Chapter Text
In a world of various superpowers and superheroes, Ranboo Beloved is a telepath.
Telepathy— the ability to tap into others minds and to be able to communicate with them through their thoughts. A mental power that doesn’t rely on reading the facial expressions and body language of the person, a telepath can just— read their mind. Hear their thoughts as if they were their own.
Overall, an invasion of privacy.
Ranboo is one of few in possession of this power. It’s not as fun as you may think.
It’s a power most sought after, a power significantly less common than what is normal in the super society. Telepathy is sought after for its uses, and it’s almost as rare as having a type of Healing power. People with rare powers like healing are usually snatched up by the government and forced into hero/medical training programs before they even turn into an adult.
That is the reality of having a rare power in a super society. Not fun, not pretty.
Ranboo knows his power is rare because he has never met another telepath. There has never been anyone who they haven’t been able to read, and they have never felt their mind be invaded by another telepath. Ranboo is almost 99% sure he’s one of the only telepaths out there.
Which is all the more reason to keep his power a secret.
Being a telepath is a powerful ability. The ability to see the thoughts within others heads is an ability that can be easily manipulated to the user’s will and can be easily exploited and bent to other’s wills if it falls into the wrong hands. After all—
—in a world of various superpowers and superheroes, villains thrive.
That’s why Ranboo tells no one.
When they received their ability, they tell no one, not even their parents. He doesn’t tell his friends (not that he had many to begin with), he doesn’t tell his family, and he especially doesn’t tell his teachers. It’s a secret for himself to keep, and a way to remain anonymous in this world of superheroes and supervillains, where chaos is a constant threat that runs rampant.
To everyone else, he’s just Ranboo Beloved, tall gangly teen with no powers or abilities.
He likes it that way. Being a nobody is easier. They don’t have to be anything special like everyone else strives for, they can just be themself. His ability doesn’t dictate how he spends his life. He knows if he had a healing power, he wouldn’t want to spend his life in a dingy white room healing every patient that comes his way. It’s not what they’re meant for.
They’re also not meant to be used as a telepath. They may have the ability, but they don’t want to be in that light. He doesn’t want the fame or the dangerous things that comes with heroism— he just wants to be Ranboo. Himself.
That’s why he keeps it a secret.
But he could do so much good with his power. His power could significantly help the world in its pursuit of peace and happiness. They could help sniff out villains and spies, become a living, breathing lie detector. They could become a therapist, help sort out all the thoughts in any clients heads (as invasive as that seems, it puts a pit in Ranboo’s stomach) and tell them their problems outright instead of helping them through their thought process.
Maybe Ranboo is selfish for wanting to remain in the background, even though he’s made for greater things. He has such a helpful power, a power that can help so many people with its great potential.
And what does he do with this helpful power?
Ranboo Beloved works at a Burger Joint.
“Welcome to the Burger Van, how can I help you today?”
The customer Ranboo is in the middle of helping blinks tiredly, looking at their watch once and then up to the menu hanging above Ranboo’s head. They seem exhausted, and Ranboo can definitely relate seeing as it’s almost 11 PM.
Ranboo hates the night shift, and he already has a headache from tapping into too many customers minds. They really just want to go back to their dingy apartment and conk out, probably repeat this entire thing again tomorrow. As they did the day before.
The guy before him scans the menu board, and Ranboo takes his chance to push the headache away and press into the person’s mind instead.
Getting their orders like this is easier, after all.
“God I wanna go home— uh, hm. A double burger sounds good but it’s got a lotta calories and Sherie’s been on my back about that recently..”
The person in front of him furrows their brows, and Ranboo hears their thoughts from his brain as if they were spoken aloud. He internally groans, knowing that this is one of the customers that take forever to choose a meal.
“Chicken burger? Beef burger? Chicken burgers are kinda gross…”
God, please just choose already, Ranboo is already starting to get anxious by his constant staring at the customer’s forehead. He doesn’t like tapping into other people’s minds very much, it gives him a bit of a headache if he’s in their mind-space for too long.
“Fuck Sherrie. Double beef burger.”
Ranboo types in the order before the man can even open his mouth.
“Uh, can I get a double beef burger? Sorry for taking so long.” The person says sheepishly, rubbing their neck.
Ranboo already has the order sent over, already knowing what the man chose from his mind. “‘S no problem, I get it.”
He really doesn’t— he doesn’t have anybody named Sherrie who likes to pick on his eating habits, but he’ll say he does so it doesn’t get too awkward. Ranboo is a master at socializing with people.
Ranboo swiftly takes the money the customer offers and slots it into the register, sorting out the change and ignoring the bright blinding lights of the Burger Van, a store that isn’t even a van. They’ve always hated that fact.
