? Don’t you know it’s better to leave something in?!” Wilbur shouted at the boy.

The kid only scootched back further as sparks started shooting out around his head. Moments later, the red, glistening feather in his hair caught fire and emitted a bright light, making everyone turn away. 

When Wilbur turned back, the boy was slumped back, exhaustion overcoming his features and wound - healed?

“Wha- what? How? You were just bleeding out. You got shot by a fucking arrow! How are you okay?!” Wilbur asked, walking closer to the kid himself and subsequently bringing the stalker with him. 

“What, you mean you didn’t see it? This little bastard knows a phoenix! And a close one at that. He even had its feather braided into his hair like some kind of family. A bunch of monsters they are.”

A phoenix? But weren’t those thought to be extinct? Why is one out here, and how does this kid know it?

Lost in his thoughts, Wilbur was not able to keep his grip on the man any longer and he ran up, grabbing the kid and pinning him to the floor, the kid’s head hitting the ground with a resounding smack!

“Now we’re just gonna sit here for a bit until your little friend comes to save you. Then the real fun can begin. Did you know that if you put a phoenix’s ashes in a jar, they can’t be reborn until they have enough space and oxygen to come back? Isn’t that neat? I wonder how much of the jar will be filled by this friend of yours? Hm?” The man began laughing sadistically, drawing his sword and holding it to the young kid’s neck. The kid weakly warbled in response, eyes unfocused on the world around him and seemingly not taking in anything. 

Wilbur, seeing the man’s sword begin to draw a little blood from the kid’s neck, drew his own weapon - a crossbow that was stuck to his side and aimed it at the man, making him pause in his position.

They sat there for what seemed to be hours, the sun beginning to get lower in the sky from when he first left for the market before it could be heard, a slight whoosh ing sound - easily mistakable for a breeze. Wilbur glanced upwards, only to be met with the sun right above his head. 

The sun grew brighter and hotter, seemingly setting directly on top of him. Suddenly, the sun flared and two brilliant red and golden wings shot out from it. The Phoenix swooped directly into the side of the man with the sword, knocking him off the kid and hitting the wall ahead of him. The bird landed slightly ahead of the kid on the floor, standing tall (as tall as a foot-tall bird can be) and spreading its wings menacingly. It screeched out and flames shot out from its wings, causing the man to scream as he was burned.

The phoenix glanced at Wilbur, its head turning to meet eyes with him while its body stayed positioned to guard its friend. Startled brown met fiery blue as flames appeared to dance in its eyes. They held eye contact for a moment before the kid on the ground seemed to stir. 

Noticing this, the phoenix dipped its head and closed its wings, quickly hopping over to its friend on the ground. The bird nudged his head, making him stir more and begin to sit up, clutching his head. He looked around him for a moment, seemingly getting his bearings and taking in what happened before being nudged again in the leg by the bird. 

He glanced down quickly, seeming shocked as well by the bird until it pulled another long feather and handed it to him. Realization dawned on his face and he carefully scooped it into his arms. The boy looked at Wilbur, opening his mouth to speak before a sadistic chuckle make even the black half of his face appear white. With a quick glance behind him at the man beginning to stand again and a vwoop, the kid was gone. 

Seeing this, the man immediately froze, shocked by the fact the kid and the phoenix were gone. Wilbur turned to him, anger in his eyes, and shot the crossbow at his leg, hitting him in the thigh. The man cried out but Wilbur grabbed him, unclipping a pair of handcuffs from his belt and pinning the man’s arms behind his back. Once he was secured, he started dragging him back toward the town and the guards.

Once he stepped back within range of the stalls, Techno was on him, smelling the blood and soot that stained his clothes. 

“Wilbur! Where were you? We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Phil exclaimed, checking him over for any injuries and rubbing the soot off his face. 

“I saw him again! The kid!”

“The. . . kid?” Techno responded, seemingly lost before recognition dawned on his face.

“Yeah, this creep was following him, so I followed him, and then he shot the kid, and the feather caught fire, and this guy pinned him, and this bird attacked him, and the bird shot out more fire, and then they poofed, and now I’m here!” Wilbur rambled out in one breath, panting once he realized he hadn’t breathed at all. 

