Chapter Text
In Oz, there was a witch.
A truly wicked witch with skin that was green as a toads. He had terrorized Oz, flying on his broomstick with an army of vicious flying monkeys. No one in Oz dared say his name, instead calling him The Wicked Witch of the West. Most people forget about the West bit for this witch was the wickedest of them all.
One day, everything changed.
A man came to Oz in a flying house and crushed The Wicked Witch of the East, who had trapped the poor, defenseless munchkins in his territory. The man named Technoblade had a pet foal named Carl and claimed to be just a potato farmer who wanted to go home.
So, Ranboo the Good gifted him the ruby red heeled boots and sent him on his way to The Emerald City, all while The Wicked Witch demanded he return the boots, for they were infused with great and powerful magic.
In his journey on The Yellow Brick Road, which would be told to children for years to come, he met a scarecrow who wanted a brain, a tin lady who yearned for a heart and a cowardly lion who was in desperate need of courage.
Together, these heroes arrived at The Wicked Witch’s castle, where The Wicked Witch tried to burn the scarecrow to death out of spite. The brave man splashed both the scarecrow and The Wicked Witch with water.
And because The Wicked Witch’s soul was so unclean, the pureness of the water melted him away! The man returned to The Emerald City, the boots on his feet, and with three taps of his heels, he finally got to go home.
Thus, Oz was going to have its biggest celebration and everyone was ever so thankful to know they were finally safe! There were even rumors that Ranboo the Good himself would come to the celebration.
This was the story. The story that ended like all stories do with good triumphing over evil.
The story that ended happily ever after.
But just because a story is told doesn’t necessarily mean all the most important details were made clear.
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The Emerald City was a whirlwind of excitement. The Ozians hadn’t been this excited in years and it showed. Banners and balloons were being hung up throughout the street and every citizen was on the streets that seemed to shine brighter than normal. Principals let children have a day off from school and all the workers were using a sick day, even the bosses!
“Spread the good news he’s dead!” They all said to each other. “Spread the news The Wicked Witch is dead!”
“Look, it’s Ranboo!” Someone shouted and everyone around looked up in awe.
Ranboo floated above the crowd in a pink bubble, looking just as happy as anyone else. He looked perfect as always, with his light pink suit and perfectly brushed hair.
“Well, are you all happy to see me?” Ranboo said and he grinned at the cheers of the Ozians. “Of course you all are! For today is such a wonderful day, one that will be remembered for years to come!”
“I, Ranboo the Good,” Ranboo coughed a little bit and for just a moment his smile looked strained. Like a tightly wound spring about to snap but he was quick to cover it up. “Would like to officially announce that the melting of The Wicked Witch occurred at the 13th hour after the bucket of water was thrown on him by the man in the flying house. Let us all rejoice, for The Wicked Witch is dead!”
“Huzzah!” The Ozians cheered. Men threw their top hats into the air and women threw their hair bows. “Spread the good news!”
“Let this be a lesson to your children,” Ranboo said as parents nudged their little ones to listen. “That wickedness will be punished. After all, nothing good came from it and wickedness left him all alone!”
“He died alone! He-he died,” Ranboo stuttered for a moment, the Ozians looking up in concern and confusion. “He died all alone,”
“Mr. Ranboo, why are you crying?” A child yelled up at him.
“Oh, am I?” Ranboo said, wiping his cheek and looking down at his wet fingers with confusion. “Thank you for the concern but these aren’t tears of sadness. They’re tears of joy!”
Of course, that made sense to the Ozians. Why would someone so good mourn someone who had been so wicked?
It just wouldn’t make any sense.
The Ozians continued their celebration in the emerald streets, singing and dancing as Ranboo laughed and used a spell to summon alliums onto the bushes.
“Ranboo, why was she so wicked anyways?” An Ozian shouted up at him.
“Well, it depends. He could have been born wicked,” Ranboo said and the Ozians mummered in agreement. “Or he had wickedness thrust upon him,”
“After all, he did have a mother and father like everyone else. And he was born, just like everyone else is. But he was born different, with that green skin,”
“Well, surely that was nature itself telling us what would happen,” An Ozian said. “No one is just born naturally green!”
“It couldn’t have been easy!” Ranboo said, trying to get the people to understand. They had to understand just a little bit, just a little bit of empathy would be enough.
“Well, it’s good she’s dead and gone!” The Ozians yelled and cheered. “Goodness knows the wicked always perish! Goodness knows goodness always wins in the end!”
“Yes, and as much as I want to stick around, I’m afraid I have important business to attend to,” Ranboo said, his bubble floating away from the crowd. “So goodbye my dear Ozians and rejoice! For The Wicked Witch is dead!”
“Ranboo, just one question,” a man shouted up towards him. “Is it true you were his friend?”
It felt like all of Emerald City went silent at that. The man’s wife gave him a smack on the shoulder. Ranboo’s face went pale and his eyes went wide.
“Friends? Well, I wouldn’t say that,” Ranboo said with an embarrassed chuckle. “But I won’t lie to you all. I did know him,”
The Ozians gasped, whispers of shock and confusion spreading from their lips.
“I did know him because our paths just happened to cross once or twice,” Ranboo said. “We both went to school together but that was such a long time ago,”
And that it was but Ranboo still missed those simple school days. He could never admit it to anyone but he did.
Back when he wasn’t Ranboo the Good and there was no Wicked Witch.
Instead, it had been simply Ranbow and Tommy.