Ranboo rips off the printed receipt. “Your burger will be ready in just a moment, we’ll call your order using the number on the receipt.”
The guy nods. “Cool, see ya,” and leaves to go sit at one of the booths alone. Not many people come to the Burger Van at night, so it’s to be expected.
Ranboo winces, rubbing their temples to cool down the pounding behind their eyes. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to use his incredibly useful power for a bonus at a burger shop, but it works well enough for him.
Ranboo tries not to use their power much, knowing how he’d feel if someone had been peeking into his brain when he wasn’t expecting it. When they were younger and had recently discovered their ability, they had done that a lot— poking and prodding around peoples minds and listening to their every thought, learning their secrets.
At first he had used it to his advantage, just harmless cheating on tests in school. Then it was learning about gossip between certain friend groups in class, which was very entertaining to listen to.
Sometimes when Ranboo was bored listening to their English teacher go on and on about another old dead white guy, Ranboo would peek into the minds of the other students and see what they’re thinking and if they’re feeling the same way he was. There were way too many incidents where he accidentally peeked into the mind of someone thinking something— strange— and others where he peeked into the mind of someone playing a song on loop in their head, usually something stupid.
Ranboo only stopped listening to other people when he started hearing things about himself. Passing comments ranging from how tall and abnormally long their limbs are, how their split dyed black and white hair is weird (it’s natural, they’ve said that about a thousand times!), all mean and judge mental comments aimed towards them and others.
It seemed to hurt more when it’s just him.
So Ranboo shuts his power away, only using it if the situation seems safe enough. He learns less secrets, but it’s better in a way.
One thing Ranboo has learned from being a telepath is that the older people get, the darker secrets they hide. Ranboo would rather be blissfully ignorant and float in the background. He keeps control over his power, and he keeps his thoughts from drifting into other people’s heads.
But control is hard, and sometimes he slips. And slipping leads them to learning more secrets.
At this point with all the gossip and life threatening secrets Ranboo has heard, they could be considered a master at keeping them. They’ve kept their own secret quiet for long enough, so they hope that’s enough for other people to trust them with their secrets, even though they aren’t aware that he even knows about them.
Using his power like this is safer and more convenient anyways.
Ranboo turns and peeks his head into the kitchen, looking for a certain somebody.
“Tommy?”
The sound of silverware crashing to the ground has Ranboo flinching with a wince. He’s just glad Wilbur isn’t here right now. As much as Ranboo knows Wilbur loves Tommy, he’d definitely scold his younger brother for making such a mistake. Maybe even lower his pay too, just to fuck with him. He’s done that before.
Wilbur isn’t the greatest manager of Burger Van, a bit corrupt in a way, honestly— but he treats Ranboo well enough and doesn’t question when they zone out so much. It helps that Ranboo has plenty of blackmail on him from accidentally reading his thoughts too many times.
Resorting to blackmail isn’t really what Ranboo wants to do to keep his burger job, but if it has to be done, it’ll be done. It’s a good thing he’s good enough at his job for Wilbur not to pick on him as much as he picks on Tommy, although it’s more in a brotherly way.
Sometimes Ranboo wonders what Tommy was thinking when he took a part time job under his older brother. That just sounds like a recipe for disaster.
“Shit, fuck— Ranboob can you help?!” Tommy shouts from the back of the kitchen. Ranboo sighs and goes to help his friend.
They find Tommy hunched over a bunch of spoons on the ground, frantically trying to pick them up while muttering wild curses under his breath. Ranboo sighs again, and Tommy’s head shoots up to glare at him.
“What are you doing? Help me bitch!”
“Only if you say please.”
“Help me. Now.”
“Oookay.”
Ranboo quickly bends into a crouch and helps Tommy pick up the rest of the dishes he dropped, slimy from food and wet from a culmination of soap and water. Tommy’s curses only get louder as he gets something nasty from a spoon on his hand, and at this point his scowl is practically sewn on his face.
Ranboo’s sure that if he tried to peek into his friend’s mind right now, he’d be hearing even more curses than the ones Tommy is currently muttering.
Ranboo shudders. Being in Tommy’s head is not fun. Not at all.
“Stupid fucking Wilbur. Mi mi mi I’m Wilbur and I’m a stupid fucking bitch who likes to bully poor innocent little kids and make them stay on dish duty forever.” Tommy mocks with an eye roll, and Ranboo has to hold back a laugh.
“So I take it you’re stuck on dishes duty again?”
Tommy’s scowl somehow deepens. “Wilbur is a bitch. I should be out there greeting the public.”
“You terrorize the public.”
