Identity: a dsmp fanfic (incomplete)

2

Ranboo had woken up in an odd void room that reminded him of his panic room, a fact that he had conflicting feelings about. He didn't know how he had gotten there, but he could assume that Dream probably had something to do with his present situation.

He was laying on his back, humming Fallen Down, and wagging his tail to the beat when the blackness in front of him shimmered. He noticed the distortion out of the corner of his eye and sat up to find Dream's signature smiley face staring back at him.

"I thought so." Ranboo immediately recognized Dream's voice. He'd heard it enough in his own head.

He laid back down with his hands behind his head.

Dream chuckled.

"Confused?" he asked, amused. Ranboo sighed.

"What do you want, Dream?"

"Wha-" Dream stuttered, "HOW?!" he yelled. The eerie grin disappeared in a flash, and suddenly he was standing a few feet away.

Ranboo jumped to his feet and backed away from the masked menace. Dream surveyed Ranboo thoroughly, creepily, really, and turned to pace. He occasionally twisted to stare at the half-enderman.

"Care to explain?" Ranboo asked after a while. He knew he wouldn't get an answer from him any time soon. Dream tore off his mask and threw it to the ground, hard enough to crack it in several places.

"Why didn't it work on you?!" he shouted.

"Why didn't what work on me?" Ranboo found his frustration disturbing.

"I control you in your sleep countless times and I can't even hide your identity from you!" He muttered under his breath. He roughly tore his hands through his hair.

"Wait, what?!" Ranboo was beyond confused. What was he talking about?

Dream finally turned around. His hair was longer, his face scarred and ashen. Prison hadn't been treating him well. He locked his gaze on Ranboo, who could see the pure hatred burning behind his bright green eyes. Dream sighed with apparent resignation and pointed threateningly at him.

"I'll deal with you later." he said before disappearing as quickly as he had came. Ranboo blinked a few times in shock. Had what just happened been real? He sat down, taking the ring from his left horn. He stared at the gold band resting in his palm and thought about his husband.

"I hope you're okay, Tubbo."

That's when the rumbling started.

.

.

.

The ground began shaking faintly, but Tommy was too busy shouting obscenities at the surrounding void to notice. He didn't know much about Dream, and he'd only just met him, but he had already decided he didn't like him.

Tommy had quickly grown impatient with the mysterious voice. He had demanded what the voice wanted, what he had to do with it, and who they both were; and immediately found himself falling to what seemed like his death.

He'd landed in a field near a gaping chasm. An odd black grid hovered above, casting a large shadow in the light of the setting sun. Dream had introduced himself and told Tommy his name. The mirror had startled him, and he hated for it to have been taken away, yet he didn't need it. His image was scored into his mind.

He was wearing a red and white shirt and a blue sweater. There was a compass hanging around his neck with smudged writing on the back, and his blonde hair had a white streak that hung in his eyes.