“Wait, wait, wait, slow down. What mate?” Phil responded calmly, carefully maneuvering Wilbur onto a nearby bench while Techno manhandled the man to be kneeling nearby, cuffed to the bench.

“That kid that we saw the other day, the skinny tall one.”

“Okay?”

“I saw him again today, but he was being followed by this creep, so I followed him.”

“Okay. . . .”

“And once they were out of the main part of the town he shot the kid!”

“Wait! Wilbur! Where’s the kid? Is he okay then?!”

“Huh? Oh, I think so? I’m not sure. He seemed kinda disoriented but he wasn’t bleeding or anything.” 

“What do you mean he wasn’t bleeding Wilbur? You just said he was shot,” Techno replied, looking thoroughly lost in the conversation.

“Well, I was getting to that. . . Blade. He had this long red feather in his hair and as soon as he pulled out the arrow the feather started like. . . sparking and shit. . . and then burst into flames. When I looked back at him, he was all healed but seemed a bit out of it,” Wilbur replied, his eyes lighting up at the memory of what occurred. 

“Wait, Wil, are you saying that scrawny kid had a phoenix feather from somewhere? And a real one? Not a fake?” Techno replied with an incredulous look, disbelief written all over his features. 

“YES! Now if you would stop interrupting me I can get to the best part! Then this scumbag here got on the kid and was like threatening him and shit, so I pulled out my crossbow so he wouldn’t kill the kid -”

“Wilbur, we get it, you are amazing and you shot the guy, is that all?”

“NO! Then the sun got closer, and a literal phoenix crashed right into this dude! He even has the mark to prove it! The bird was like. . . this tall and had literal fire dripping from its wings!” 

At the mention of wings and how small the bird was, Phil’s own fluffed up in response, the instincts to care for a fledgling being drawn to the surface again. He stared at his son with dilated pupils, silently asking more about the bird.

“The bird then nodded at me and checked on that kid that we had seen before this guy scared them off!”

“Wait, Wil, where did the kid go? I think if you don’t tell dad soon he’s going to take off himself to look for it.”

“Oh, the kid picked it up and they just. . . poofed. . . like they did in that alleyway before. I think he’s an enderman hybrid of some sort?”

Hearing the fledgling was gone with no way of tracking him, Phil began to return to his senses, picking up on the last part of that sentence. “What do you mean of some sort? Wouldn’t you know just from looking at him?”

“Well, kinda? He was like, half and half. He had two different colored eyes and he was only half black. The other half of him was white. He even had a cute little tail with a poof at the end that was also split. Looked kinda like an oreo or something.”

“Hmmm. I don’t know of any hybrids that are usually white. But if he teleported, he’s definitely at least partially enderian. We can do some research at home to learn more about him and the bird once we drop off this scoundrel,” Techno drawled, yanking the handcuffed man to his feet at the mention of him. 

“Uhhggg, more homework! But we already have that other thing we are working on!”

“Wilbur, you were the one who wanted to help us take down these rings and the unfair treatment of hybrids. Homework is part of that deal you know?” Phil replied, rolling his eyes fondly at his son’s reluctance.

“Fineeee, but Techno is doing the paperwork for this guy since I took him in.”

“Not how that works, but fine by me if it means you actually so much as glance at a book for once,” Techno replied, smirking at his victory.

“HEY! I look at books. . . sometimes. . . “

“Boys! Let’s just turn this guy in and get home, we have a fledgli- *cough* kid to help,” Phil covered, beginning to walk back towards the guardpost. 

Wilbur slowly followed, dragging his feet and muttering next to Techno, who was completely dragging their prisoner, not even allowing them the pleasure of walking.

Chapter Text

Ranboo walked through the town, searching for a way to get money for food. He was looking for anything . . . help wanted signs, old people who needed help, easy targets to pickpocket . . 

 Anything. 

As he was browsing the various stalls, a feeling of eyes on him never left. He subtly glanced around, looking for who was looking at him, to no luck. Pulling his cloak closer around himself and casting his eyes down, he picked up his pace. 

There weren't any older people out today or pieces of jewelry or loaded pockets sticking out so he decided to get away from the main town area to shake the feeling of eyes. 