Tommy grins sharply, “Oh Ranboo, you have no idea how much the public loves me! Women flock to me when they hear my name.”
Ranboo raises an eyebrow. “Mhm.”
Ranboo knows that’s definitely not true. Tommy in of himself is women repellent.
Ranboo helps Tommy finish up and promptly wipes his hands on some paper towel, getting the disgusting combination of food and water off his hands. They shudder as they run their hands under hot water a second time and watches as Tommy does the same, a disturbed look on both their faces. Washing dishes definitely isn’t sensory friendly.
“Alright Ranboob,” Tommy says with a false-sweet smile, one Ranboo has learned to recognize long ago, “You wanna switch places with me, your good friend Tommy Innit? The best person alive? Would you do that for me?”
Ranboo locks Tommy with a deadpan and checks his watch. “Nah, I’ve been away from the register for too long anyways. Goodbye.“
“WHA—”
Ranboo simply walks out of the kitchen and back into the cashier’s area as echoing screeches of various colorful curse words bounce off of each other in a joking range from Tommy. Ranboo barely has time to hide their smile before they make it to the register where two people are waiting.
Their appearances are interesting, Ranboo notes. One of them has blonde hair pulled back into a short and stubby ponytail, and patches of blonde beard peek through their jawline. They have a friendly smile on their face, not at all minding the ruckus in the kitchen. The other person is taller with baby pink hair wrapped into a sort of man-bun, a deadpan expression set on their face with annoyance burning into those red eyes of theirs.
Ranboo’s glad he’s not the only one who stands out. Having heterochromatic green and red eyes along with natural split black and white hair gets them more curious glances than they’d like to have.
Ranboo faces the two with an apologetic smile, wincing as something else crashes in the kitchen.
The two customers don’t even blink at the noises, instead looking upwards towards the menus.
“Sorry for the noise back there,” Ranboo starts, feeling the awkwardness beginning to seep in, “A coworker of mine is having… issues.”
The blonde one laughs, and it’s a sound so light and free that Ranboo can’t help but be surprised.
“Oh this is nothing, mate. Tommy’s usually worse when he’s at home with Wil.”
Ranboo blinks. “Wait— you know him?”
The blonde one smiles warmly. “I’m Phil, he/him. I’m Tommy and Wilbur’s dad.”
“Technoblade, he/him. Glorified babysitter.” The pink haired guy speaks up in a monotone. Phil nudges him with his elbow and gives him a stern look.
“Not ‘glorified babysitter,’ you ass.”
“Superior uncle.”
“Oh, you fucking—”
“Uh, not to interrupt—” Ranboo says, completely contradicting his statement and interrupting them anyways, “—but is there a reason you’re here? Did you want to see Tommy? He’s on dishes duty today, but I can go get him if you wanna say hi—”
“No need, mate.” Phil says with a kind smile, “Wil told us earlier that he’d be in the back, we’re just here to grab a quick bite before we head out.”
“Ah, alright then.” Ranboo nods, opening up the electronic register to the menu. “So uh, what would you like?”
The blonde one hums quietly to himself and Ranboo takes that as his cue to quickly slip into his mind. Hopefully the other won’t notice his incessant staring.
“Wilbur will be pissed if I don’t get him a burger as well, especially from his own establishment. Ice cream? Nah, that’ll give me a stomachache before the Plan tonight. Two chicken burgers and small fries then.”
Ranboo inputs the order before Phil can speak his answer, feeling proud of himself for lasting this long with a growing headache. Hopefully these people will be the last for tonight, and Ranboo can go to sleep.
Ranboo doesn’t notice the way Techno’s eyes caught onto the movement of their fingers, furrowing his brows when he realized Phil had yet to even speak.
“Can I have two chicken burgers and one small fry?” Phil asks with a polite smile on his face. Ranboo nods once and turns to the other man, getting ready to read his mind for the next order.
Techno shakes his head before looking up at the menu, eyes scanning over the words. Ranboo readies themself to take a peak into the pink haired man’s mind and—
Burger go n o m
Nom nom
Get Tommy ice cream, that’ll be revenge for Phil
YES YES YES
blood
intruder? intruder????
NO GET OUT
OUT
OUT GET OUT GET OUT
E
GET OUT
OUT—
Ranboo breaks out of Techno’s mind with a stumble, head pounding with blinding pain. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears and the echoes of all that screaming, that loud echoing demonic screaming that had just assaulted him.
A concerned muffled voice speaks from in front of them, but it only serves to aggravate the massive headache that seemed to sink into the depths of their skull, pounding and aching and they couldn’t even see—
With a hand gripping his forehead and the other entangled in his hair, Ranboo looks up, vision slightly blurry, but still visible enough to make out the equally concerned and distressed faces of Phil and Techno, both radiating concern and confusion.
