Headcannons - Dream Smp

Saviour

TW for emetophobia, graphic descriptions of blood and injuries, manipulation :D

A long high tone rang out in my ears as I tried to force my eyes open.
Where was I? I couldn't see, my eye, it's hurts.
The ground was rough beneath my torn palms, gravel and dust digging into my wounds.
I tried to push myself up, only for pain to shoot through my whole body, pushing me back down.
The ringing faded away partially, the grousem sounds of horrific screaming, pain and fear filling my ears. Children, mothers, father, they were injured.
I attempted to rub the dust from my right eye, making the pain worse but clearing my vision slightly.
Red.
That's all I could see.
Fire, smoke, blood.
My other eye, why couldn't I see, what was this pain that made my stomach curdle. Bile entered my throat, as I coughed it felt my insides were on fire.
My fractured hand cautiously checked my face, there was nothing. The pain had made my face numb so I hadn't realised it was no longer there, or at least half of it. Just spikes of bone and ruined muscle.
I turned over, the ground seeming to shake beneath me. Black smoke and dust filled my lungs, I fell back coughing as the world got darker once again.
Oh.
A smile.
Leaning over me, who are you? You funny man, are you here to save me?
Darkness.

I gasped in clean air, shooting straight up in my quarters. I grasped and touched the walls and blankets around me, forgetting where I was.
My bed, my room, I'm safe, nothing but a memory coming back to haunt me as I slept.
"Same nightmare again?" Came the voice from the doorway.
I hummed "Yes, every night" I hadn't realised my hand lifted to touch the cold iron plate covering half of my face. I'm alive.
"Well you're safe with me, trust me, while you're here nothing will hurt you" I looked to the figure now in my room. I had problems with my memory and he had been helping me, he was so kind to offer this help, I never would have thought someone would help an enderian such as me.
I smiled, he made me feel safe, I was so lucky. "Thank you, for everything."
The man hummed back, tilting his head. I could not make out his face as the light came from behind him, just the shadow of his horns beside my bed. "Get to sleep, you need it for tomorrows lessons."
I nodded and lead back down, the light inching away as he closed the door, leaving it ajar, just how I liked it.
He was an odd guy, he didn't seem much older than me. He didn't act young though, he knew things. He told me who I was, he taught me English, he taught me important stuff. He told me how to strip mine properly, the best items to trade, the best enchantments. He also taught me great ways of life, that will help me get stronger.
He may not be that much older than me, at least a few years, but he was definitely more mature, and much cooler.
I may only be 13, or so he tells me, but  with his help I think I can get pretty good in this world. He must be around 18, 19 maybe, he hasn't told me but I'm pretty sure.
My thoughts of my saviour drifted away as I fell back to sleep, hoping that the memory wouldn't come again.

It was one of the only memories I kept from before the accident, the explosion had destroyed a large portion of my head and damaged my brain. He told me that he'd help me remember, and I think it's working.
I know that I'm an enderman, of some kind. He doesn't let me out much but he's told me of my species, helped me remember the language. It helped a lot with enchanting his weapons.
As much as I forgot, that one painful memory always came back to haunt me. The sound of my people screaming in horror, I can still hear them, the ringing in my ear never left.
My weren't fully grown when they were damaged, the metal prosthetic he made for me wraps around it, helping it stay strong.
I do not remember my old name, it would be something in enderian, but no matter how hard I try it won't come back. I prefer the name he gave me anyway, Ranboo, it suits me I think. Single word names seems to be his favourite.
He suits his, I do know his real name, but he told me never to use it. He new name is much better anyway, he is my Dream come true and therefore why shouldn't he be named after it. He saved me, and what a great way to commemorate him.
Every day he sits me down and teaches me his ways, he knows my memories are bad so he let's me write them down. My favourite rules so far are [REDACTED] although he doesn't seem to show a particular interest in them, he prefers the ones that will help me socially. Help my survive and come out on top, because its either that or death.
He could have let me die when i was young, but he chose to help me, so I must do as he says.
Sometimes I am afraid of him, he can be a little bit scary, but it's okay because I know it's just him. He's just trying to intimidate me, it's one of the rules he showed me. He told me that since I'm tall I can much more easily have power over people, he says it makes people weak when you literally look down on them. That's why he makes me sit, he will never be weak infront of me. I would close my eyes if he were.

