Latest Posts by dulcamaraze - Page 4

new invention

How do you guys interpret cdreams design?

I've been going through major artblock and I thought why not draw the man haunting my psyche for the past months'

Problem is idk how I should draw him, so I'm asking you.

The only idea I have on him is that he's definitely not older than like 24-25 so don't expect him to look old.

I'll take any idea no judgement here!!

Also pose ideas please because artblock hitting HARD HARD

never look your doppelganger in the eyes

(manhunt!dream and c!dream meet; gnf ver; sap ver)

the next chapter of 'the shape that i'm in now' is finally out!

Given that the “If YouTubers Were Honest” video seems to be the breaking point talked about by both Dream in his stream and Tommy in his recent podcast, I kinda wanna talk about it a little more for a second.

(note: I haven’t seen the podcast because I refuse to pay and missed my opportunity when it was on YouTube but here are a couple summaries/transcripts of both it and Dream’s stream from two different pastebins).

First off, personally, I don’t even find the video funny. (I mean the best part is arguably the Philza rap, but anyways.) Clearly, Dream was massively hurt by it, as he says in his stream and as evident by the scathing text messages he evidently sent to Tommy afterwards. But I don’t think it’s hard to see why he’d be hurt. It’s already a painful situation, he’s already under fire from fans and then this just makes it worse. Dream and his family are currently dealing with doxing and scary things, meanwhile Tommy thinks it’s a good idea to make a video joking about it? wtf. That’s messed up any way you spin it in my mind. You can say the qsmp fans were the people coming after Dream but we know this isn’t true, you can say the video didn’t make that big of a difference but has 2.2 millions views so I hardly think so. If we know anything about the internet it’s that often humor goes over peoples head.

The biggest argument made by Tommy that is also mentioned by Tubbo recently, is that the video is satire, and a joke so it was supposed to be funny and not taken seriously. But here’s the thing, satire is based on truth. It’s using irony, sarcasm, exaggeration of truths widely known in a humorous way to humiliate someone or a group of people, often to point out a flaw or corruption and such. One of the most famous satires is A Modest Proposal by Jonathan Smith which suggests that in order to solve the problems of poverty in Ireland the poor should butcher their children and sell them for food for the rich. This is ridiculous, but also based in truth right? Ireland was actually dealing with poverty and starvation as a result of over population so why not eat the children. Technically, as ridiculous as it is, it is still based on truth even if an extremely over the top answer crazy reasoning. But technically speaking, it would solve the issues that exist. That’s part of why it works to make fun of the corruption and poor logic of the elite and politicians, as well as their callousness toward the suffering people of the lower class. Satire is the extension of irony and irony is based off of the truth. Dramatic irony is when the audience knows something the character does not which makes what the character does problematic often in a funny or tragic way. If you’ve seen Wicked then a foreshadowing dramatic irony in the song “The Wizard and I” is about how ‘there will be a day where all of Oz celebrates her and she’ll be so happy she can melt’, which the audience knows is pretty true from The Wizard of Oz, only her melting is her death and all of Oz celebrates that. It’s truth, that’s what makes it funny or tragic and satire is just the extreme extension of that.

What Tommy did, was not the truth. He lied, something Dream specifically points out as a main problem he had with the video. Tommy didn’t do satire, he wasn’t highlighting a specific flaw in Dream and Quackity or irony in the situation, he just painted a narrative that wasn’t true and used that to make fun of Dream. That’s the problem with it, that’s why it’s hurtful and not funny (in my opinion). It’s missing the satirical elements of irony and sarcasm that come from being clever with the truth. And that’s why Dream was hurt by it because Tommy made a video lying about a situation where people were already rallying against him, to an audience who already hates him. Tommy just straight up made fun of Dream for laughs in one of the lowest points in Dream’s life.

