#possessed!ranboo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

proudfreakmetarusonikku · 1 year ago

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uhhh I kinda went crazy with this. might edit it for ao3 in the morrow bc I love it that much. the allium duo joint exile fic

tw: abuse, kidnapping, injuries, suicidal ideation, self hate, manipulation, brainwashing, vomiting, ableism (either unintentional or solely as a manipulation tool), mutilation, starvation, possessive behaviour, obsession, threats

it's raining, when they’re exiled.

ranboo has his suit jacket pulled over his head and when droplets slip through to the tips of his claws he hisses and jitters. sometimes, it looks like he'll almost disappear and reappear, like the endermen he so resembled, but instead he falls to the ground with a pained screech, the calves of his feet burning on impact with the sodden ground where his skirt isn’t long enough to protect.

still gripping painfully onto tommy's arm, dream slowly walks back to where he fell, and hits him with the butt of his axe. the screech of pain is distorted, almost otherworldly, and it’d be terrifying if it wasn’t so fucking sad.

“get up,” he hisses. “or i'll fucking kill you, and then-“

dream doesn’t have to finish his sentence. shakingly, ranboo gets onto their talons, wincing as they try and match the brutal pace dream immediately sets back on.

(he'd tried to save ranboo. he really had. he'd said it was all him, he lied, but ranboo had confessed, trying to get him out of this mess, and now he was in it too.)

(tommy wants to be sick.)

he’s not quite sure when and why things happen. they’re on a boat at one point, cramped and barely afloat. water sinks in and burns the bottom of ranboo's feet. there’s shouting after that. an explosion. a beach. tommy drags a shaking ranboo under a tree to keep the rain from falling on him. more shouting. more explosions. pain. blood on his collarbone. pain pain pain. blurring vision.

tommy drags himself under the tree and curls up next to ranboo and hopes he'll fucking bleed to death.

——

it rains far too much in logstedshire.

that is what tommy names it, the logs tell him too. they send their messages from the primes. maybe, if he listens, they'll accept him despite his sins.

he doubts it. he doesn’t deserve it.

he dug a den on the first day, for ranboo to hide under, but even the dirt under there grew too damp and after tending to burns all across his face, he'd spent what energy he had left with the aching scars and bruises and gnawing hunger in his gut to hang up a tent. it's only big enough for one of them, but that's okay. tommy doesn’t mind sleeping on the beach.

(it allows him to pretend maybe the tides will come in and he won’t wake up at all).

he pinches himself. dream wouldn’t like him having those thoughts.

honestly, tommy isn't sure what dream likes. it’s not like he and ranboo were stupid enough to break the rules- they’d learnt that painfully over the first week. it just seems like dream always favours the one of them, and who that was switched on a dime. one day, he'd bring ranboo chocolate (watching him like a hawk to prevent him giving any of it to tommy) and hit tommy for daring to look at him. another, he'd spend all day hanging out with tommy and shout at ranboo until he cried when he so much as said a word.

it was easy to resent ranboo, sometimes. when he got hugs and gifts and food and got to spend the day playing around instead of being forced to mine. but tommy remembers the times where dream extended that kindness to him and remembered how awful it made him feel when ranboo was being treated like shit. it was almost worse.

he just tries harder to be good. if he's good maybe he'll be able to get dream to stop. if dream likes them both maybe everything would be okay.

it never is.

——

when ranboo shows tommy his memory book for the first time, he really is sick.

which is annoying, because he'd only had scraps ranboo had hidden today, but fuck. it was bad.

tommy could recognise dream's handwriting from a mile away. even if he couldn’t, the pages blatantly ripped out would give the game away, along with what was in the book.

“my name is ranboo,” the first line read. “my home is logstedshire. my best friend dream keeps me and my friend tommy safe here. l'manberg kicked us out so dream is helping. if we follow dream's rules to protect us everything will be okay…”

ranboo rubs tommy's back, as gently as they can. “are you okay? are you sick? i'll ask dream for a potion.”

tommy shakes his head weakly. “no, it's…”

he can’t fucking break this spell for ranboo, though. his throat dries up when he tries. ranboo was always the happier of the two, excited in a way that was almost funny in each passing day. it was like ranboo had become the loud, excitable one and tommy had grown quieter and more distant.

and this was why. he didn’t have a fucking clue what was wrong, did he? he's happy because he thinks this is safe, thinks this is normal. and maybe it's selfish of tommy but prime he wishes he could live in that fantasy land where he doesn’t know it’s not normal for your best friend to hit you and starve you and never explain why. at least one of them should get to live that life.