“You alright? What happened?”
Ranboo blinks.
That’s a good question. He doesn’t even know what just happened.
Techno just—
Was that him??
Ranboo’s eyes shoot over to Techno, and they could hardly contain the bewilderment on their face. Techno looks at him with a similar skepticism, so Ranboo looks away and straightens up, holding their breath when the world goes dizzy. His vision is slightly less blurry.
“Sorry, migraine.” Ranboo says, and his voice is more stilted than he wants it to be. “It’s been a long night, and I guess the pain just flared up for a moment there.”
Phil frown in sympathy. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. We won’t keep you waiting any longer. You got your order Tech?”
Techno blinks at him, long and hard before he shakes his head, something unreadable passing his expression. “Uh, can I just get a large coke?”
Ranboo almost numbly clicks on the ID for coke, and selecting the size as large. They send the orders off, and the people in the kitchen will take care of the rest.
The motion is strangely unfamiliar, now that he finally listened to an order instead of fishing it out of the customers head beforehand. Ranboo’s mind swims in muted confusion and a bit of fear as the receipt comes out, along with their ordering number.
“… Number fourteen, when I call that number you should come up to get your food, oh-!” A worker from the kitchen sidles up next to him, laying the order of two burgers, a bag of fries, and a large coke on a red tray with neatly folded wrappers, “Or not, it’s already here.”
Their coworker gives them a thumbs up before heading back in the kitchen, probably to goof off like the rest of them. At night, things get a bit more chaotic than usual.
Phil takes the tray with a smile, handing over his credit card. “Thanks… Ranboo the Beloved?” He squints at Ranboo’s name tag and the boy suddenly feels a bit self conscious. It takes nearly all of his self control to not peek into Phil’s mind to see what he thinks about something as inconsequential and dumb as his name.
He’s also a bit frazzled from what happened earlier. What happened in Techno’s mind earlier.
“Uh, just Ranboo please, and he/they.” Ranboo says, swiping Phil’s card as the payment goes through and giving it back, which Phil is quick to put back in his wallet. Techno speaks up—
“So you’re the kid Tommy was rantin’ to us angrily about.”
Ranboo cocks their head, only feeling a bit unnerved at the analytical gaze the pink haired man was giving them, “..Doesn’t Tommy rant about everyone? I swear he always has a new person to be upset with like, everyday.”
Usually when Tommy rants about someone, it’s either because he’s jealous of them or it’s because he likes them enough to want to be friends with them, but doesn’t want to be considered “soft.” When Ranboo had first started working here, they were criticized relentlessly by Tommy until they thought they might just break, but then Tommy had stopped one day, attitude doing a full 180.
Tommy just doesn’t want to be seen as weak, so he puts up walls to anybody he doesn’t know yet. Ranboo somehow managed to get past his rough exterior and see him for what he really is: caring beyond belief and too determined for his own good. Now when Tommy criticizes him, Ranboo knows there’s a joke hidden underneath.
Basically, Tommy is all bark and no bite, as much as he loves to deny it.
“Oh, he definitely talks about you a lot mate.” Phil chuckles, “You seem like a good friend to him.”
Ranboo’s shoulders hike up to his ears, “Oh, uh, thank you? I don’t really know what to say to that.”
“You don’t have to.” Phil says as he places a tip into the jar on Ranboo’s side, “Thanks for keeping Tommy company.”
Ranboo nods, feeling a light smile grace his face, “Mhm, yeah, thanks for stopping by, I guess.”
Techno tugs incessantly at Phil’s sleeve until the blonde man sighs and picks up the food, passing the soda to Techno.
“We better be off now, have a good night.”
“You too!” Ranboo waves with a smile as Techno and Phil exit the store.
Techno turns back, making eye contact with Ranboo. Red eyes meet heterochromatic green and red, and blink once.
Techno turns and follows Phil.
Ranboo is left sinking in unease.
With a shout to the back to Tommy, telling him that their shift is finally over, Ranboo goes about cleaning up their work station, running the encounter over in their head.
He met Tommy’s dad, who seems to be the polar opposite of Tommy in every way except for looks. Matching blonde hair and blue eyes, they looked exactly alike. Ranboo also met Tommy and Wilbur’s.. uncle? Babysitter? Some guy with pink hair, whose mind space was even stranger than Tommy’s.
Ranboo pauses. What even was that? Usually he can hear the person’s conscious, and the conscious is just a singular voice. But these were thousands of voices, no— millions of voices, all screaming and overlapping each other.
And they noticed him.
That’s never happened before.
Huh.
Technoblade.
The first person Ranboo couldn’t read.