As he walked closer to the edge of the town, the feeling grew, intensifying and prickling at his instincts. His tail curled around his leg in unease, twitching from fear and unease.

His stomach grumbled at the increased pace and lack of energy but he pushed on, the adrenaline from the eyes fueling him.

When the buildings thinned out, he paused, glancing around to see if he can find the eyes boring into his soul. The only thing visible, however, was some trash floating through the streets from the denser part of town. 

The only other options to lose them would be to either run through the unfamiliar alleyways, or teleport to another part of town to see if it’s just him going crazy, or if someone really is following him. 

Ranboo took a sharp turn into an alleyway, trying to position himself so he can see whoever is following him, limiting their options to see him. As soon as he does this, however, a creaking sound could be heard. 

Rapidly pivoting to try to find the source, Ranboo turned around and his eyes latched onto a glint from an arrow. Seeing this, his tail puffed up and he prepared to teleport, but his instincts were not on his side today.

Swoomp!

He screamed, pain erupting out of his side as a burning sensation took over. He collapsed to the floor, clutching onto the offending object as his clenching muscles worsened the pain. Warm, sticky blood pooled out of the wound, barely being staunched by the arrow currently inside. 

As he laid crumpled on the floor, footsteps could be heard, rapidly approaching. Ranboo’s ears twitched at the sound of this and a man in all black ran up to him. The feeling of eyes on him worsened, despite the solid black mask that looked back at him. 

To the right of the man was a semi-translucent guy, wearing a pale yellow turtleneck and blue jeans. He seemed shocked at the interaction, despite standing right by the offender. 

The man in black advanced closer, startling Ranboo out of his fear-induced paralysis and causing him to scramble back further. As his did so, a searing white-hot pain shot through his side, the arrow getting jostled more and cutter deeper into his side. More blood began to pool out, dropping sloppily onto the pavement below. 

The man in yellow, seeing the advance, reached out and grabbed the man in black’s arm, which was stretched out towards Ranboo. The arrow man turned sharply to the sweater man, a fierce glare in his gaze as he tried to free his arm from the sweater man’s grip. 

“What are you doing?! Don’t you see what he is!” The arrow shooter shouted, continuing to try and yank his arm free.

Seeing the two distracted, Ranboo grabbed onto the base of the arrow, taking in a deep breath. He knew it would hurt like hell, and he hoped that the feather Tommy gave him would also replenish his energy so he could teleport out of here once it worked its magic.

Breathe out. . . two. . . three. . . four. . . in . . two . . . 

SCRIIIIP!!

As he breathed in, he ripped the arrow out, hard. Immediately, the pain worsened tenfold, his vision going black as an inhuman scream ripped itself from his throat. The blood poured out fast, faster than could be stopped and a slightly warm feeling tingled from the wound.

“Why did you do that? Don’t you know it’s better to leave something in?!” The sweater man shouted, quickly walking towards Ranboo with his hands outstretched. 

Seeing this, Ranboo quickly scooted back, trying to make some distance as small crackles and pops could be heard from behind his long ears. The tingling in his side grew, and his energy began diminishing quickly with it. 

A warm, comforting heat emitted from behind his head, engulfing his whole body and helping him to relax more. With it, a bright light emerged, causing him to close his eyes, the searing light hurting his sensitive eyes. 

When the comforting heat and bright light faded, Ranboo slowly peeked open his eyes, seeing the two men doing the same. The sweater man was still holding the other’s arms, with his other arm held in front of his eyes while the arrow man had pulled both his arms in front of his face. 

Once both of their eyes had adjusted, the sweater man walked closer to him, dragging the arrow guy closer as well.

“Wha- what? How? You were just bleeding out. You got shot by a fucking arrow! How are you okay?!” Sweater dude shouted, gesturing wildly with his free arm. 

The man in black scoffed in response, tugging again on the hold of his arm, “What, you mean you didn’t see it? This little bastard knows a phoenix! And a close one at that. He even had its feather braided into his hair like some kind of family. A bunch of monsters they are.”

The sweater man seemed confused for a second, subtly loosening his grip as he appeared lost in thought. Taking advantage of this, the other man yanked, hard, and dove for Ranboo. Ranboo instinctively brought his arms up to cover his face, his tail curling tightly around his waist.