“nowt. just hungry.”

ranboo furrows his brow in concern. “i'll be good today, then.”

tommy feels sicker at that. dream had started switching from his weird hot and cold game to being… nice. usually. it was weird, at first, but it was alright. dream was a good friend, even if he wasn’t as cool as ranboo. but the thing was, it was even worse when they actually fucked up.

they wouldn’t be hurt at all. dream wouldn’t change a thing with them. it was always the other who bore the full weight. no food, no privileges, any sort of thing they’d earned the right to keep taken away. if it was more serious, then they’d be hit, or shouted at, and dream still sometimes used the axe. they’d be abandoned to tend to themselves and do the tedious work of survival while the one who actually fucked up would have the guilt eat up at them as dream chatted like everything was normal.

ranboo forgot to make armour to destroy yesterday. a grievous enough sin, apparently, that now tommy's still smarting bruises.

he's not stupid. he knows that isn’t right. he likes dream, it’s better to have him as a friend than a jail or and he was pretty sure he was trying to help, but what dream does to them isn't okay.

but ranboo doesn’t need fo be burdened by that knowledge. they, at least, deserve happiness, even if it is fake.

——

ranboo moans in pain as tommy finishes up bandaging the stumps where his tails once lay.

he can still smell the enchantment on dream's axe, hanging in the air like pollen. it almost drowns out the stench of blood and the ash of the ruins around them. he’s not sure which is worse.

it’s all tommy's fault. it has to be. he tried to pretend like he could own things, and he knew ranboo would bear the brunt of that punishment. dream had just done what he always had done.

“it's okay, big man, it’s okay,” tommy tries to soothe, running fingers through the overgrown mop of hair that almost reached down to ranboo's waist. he just flinches more.

tommy just screwed everything up, didn’t he?

a week. that was what dream had said. he'd visit in a week, to watch them. until then, it was all tommy's responsibility to take care of ranboo, and he wasn’t sure he could. there was just so much blood.

he shudders, thinking about what dream will do to him if ranboo dies on them. being without his best friend was bad enough, but dream could make anything worse.

tommy sobs, trying to keep the tears from landing on ranboo's already scarred and tattered skin the best he can. he fails, and the faint smell of burning flesh joins the horrible mix and ranboo lets out another faint moan.

if dream could see him now. he'd always been there to watch over them, and what if when he came back to watch, there was only one of them left?

“well, watch me now,” tommy mumbles to the air. he was meant to be there to watch them.

watch them. watch them. that sits wrong. he's meant to be their friend, right?

“you were only here to watch us.”

tommy mouths it more than speaking it, but it feels like a proclamation. he was only there to watch them. just watch. he wasn’t their friend. he didn’t care about making them better. what he cares about is watching them.

and then what? would he even care if ranboo died?

would he kill him himself?

“ranboo.” tommy hisses. “can you stand?”

“tommy?” ranboo slurs, eyes half open.

“ranboo! fuckin'- this is important, okay?”

“i- i think so-“

“okay, then this is what you’re going to do, big man. there’s a cabin through the snow that way.” tommy points vaguely in the direction of techno's place. “there’s more bandages there than i have. i want you to run there, as fast as you can, and not look back.”

“but-“

“i don’t know how to do this,” tommy admits. “i've dealt with shit before but never like this. if you have those supplies you'll at least have a chance of surviving. now go, before you die.”

“but dream-“

tommy's throat constricts. “i'll explain. he'll understand. he's our friend, right?”

ranboo nods, before stumbling up to his feet, limping across the ruins towards the vague direction of the tundra. tommy whispers a silent prayer to the primes that he’ll make it. that at least one of them will survive.

ranboo deserves it more than him, at least.

