Work Text:
So fucking pathetic.
Remember.
Piece of shit.
Remember.
Bad person.
Remember.
Bad friend.
Oh.
He wasn’t even aware of the burning tracks his tears left as they ran down his cheeks. It could’ve just been the crying obsidian, anyway. It didn’t matter, did it? Who cared if he was crying? His friends. What friends? Those friends. The notebook. Check the notebook.
Ranboo pulled the notebook out of his back pocket with trembling hands.
:)
Instead of the names of his friends, that smiley face stared back at him. He could feel the coldness, the soul-sucking empty vastness behind those two little dots. Did they blink? Maybe he just needed to look closer.
He pushed his nose against the page, the two black dots daring him to close his eyes. Minutes, hours passed. They could see into his heart, couldn’t they? They’d know he was good. Dream would know he’s a good guy, he’ll show him. His eyes burned and he blinked, and at once the small obsidian room was covered in little black eyes. Beady, dreadful things, crawling like bugs along the walls and under his skin. He thrashed about, hoping to shake them off, not noticing his crown falling to the ground and cracking.
The eyes filled his veins and burst out, dotting his vision and making his head spin. Ranboo tore off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves, scratching at his wrists and forearms to get the little bugs out. They weren’t coming out, though, why wouldn’t they come out? He tried calling out for help, but the eyes filled his throat and poured out of his mouth.
Get out get out get out- please please please-
Ranboo coughed, the black being sucked into his lungs as he gasped for breath. He had to get these things out.
He shoved his hand in his boot, pulling out the small iron knife he kept for there just in case. He really didn’t like fighting, but if it was against himself, that was okay, right?
Several blades swam in his vision before he slumped into the corner, steadying himself enough to focus on his silver savior.
The black eyes were seeming to collect just under the surface of his scratched wrists, so this shouldn’t be too hard.
He smiled weakly as he solidified his grip on the leather handle as best he could. His friends would be proud of him for doing this, right? For taking care of himself, for not needing anyone’s help, for not being a burden. His friends… who were they again? He’d better check his notebook really quick just in case.
Ranboo scanned the room (when had it become so small? What were those eyes doing everywhere?) and saw the notebook lying open-faced to his left.
:)
Ice clogged his veins as he coughed up more eyes, watching them scuttle away across the floor as his head spun. He didn’t have friends, did he? He did. He did. He did-
The knife was sharper than he thought, and it hurt more too, slicing through the pale skin of his left wrist with ease. A few eyes burbled out with some blood, but not enough. He could still feel them swarming inside, they were in his legs now too. Ranboo tried to stand up, but his ears rang so he just slid lower in the corner and pulled his dress pants off. Just as he thought, the eyes roamed freely under the skin of his thighs, forming and reforming words he couldn’t read, maybe names, until they all made two words, one on each thigh.
Bad Friend
It didn’t hurt as much this time, Ranboo noticed from far away. He held the knife in his fist, making sure to apply as much pressure as possible to get the eyes out. They called him a bad friend. He wasn’t a bad friend! Blood and eyes seeped from the deepening cuts in his legs, but Ranboo knew they were still in there. Returning his focus to his wrists, he nearly threw up at how many more had collected there while he had been working on his legs. He cut deeper this time, using the point of the knife to pick out any eyes hiding away. It was getting hard to breathe, but that was probably just the eyes in his lungs. He would work on getting those out later. Right now, he had to finish his legs. The eyes had reformed those words, that lie. It was a lie, wasn’t it?
Ranboo dug into the flesh of his thighs, using his fists to smash any eyes on the ground that tried to scuttle away out of him and into the corners of the room. He couldn’t risk them getting back inside him later. This was a one-and-done extermination job.
It was getting really cold, but that was probably just because it was nighttime and the obsidian got cold at night. He couldn’t hear much anymore, either, but the eyes were just plugging his ears. He could feel them crawling down the back of his shirt.
His legs finally felt empty though. Ranboo smiled down at his work in satisfaction. He had carved out the eyes completely, following the lines they made.
Bad Friend
It was still there, just in red, but that’s okay, I mean it was true. He was a bad friend. Fresh tears ran down his face. Why was he crying about the truth? He laid down on the floor. Did the obsidian always cry this much? Did it always cry red? He’d have to clean that up later. Don’t want Dream yelling at him for making a mess. Speaking of Dream, where was he? Didn’t he say he was going to come by? He might as well just close his eyes and take a quick nap before Dream got here. Thankfully he didn’t feel cold anymore, he didn’t feel anything, really. At least the bugs were gone.
Ranboo closed his eyes. Dream will just wake him up when he gets there.
He laid there for a while, mind peacefully blank for once. Until that voice, the one voice he could remember, interrupted his sleep.
“Dream?” Ranboo tried to say, but his mouth wouldn’t move. He heard Dream laugh, a hollow and sickening sound.
You thought you could save your friends? You can’t even save yourself.