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A painful grunt echoed down the halls, my ears picking up the distant cry.
Upon hearing it again I got up, cautiously and conceded, tiptoeing through the wing.
"Dream?" I tried, listening again for the murmer.
I continued to where I heard it last, when it came again, much much louder. "Dream!?" I started to run and turn the corner, my long legs taking me far.
The bathroom door was ajar, the bitter smell of blood reaching my scarred nose.
I pushed it open, slowly.
He stood, hunched over the sink, blood covering his face and hands, filling the white dish. Red splattered on the ground where a short saw had been discarded after use.
"Clay!? What happened oh my gosh" I jumped in, trying to avoid his blood on the floor.
"I told you not to call me by that name" He groaned, turning his blood soaked head. His partially blonde hair hung wet in his face, his piercing eyes staring daggers into my heart.
His beautiful horns that I ever so marvled were gone, blood and bone were left, chipped away.
My hand shot to my mouth, blocking my vomit. "I'm so sorry sir, are you OK?"
I flinched, afraid of the answer, I didn't realise how afraid until a crazed chuckle rose from deep in his chest.
"Sir?"
He chuckle turned into a full on cackle, fresh blood still pouring down his face. "I'm doing amazing Ranboo! Can't you see!?! I have reclaimed myself! I am Dream! These were the last thing tying me back to my past, and I realised I don't need them, they only weighed me down. So I got rid of them, sawed them off with my own hands! What a great day to be free."
His green tunic has now turned a miserable brown, the beautiful detail now muffled with the liquid of his heart.
As I stared into the broken sections of his horns and winced, they were so beautiful before.
"Don't look away from me, if you're disgusted then say it, Rule 129, don't hide from the grousem things in life or you will never be ready for when you have to."
I slowly turn my head back, taking another look at the dark blood drying to his long hair.
"Good, now leave, I will clean this up, do not worry for me, and if you pity me I will kill you" He turned back to the mirror, simpering at his work.
"Yes, of course" I stood up straight and left the blood soaked room, holding my stomach as I made my way back to my quarters.
Half way there I cam across one of the large mirrors that covered most of the walls in this place. I saw myself in the reflection, my metal plate reflecting the sunlight from the high windows.
I stopped, turning and looking directly on to myself.
My eyes were mismatched, it was kinda cool. He had given me a glass eye when he repaired my face, I'm not sure why red was the best but aesthetically I guess it went with the white of the iron.
How could someone look such a mess and yet so pampered at the same time. My slim black patterned waist coat over a ruffled baggy shirt, with a little ender eye on the collar. I liked the clothes he provided me, they felt right, he was good with those kind of things.
The endereye comes from my culture, I've read about it in the library here. They are supposed to resemble the original eyes of the first ones, a species of endermen that came long before the ones we know today. They're good luck charms basically, I'm not sure if they work but I sure do feel lucky here. It's nice to wear, keeps me linked back to my family, whoever they were.
I traced a finger along my salvaged skin, light scars still visible, but a reminder of how lucky I am. My eye looked a lot like the one around my neck, sometimes I lift it and pretend that it is my other eye; or at least I used to, when I was younger.
I haven't seen an enderman since the accident, infact I can hardly remember what they look like. I just have to imagine the dark half of me on both sides.
I reached forward and pulled up a smaller mirror that hung with many others below, sliding it up against the center of my face so it reflected a fully black endermen into the mirror.
I wished I looked like that, without this silly iron on my face.
I placed the mirror back and gazed at my face again.
The iron covered most of my mouth, with my young I could feel the fake iron teeth he gave me so I could eat properly. Most of my bone under there is probably just iron, surprisingly I've never thought about it before, what my face looks like under the mask. Bet its gross.
I suddenly remembered what I had just saw, I had forgotten when I got distracted by my reflection. My hands shot to my horns, feeling them for safety.
I liked my horns, sure one of them was held up with iron but it was a part of me now. One day they'll get a lot bigger, much bigger than his. I'd like to wear the same gold he used to around the base, it added personality. Since he isn't going to be using his anymore, maybe I'll ask for them when I'm older.

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Definitely a part 2 coming xoxo mwa mwa