——

dream, unfortunately, did not kill tommy. if only he’d be that merciful.

he pretends it’s mercy. he pretends to be concerned and he treats tommy with condescending kindness until he doesn’t. then, tommy sometimes swears he does die, but when he's better dream is even more smothering and the cycle continues.

he’s not stupid. tommy knows why he does it. he wanted two pawns, and if he lost one he'd do anything to keep the other. nothing personal.

it's easier to see it like that, at least. it's hard, sometimes. but it's easier.

dream does not call the room he’s in a cell, but it is. it’s in a prison, and he's locked in most of the day. the baby-blue wallpaper and fuzzy carpet he'd installed hadn’t changed that, nor had swapping out the sparse furniture for a million blankets and decor more suitable for someone half tommy's age. he almost misses the dark obsidian and lava- at least that didn’t treat him like a child.

because even if sixteen was a child- he could admit to that now, because ranboo was certainly just a child- what tommy had gone through had undoubtedly aged him out of that.

they train, sometimes. on days where dream doesn’t panic when tommy has so much as a paper cut, or on days when he's not beating tommy's head into the wall. sometimes, tommy helps repair dream's endless supply of cloaks. sometimes, he cleans blood off of dream's weapons and tries not to think about how it got there.

(sometimes it’s his, and that’s easier.)

dream, in almost paternal tones, calls tommy his protege. under his breath, tommy calls himself a glorified servant.

every day, his thoughts drift to ranboo. his kind smile, the scars that ran jagged lines over his entire body, how absurd he looked in his half-ripped suit and tiara, trying to keep his hair in an orderly braid and failing miserably. dream would help sometimes, if it was a good day. dream insists on braiding tommy's hair the same way now, and tommy almost wonders if he misses him too before he reminds himself that dream does not care for either of them at all, because the alternative is worse.

(either way, it’s clear tommy would be the favourite. dream says as much, saying how thankful he is that tommy is the one that stayed because he was far more fun and ranboo was boring. tommy reminds himself it’s a lie and it makes him feel less sick.)

maybe ranboo is dead. part of him hopes he is. that way, he was free. the primes would surely guide his way, and he'd be granted the happiness he deserved. fuck, even if they didn’t, there couldn’t be anything worse than this.

could there?

——

tommy doesn’t know how long he spends in the prison before dream decides to take him out on his “first mission.”

which is a meeting. of fucking course it is. because tommy’s mission has always to be a glorified page, hasn’t it.

tommy skims his fingers over the waters edge absently as dream rows. maybe they’re leaving the server. maybe if they didn’t tommy could make his own escape. if he sank to the bottom it’d be deep enough no one could save him in time, if he were to jump. and if dream didn't constantly shift from looking at the ocean to tommy, clearly aware of the same possibility.

dream always got so fucking mad if he tried to die and failed, so it was best to make sure that the opportunity wouldn’t fail.

they stop too quickly to have gone far. idly, tommy wonders how far they must be from-

logstedshire.

the ruins lie there, same as always. tommy hadn’t noticed how bloodstained those ruins are until now, red and green.

the skeletal remains of two tails still lay on the floor, undisrupted.

“what the fuck.” tommy says under his breath. “what the fuck.”

“aww, didn’t you like the surprise?” dream laughs, and tommy immediately prepares for the worst. “chill out, i'm kidding. you act like i'm gonna kill you. we're obviously not here for this, we're going to see techno.”

tommy feels an equal amount of hope and fear bloom in his chest at that. techno's cabin was this way. and if it was, then maybe…

suddenly determined, tommy walks as quickly as he can, trying to match dream's confident strides even with the limp in his leg. he can barely feel the humid awfulness of logstedshire shift into the equally awful ice of the tundra, all caught up in his thoughts.

maybe there would be a grave. or maybe ranboo would open the door, or he'd be in the cabin, because surely techno would take him in. he'd be wearing a cleaner suit, and he'd have cut his hair back to shoulder length. they liked it long, actually, so maybe they’d keep it. they’d be smiling, like always, and they’d greet him with a hug. “tommy, it’s been so long!” they’d say. and, he hoped, they’d add “i realised dream was a fucking bitch” and tell techno to punch his lights out.

or maybe there would be no hints at what happened. but tommy can hope, even if he really shouldn’t.

when they get to the house, techno's already standing outside, waiting. “i dunno why you had'ta keep me waitin’ this-“ he says, cutting himself off once his eyes drift to- “tommy?”