The man grabbed at his forearms, pushing him down to the floor with his momentum from the dive as Ranboo’s head hit the ground with a loud smack!

Spots once more clouded his vision as his hearing faded in and out. Ranboo blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears from his eyes and focus on the present, past the massive headache that resonated within his head. It felt like his head was a rattle, being shaken up and the contents spun around, colliding with one another, as he tried to get a coherent thought through his brain.

“-ow we’re —- bit until — friend comes to save — fun can begin. — a phoenix’s ashes — can’t be reborn — space and oxygen — me back? — neat? I wonder — be filled — friend of yours? —m?”

The sound of crazed laughter finally brought Ranboo out of the soup of his mind, a harsh pounding in his skull. He only fully snapped out of it, however, as a shiing sound could be heard, a sharp, grating feeling being pressed into his neck. 

Ranboo warbled in fear, glancing around for an exit or way to push the man off of him, but finding it hard to focus on anything not immediately next to him. Another sound, striink , could be heard somewhere off to the side, blocked by the man towering over him and the sword pressed against his throat. The pressure on his neck built a little, then held still.

The world fell still, Ranboo’s roaring heartbeat taking over all of his other senses. The previously welcoming light from the sun was now scorching, shining directly into his eyes and being unable to shift away from it. As he stared into the blinding light, a black spot began to flutter directly in the middle of the sun. 

He watched as it grew in size - that’s probably not a good sign - before it suddenly disappeared, color shifting to be that of the sun. Ranboo began to get tired, the blood on his throat and side becoming itchy. He was tempted to try to teleport again, hopeful the man atop him would be disoriented enough from the teleport that he could get away after. Before he did though, the wind picked up. 

The whirring and whooshing of the wind grew louder, the sun growing brighter, before Ranboo closed his eyes, afraid to get burned from the crashing sun. Suddenly, the pressure on his neck was thrown off with a loud smack . The air grew still.

Ranboo peered open his eyes, seeing a brilliant orange and red bird sitting ahead of him, its wings spread open as though to shield the larger hybrid. A high pitched screech could be heard and Ranboo quickly reached up to shield his sensitive eyes and ears from the assault. The alleyway grew hot as flames shot out, effectively serving as a temporary barrier between Ranboo and his attackers. 

Both attackers backed up as the flames grew near, the one with the sword not backing up quickly enough before getting burned. Ranboo slowly attempted to sit up, groaning from the lingering soreness in his side. As he did, the bird’s attention snapped over to him, seeming to shrink in on itself as it slowly walked over to him. 

Once the bird reached him, it gently bumped their heads together. Ranboo stared in shock as the bird appeared to be checking him for injuries. Slowly sitting up and grabbing his head from the rush of newfound blood flow, the bird hopped onto his lap and stared upon his face in all of his beautiful, attacked and bloody glory. The bird then slowly turned its head, reaching into its glorious wings gently and combing through them with its beak. Their beak closed around a long, beautiful feather, a glistening red that faded to neon yellow, when a quiet fwep sound was heard. The feather was then carefully dropped into Ranboo’s palms. 

Ranboo turned the feather over in his hands, feeling the familiar barbules and shaft, trying to remember where it was from amongst the chaos of the alleyway. When the light caught it in a special way, it dawned on him, the sun glistening off the feather that was handed to him and the blond boy dropped it into his palm, telling him to never let go of it, and that it would help him when he needed it. Tommy.

Ranboo looked back up at the bird, carefully scooping it into his hands with the delicacy of trying to carefully move a sandcastle. He clutched the bird close, looking at the man with a crossbow, who seemingly lowered it ages ago and had a look of shock on his face. Was he trying to help him, or also attack him? Was it about the wallet? He opened his mouth to ask - and a sadistic laughter erupted from his side. The man who shot him and tried to slice his neck began to get up and Tommy bristled from in his grip, growing warmer but never burning. 

He looked at the man in fear, the man’s eyes locked on the small bird in his grip, when vwoop , they were gone. 

“Ranboo?”

Ranboo opened his eyes at the sound of the voice, seeing Tubbo in their makeshift home holding a still raw fish and looking very surprised at the sudden appearance of his best friend.

