🗝𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐚𝐠𝐞🪽 || Y!DSMP × Reader

"AHHHH BEE DUO!!!"

"Argh...what the..." the sun above you blinds your eyes. You cough up some dust, crawling out under what you could only describe as a pile of limbs and sharp twigs. When you finally sit up from where you got knocked over by a small wagon, you can see the two people responsible for the crash, still on the ground, trying to get up.

"What the hell-? Are you insane...?" A wave of headache hits you, making it difficult for you to actually get up. You look over at the pair in front of you. They seem to be about your age. One of them wears a thick winter jacket with many patches and the other one has split-died black and white hair, kind of matching the vitiligo skin. The two have an almost comical hight difference.

The taller of them both, the one with the split-died hair, comes back up pretty quickly, ignoring the cuts on their skin. He offers you a shaky hand, a waterfall of apologies coming from his lips right away.
"Oh god- we are so sorry- I promise it was an accident, we never wanted this to end this way, sorry- oh are you alright? Do you need help?"

The shorter one, whose jacket now was torn up by the twigs and thorns in the bushes, chimes in more weakly at that.
"Ugh...we are very sorry for that, bossman...boss-woman? Boss...yeah"

"Oh Tubbo I told you this was not a good idea-" You are pulled up by the taller, and they go to brush away the dirt and dust from your clothes, apologizing again. From the corner of your eye you see the red wagon. It is now missing the handle, a couple of wheels and the old paint that hung onto the metal for what seemed to be years. The shorter teen, whose name was Tubbo, apparently, now sat up as well and was looking at the wagon with a conflicted look.

"It's fine...or whatever. I think?" You brush off one of them, the one who clung onto you with a worried look like an anxious mess. "Just what- how in the world does one come to such a stupid idea?"

-"Hey! It was not stupid-It was flawed, okay?"

The person next to you sighs at the comment of his friend. "Sorry again. This is Tubbo, he's a bit obsessed with his inventions and hose don't always go well. And I am Ranboo, his friend."

"I wouldn't I'm Obsessed. I just like building stuff. And I just don't get why this didn't work like it was supposed to" he kicks the broken wagon, at which the another part of it just falls off. With a sigh, he gives up and turns to you. "Anyway, yes, we are really sorry for crashing into you. Also, did you know you are bleeding?"

You look down at your knee and just see a nasty open wound, the red wagon standing no chance in comparison to the trickling crimson on your injured limb. At the sight of it alone, you let out a wincing hiss, your leg aching even more when you stand on it.

"Really? You just noticed that it hurts?" Tubbo raises an eyebrow in question at that. He takes off his winter jacket, revealing a more summer appropriate green button up. He then joins Ranboo's side to help you lean on them and keep the weight of your leg.

"No time to waste on minor things", you comment, attempting to push away from the supporting grip, which only tightens at that. "Come on, I am fine, I'll just walk it off."

"No!" , both say in unison. Tubbo continues again after that, having already forgotten about the wagon and now busy steering you into the direction of town. "Geez, are you kidding? You are bleeding all over the place! Let's go to my place, we'll patch you up. Come, come!" With that the two friends escort you without further question.

_

"Is it alright? Can you still walk like that, [Name]?" Ranboo's nervous yet soft voice puts out the same question for maybe the fifth or even sixth time during the walk. On your way to Tubbo's place you had briefly introduced each other.

The two turned out to be friends who lived here their whole life. After they learned that you were somewhat trapped in this dead town, their enthusiasm to help you and build a connection strangely grew really fast. Slowly, their firm hold on both sides was feeling a bit suffocating. Maybe it's just your nerves.

"Yes, yes. I told you I am fine. No need to be so concerned about me. I still don't get one though- why exactly do I need to come with you, if the place I stay at wasn't too far away?" You have been walking for some time now, having to go up the hill that the two came rushing down from. Both Tubbo and Ranboo constantly insisted on taking breaks to let you rest.

"No, but it's fine-It's not like I will die of a simple wound-"

-"Just let me help you. Alright?" Tubbo cuts you off in a sharper tone and silences your protest.

You look up at Ranboo in question. They look at the silent Tubbo sadly, before giving you a weak smile, which did nothing to hide the previous tension. Something bothered Tubbo, but you decide to drop it.

After some time in complete silence the shorter guy clears his throat as you approach one of the town's houses. "Sorry for that. Look, we're here. Come in you guys. Don't bother with the shoes, my dad is not at home." He immediately dissappears in some room, saying that he would search for some bandages.

Ranboo leads you through the house, which aside from the slight mess around, looks completely fine and ordinary. After helping, you step over all the few randomly spread empty beer bottles, they sit with you on the couch and carefully roll up your pants. Those are now ripped and stained with blood, which is still gushing out of the wound. "It won't get infected, right?"

Ranboo gives it another anxious glance and makes even more effort to avoid your eye contact. "Ahh I- I don't really know. I hope so...", they say sheepishly, doing the opposite of calming you down.

The sound of a window right by your side has you flinching slightly and turning your head towards it, to see Tubbo crawling in.

"Where were you? I thought you were getting bandages?", Ranboo asks, probably just as confused as you are. Their friend jumps down and closes the window. He swiftly empties his pockets from a roll of bandages and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, which he swiftly starts to unpack with a pocket knife. "I was. But we didn't have any at home, so I got into Bad's house and took something from his cabinets"

"Won't he mind it though-? Argh-fuck!" You bite into your lip from the sting the rubbing alcohol caused when it came in contact with the wound.

"Who,  Bad?" Tubbo stops for a second, wondering whether he should've washed the wound with water first. At that Ranboo just offers him a wet rag, which he takes. "Oh no, he won't mind. He is the pastor at the local church. The really ugly one, that has this tower that is kinda shaped like an egg? Yeah, I'm sure you've seen that one already. Anyways, he has been my neighbour since forever, and never really complained when I lend something from his house"

"Sure, lend. Let's call it that." Ranboo comments, wrapping the bandage around the disinfected wound.

You hummed in thought. "A pastor? He really doesn't say anything? And I thought that stealing was considered a sin..."

"Well, maybe god makes an exception for friends? I don't know, that guy has some very vague guidelines..." Tubbo shrugs.

Ranboo nods, taking a look outside. The rays of sunshine, which were fighting to get out behind the clouds, get completely swallowed up by massive black rain clouds.

"The universe truly is a mystery...one can never be sure of what or who is hiding seemingly right in plain sight, watching us..."

...

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