“i told you it was important, right?” dream laughs.

“he's dead.”

“prime, no. he's… he wasn’t well, y’know. not in that place. so i found somewhere better for him, and started helping when i couldn’t before.” dream shrugs. “of course, that’d be illegal even though it was the right thing to do, so i kept it quiet. don’t go telling l’manberg, though, or they’ll have my head for not killing him myself or something.”

liar. liar liar liar. tommy wants to scream the truth to the world, but dream wraps his arm around his shoulders tight and squeezes his bruises, a reminder to stay quiet and be good. so he nods.

techno growls. “i knew they were bad, but…”

“it’s okay. i just thought maybe tommy needed a change of scenery, y’know? he's… he's fragile, after everything. he’s not well, y’know, physically or mentally. so he might say some weird stuff, but i knew you'd be able to handle that.”

techno snorted. “yeah, i got my hands full with ranboo-“

“ranboo? ranboo's here?”

he was alive. he is alive. tommy feels more sick than he ever has in his life and he’s not sure if it’s from excitement or fear.

“oh yeah, you two were in exile together, weren’t you? c'mon, he's in the livin-“

tommy pushes himself free of dream's grasp, excited to finally see his friend, practically his brother, again for the first time in- months, maybe. he could never even be sure. time felt like it dragged too long to tell.

bursting through the door, tommy sees them. he won’t miss them for the world. their hair's different, in a ponytail, and they're dressed in much more casual clothes than they’d normally be caught dead in, but he could recognise that face anywhere.

“ranboo!” tommy scoops ranboo into a warm hug, barely noticing how they remain limp. “oh, prime, i missed you so much-“

“do i know you?” ranboo squeaks, and tommy's heart breaks.

“ranboo, it’s me! we were in exile together, remember-“

“i'm sorry. i'm really sorry. but i- i don’t remember a thing.”

oh. of fucking course. because he didn’t have the memory book, he must have forgotten everything by the time he’d healed enough to really be cognisant again. tommy scans his face for the slightest hint of recognition, but there’s none.

tommy must be a fucking bitch, because he bursts into tears then and there.

“i'm sorry! i'm sorry!” ranboo cries out, desperately trying to find a way to salvage the situation, and tommy keeps sobbing. and sobbing, and sobbing. the floor falls underneath him, and he curls up, shaking, like a fucking pussy.

he didn’t even cry this hard when dream was at his worst. but the idea of ranboo not knowing who he was, his only friend, the only person who ever cared for him no longer being able to… it was stupid, but that must be his breaking point, he guesses. like a fucking idiot, that makes him cry harder.

“i'm so so sorry about this,” tommy vaguely hears dream say, “he's not mentally well, is there a spare room i can help him calm down in?”

“yeah, there’s one upstairs.”

tommy barely registers as he's lifted up like a child, carried away from ranboo, but he does when he hears dream whisper harshly in his ear.

“tommy, if you fuck this up i'm never letting you out again. ever. smile and play nice and act like l'manberg ruined your life, or you'll wish i'd let you die.”

tommy nods, still sobbing.

“and dry your eyes. you’re making me look bad. stop acting like an abused puppy, i practically spoil you.”

tommy tries to stop, but the tears refuse to stop, even as he tries to dry them with his hands desperately. dream's voice softens as he ruffles tommy's hair affectionately. “look, i know it’s tough, but this is for you and ranboo, y’know? if i'm able to make things right, you can be friends again. i'll make sure he remembers you, tommy. i know how to fix it, just let me, okay?”

tommy nods, finally managing to go from hysterical tears to a more reasonable level of crying.

“that’s good enough. just smile and pretend everything’s fine, okay? i'll even let you listen to your discs for a while when we get home if you’re good. and remember it’s for ranboo too.”

it hurts tommy's face to force a grin, hurts his heart to try and think of how to pretend to play along with dream's story and throw his home under the bus. but tommy isn’t stupid. he doesn’t believe dream’s bullshit, but he knows what he’s implying. behave and ranboo won’t get hurt.

that, at least, is a comfortingly familiar game to play.

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