“Wait, if you’re here, where’d Tommy go?! We have to go find him!” Tubbo exclaimed, quickly setting the fish down on a pile of sticks nearby and shrugging on his cloak. 

“Tommy? He’s here though?” Ranboo replied, confusion finally replacing the panic from the alleyway.

“What do you mean Boo? He ran off suddenly saying he was looking for you or some shit.”

“No, he’s here Bo,” Ranboo replied calmly, slowly opening his hands and unwrapping his cloak from the bird nestled in them. The bird let out a quiet squawk in protest but helped to unwrap himself. 

Once freed, the firebird climbed to the edge of Ranboo’s hand and leaned forward, spreading its wings and taking off. It only flew a couple feet before flying up slightly and bursting into brilliant white-hot flames, causing the other two to squint to look at him. When the flames died out, Tommy was standing there, looking exhausted and worse for wear. His hair was messed up and his wings shook slightly. 

The shaking wasn’t just his wings though and he glanced at both of his newfound brothers before wearily. 

“Well boys, now that we are all safe, I’m going to go take a nap real quick, yeah?” Tommy spoke quietly, briefly nodding at Tubbo, then at Ranboo, then glancing towards the bundle of sticks with raw fish on them. He walked towards it, flicking a spark at the timber, carefully lighting it and creating a heater, allowing everyone to relax in the resemblance of safety. 

He laid on the flood, curling his wings around him before his eyes closed and he promptly passed out. 

“He can. . . he can turn into a bird?” Tubbo asked incredulously, never taking his eyes off Tommy. 

“I guess so? He saved me in an alleyway. I didn’t realize it was him until he gave me another feather?” Ranboo replied, slowly making his way over to the fire, staying further from it than his fireproof friend but close enough to get the blazing heat, allowing it to dissipate his remaining tension and adrenaline. 

“Wait, another one? What happened to the first one?” Tubbo replied, slowly prying his eyes off his sleeping brother’s body and dragging them over to his half-and half friend that sat nearby. 

“I - don’t know? I think it was ‘used’ when I was shot and took the arrow out.” As Ranboo said this, he lifted his bloodied shirt to show his side, which had a faint scar on it, looking as though it had been healed for years, despite the blood covering it. 

“Oh.” Tubbo replied, pausing and looking back at Tommy. “So he meant they literally can save us. But, doesn’t it hurt him, to rip out his feathers? I mean, I assume the blood on him is from you, since you were practically smothering him in your bloody shirt, but. . .” He trailed off.

“It. . . it sounded painful.” Ranboo trailed off, looking to the wing the feather was ripped from. A small shiny red spot was just barely visible. A different shade from his actual wings and having a slightly lumpy appearance to it, where it should be uniform and streamlined. 

Seeing this, Ranboo’s eyes widened and he let out a gasp, “Oh god. He’s bleeding.”

“WHAT? WHERE?!” Tubbo replied quickly, scrambling forward, just out of reach of the flames, looking over his sleeping friend’s form. His fluffy fur on his head and arms began to singe and he was pulled back into a sturdy chest as he had tried to get closer and inspect his friend. 

“Relax, it’s not bad. It looks like it’s almost stopped at this point. But I guess it does hurt. He’s bleeding a little from where he ripped out the feather.” Ranboo replied, circling his arms around the Bovid’s waist and pulling him further from the unforgiving flames. 

Ranboo stood there, holding Tubbo and staring at their sleeping brother for a while until the fish on the wood was fully cooked. When it appeared to be done, he grabbed a stick not in the fire and skewered the fish, effectively stopping their cooking process as they were removed from the flames. 

He let them cool slightly before handing two to Tubbo, placing two off to the side for when Tommy wakes up, and keeping two for himself. The two ate quietly, with Ranboo explaining in hushed tones what happened in the town and Tubbo trying hard to remain silent as his brother explained the hostility he was shown. 

“Wait, do you think it was because of the feather that he reacted like that?” Tubbo responded, carefully pulling his own feather from his hair and gesturing towards Ranboo’s, which had been replaced in his hair as well. 

“Oh.” Ranboo responded, carefully removing his own feather and looking towards Tommy. 

