wanted selenelion | sbi

yearning for lullabies

4 - the clouds overhead open up, for the wicked and just all the same.

-

ranboo's black tail lazily moved against the wind, the white tufts of fur on the end of the appendage flowed in contrast to the breeze. the goat hybrid and the ender boy found themselves often hanging out at tommy's place, looking forward to kristin's cooking and to the young blond's incessant explosions of profanity; that's how it went for six years, and the trio were now all at the pog age which is sixteen, one and six glued together - they were now not old but a little older than they were yesterday, which, in tommy's opinion, is very poggers.

they've grown taller (ranboo mostly, the growth shocked him slightly - he wasn't born a hybrid, when the dragon was summoned, the bursts of magic coming from the realm the creature resided in caused endermen to come to existence, and caused some people to turn into ender hybrids.), and they've changed drastically; in tubbo and ranboo's opinion, tommy changed - from the stoic, stone faced boy who threatened the goat hybrid at sword point, to a loud and obnoxious teenager - they weren't aware that the young blond merely reverted back to how he was when his older brother was still with him, but not fully back.

there they were, seated and flopped over inside the blond's bedroom, ranboo was huddled in a corner, rambling on and on about something weird (no, it definitely did not make tommy's heart ache because of how reminiscent it was of when wilbur tried to convince him that sand was an adequate food source, or when the curly haired boy tried to convince him that anteaters didn't deserve rights or basic respect [it definitely made tommy's heart yearn for his older brother once more.].) while tubbo was stretched over tommy's bed - while the blond was sitting on one of the beanbag chairs kristin sewed up a few years ago. "i'm just saying, right, pasta is very underrated." ranboo continued rambling, trying to prove a point nobody believed in. "miss kristin sort of agreed with me." the dual haired boy huffed.

"yeah, she was too nice to disagree." tubbo responded, fiddling with the blankets. "'boo, you know she probably agreed at the general concept, right? she agreed that 'pasta was great', but she probably didn't know about your belief that pasta belonged in breakfast foods or some stuff like that." the goat hybrid continued, making the blond wheeze and seemingly pop a lung.

"dear prime, pasta is nice, just - not shoved inside birthday cake or some colossal bullshit." tommy said in between wheezes, making tubbo laugh along with him - and eventually, ranboo. "and yeah, totes agree with you, tubs - mum is simply too nice to disagree or at the very least - acknowledge boob's eccentricity." the blond teased, making the ender boy frown exaggeratedly and poke his tongue out while flipping tommy off. 

"your mum's very nice, tommy, whatever the fuck happened to you?" the dual haired boy asked, and at that - the goat hybrid felt like spitting his lungs out from how much he was laughing and wheezing, and now - it was tommy's turn to glare and call ranboo a huge bitch.

"by the way, tommy. i've been meaning to ask-" tubbo started, before gesturing over to the old, dusty piano shoved in the corner of the blond's room - three, old and unopened bottles of ink and a thick, leather bound journal sat above the ignored instrument, "-do you know how to play the piano?" the goat hybrid hummed, and the ender hybrid perked up - also curious about the answer.

"i mean, yeah, i haven't touched that old thing in a while." the blond responded, looking down at the diamond pendant hanging loosely off of his neck, "my older brother loved music."

"mine did too." tubbo responded, melancholic and in a haze, but he snapped out of the trance, looking at his friend. "where is he now?" the goat hybrid asked, and the blond looked at the floor; tommy had been living a slow life, he doesn't think about wilbur much (well, he does, but he denies that he does.), and staying with his two best friends was quite comforting, so is the normalcy of their witty banter.