Work Text:
Everything was dull.
Perhaps dull wasn’t the right word to describe it. Rather, everything seemed to blur at the edges and there was a faint buzz in the air. His vision was out of focus and something underneath his skin tingled. Everything was too loud, too bright, too quiet, too flashy, just too much. But it was also nothing at the same time. Maybe that’s the right word.
Ranboo was nothing.
No, that still didn’t feel right. After all, he still knew he was something. There was physical evidence right there. Wasn’t there? He could vaguely see his hands, could almost feel the cool wind of the snow biome on his skin. He was…real. Right? Something at the back of his mind was screaming at him, telling him that’s exactly how Dream wants him. Dream? Where did Dream come from? He hadn’t thought about Dream in...a while. He wasn’t sure of exactly how long it had been, but it must have been a while. Surely it was a while ago. It must have been. He unconsciously curled into himself, trying to stop the buzzing under his skin.
He was real. He had to be. The buzzing under his skin grew and the white noise in his head only got louder. He was real. He could see the sugarcane farm working away, the villagers mingling amongst themselves, the open door to his vault, the “storage room”, and the sheets he had thrown off the bed in panic. His mind raced and the buzzing under his skin continued.
It was too much.
Suddenly it wasn’t dull anymore. His vision was still out of focus and he was vaguely aware he was hyperventilating. At least, he thinks. He isn’t all too sure anymore. He’s not sure of anything anymore, really. But he needed to move, with a capital M, or he wasn’t sure what would happen. It felt like his entire body was fidgeting. The buzzing got too much. He started tapping out patterns with his fingers, needing some sort of stimulation. Disconnectedly, he realized that he was making some sort of noise. He wasn’t really sure what. Probably quickly opening and closing his mouth, he heard Phil refer to it as “pop cat” but he wasn’t really sure what that meant. He tried to stretch his limbs to their max capacity as he could, while still staying in his corner. He didn’t think he could get up if he tried.
He was cold.
It was so cold outside. Ranboo should have expected it, living in not only one, but two snow biomes, but he was always cold. He was just so cold. As the feeling slowly returned to his limbs, he shivered. Once because of the cold, but again because of the stimulation it brought. He’s real. He’s safe. He’s here. He could hear Enderchest purring at his side, the villagers talking, the redstone powering his farm humming, and Phil’s voice being carried by the wind. He was still popping his mouth, tapping his fingers, shaking his head, whatever he could to get the buzzing under his skin to go away. It had already subsided quite a bit, but what if it came back.
Later, he would call Tubbo, go mining, visit Michael, trade with the villagers, whatever he could to push the episode to the back of his mind. He didn’t want...whatever these episodes are to be able to be used against him, and he didn’t really want to remember it in the first place. He made sure to not write anything about this down in his memory book. Just to be safe.