“It’s okay Boo, you didn’t know. It should still work as long as you have it on you, right? We don’t need to have it visible, I don't think.” Tubbo stated,  feeling along his person for a spot to hide it. “What if we make a sleeve for it inside our shirt or something and stick it in there? That way it’s still touching us directly but nobody else will see it.” 

“Ummm, won’t that be itchy though?” Ranboo responded guiltily. 

“Oh, true.” Tubbo paused, turning it over in his hands before stopping abruptly. “I’ve got it! We can put it in a pouch or pocket or something and just take it out if we need it, right? I think we should know if we are dying or something, and that way Tommy won’t be in any danger anymore!” 

Ranboo looked up at his friend, a hopefulness emitting from his eyes as he turned the idea over in his head. It seemed like a good idea and if they were ever in any danger, they still had it on them so all he had to do was touch it. It seemed perfect. 

“Yeah, let’s do that! Should we make the holder for it in a bag or our cloaks?” 

“Hmmm. I think it should be in our cloak so nobody will accidentally steal the feather if they try to take our bags.”

“Oh, you’re right Tubbo, good idea. I’ll work on that since you already did so much here.” Ranboo replied, gently setting the feather down on the ground.

He took out some cloth that he had stolen and grabbed a nearby stick and a stone. Picking up the stone, he held it close to the stick, slowly sharpening the edge of it until it was a fine tip. Then, he frayed one of the cloth pieces, unraveling it to get a piece of string. 

Following this, he pushed the sharp tip through the cloth and cloak, following it with the string, going around half of it and then starting on the second half after tying off the first half. This allowed him to create a tiny pocket where the shaft of the feather could poke straight down and hold the feather securely. 

Once this process was repeated on the other two cloaks, he laid down near the dying heat of the flames, but the ever-hot radiator of his friend, and curled up to sleep, deciding whatever else needed to be done could be done tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Hey everyone,

I'm sorry this story has gone on so long without an update (Since November 11th, sheesh). I wanted to give you all a little update as to what is taking so long.

First and foremost: This story is NOT abandoned. It WILL be finished . . . eventually.

My mental health has been on and off for years now, but in this past year, I've had a lot happen. I won't go too in-depth about it or anything, but I've had a lot happen that has just built on my mental health issues for a while. I'm basically just going to list everything that has happened to hopefully help explain why this story has gone so long without an update.

I have pretty severe anxiety but that has been lessened a little by me adopting a dog. One of my friends and neighbors murdered their parent and they had a court hearing and everything that I was requested before they were sentenced. Most of my friends moved away from here, with the only one nearby in an also bad mental health state. Struggling through college. My dad had a mass on his heart and needed two different surgeries to help him, and is still currently not in the best of health even two months later. One of my other siblings also has a lump they just discovered. Work has been, rough, to say the least. I am trying to start a second business on top of my current job. I'm needed more at home to help with physical labor since my dad is unable to. My grandparents have been calling 4-5 times a day because they expect to know every aspect of our lives. Went to therapy about it and the therapist just basically told me that shows they are caring and I should appreciate that they are trying to help my parents out (they are very manipulative and are stuck up - won't call emergency services and instead has my family drive 2.5 hours to get to them, then another thirty minutes to a hospital). And my anxiety has worsened to the point I have anxiety attacks and need to close myself in my room with noise-cancelling earbuds because of too much stimulation.

Sorry for the trauma dump, but I've been going through . . . a lot. I am almost done with school and one of my siblings plans to move out soon, which will hopefully lessen the stress in the coming months (it will probably worsen it temporarily but should improve after December).

As such, this fic has been and will continue to be on a temporary hiatus. I WILL finish this fic, even if I have lost my love for this fandom, because I love the story that I have created. I have a rough idea as to what I want to do next, but since I haven't read or watched anything in this fandom for a while, I will need to refresh myself once I am doing better before continuing this story.

If someone reading this also fell in love with the story, I would love to have a partner to try and finish the story with or if someone wants to continue the story once I hit the 10/10 chapters, I will be happy to let you.

I will be deleting this chapter when I am ready to continue the story. Thank you all for your patience and love, this story is not forgotten, I am alive, I am just trying to find some calm before I can get back into writing chaos.

Thank you!