Even further, what’s also flawed with the argument that it was just a joke is what Tommy says in the podcast

“He didn’t expect Dream to snap at him over the “If YouTubers Were Honest” video. He used that video to test Dream because he had many friends telling him that Dream’s a bad person but Tommy told them no and didn’t believe them. After he posted the video, Dream sent him a very long angry message that was full of horrible words, which made Tommy realize Dream’s a bad guy.”

Tommy didn’t expect Dream to snap? But also did it as a test? Seriously?! Oh let me see how far I can make fun of Dream until he snaps at me and when he does this confirms he’s a bad guy… it’s just a joke my ass, you didn’t just make a video for laughs, you made in your own words to test Dream and your friendship, furthermore to test how far you could push him until he snaps (<- huh wouldn’t you know, isn’t that a familiar idea…). During a time when you know his mental health is suffering and he and his family are being actively doxxed. That’s just insane. That’s like… like… it’s so wild I’m struggling for an analogy… it’s like kicking a starving animal to test how dangerous it is and then after it finally bites you, labeling it a danger society…

In summary, Tommy didn’t make a satirical video joking about Dream, he performed a humiliating skit about Dream, making fun of him. In order to test if Dream would snap at him and then labels Dream a bad guy when he does…

YIPEEEE

new hh au fic chapter should be out tomorrow! <3 <3 i just have a few more things i need to fix!

Karma Karma Special Chapter

Drawn 10 years after Tanaka Mai's initial 3-shot in 2014! In her words, it "can be read on its own, but Yohaji fans might have a whole other perspective on it...!" 🤭

(Also on mangadex)

Cooking for two, three (or even four?)

Characters: Dream, Technoblade, Echo(oc)

Words: 2.8k (one-shot)

Warnings: short panic attack, unplanned pregnancy, very small references to past abuse

done for @sixteenth-day-event february prompts!

A good amount of years after Technoblade broke Dream out of prison, Dream attempts to make a cute valentine's breakfast for his partner. A weird familiar morning sickness interrupts his plans.

Dream wakes up first. It's not really established, or what Technoblade would prefer, but it's just how it turns out. Techno really doesn't get a say in it. Dream's always been that way, last to go to bed, first to get up, noone really knows how long he actually sleeps, or if he does at all. Rarely, Techno gets to trap him in a hug and keep him restrained to make sure he'd at least rest during the night hours, but even then he's never quite sure that Dream settles down enough to sleep. It's the best compromise they'll be getting, however. So he doesn't grumble about it too much, whenever he wakes up in bed, alone. (or with Echo, close to his side!)

 Dream also isn't used to cooking. Simple joys aren't something he used to indulge in and even now, he'd usually say they're far beneath him. Even having lived with Techno for so long and actually beginning to enjoy cooking, it's difficult to allow himself such a simple joy. But it's valentine's day, and he'd feel worse if he didn't cook a little something. The first thing he learns about cooking for two is that you always have to not only think about yourself. Dream isn't used to that. Whenever he'd provide the bare minimum of nutrients to himself, he had only himself to think about. But when he's standing in Technos kitchen he's not just cooking for himself: he'd feel bad if he did, because he's supposed to be sharing. (besides, he's using the excuse that this is for valentine's.)

 Another thing Dream isn't used to. At first, Techno would cook and he's actually quite skilled at taking into account everyone who would be receiving the meal, due to Philza, it's not new that he'd be cooking for two, but Dream has learnt that the Angel of Death isn't actually the pickiest eater; yet Dream would probably find it easier to list all of the things he wouldn't eat, than the ones he would.

With the addition of Echo, finding one meal that would suit all became basically impossible. Because, somehow, Echo manages to be just as bad with her eating habits as Dream. It's at least one thing she happened to get from him, considering her little face was growing to resemble her other parent just a bit more than Dream would've liked. (when he sleeps with Techno and her, he can even pretend she might be Techno's.)

 He stares at the cooking book next to him. His vision is still so screwed that he has to hold it up to his face to properly read the small print, but he's making an effort, and Techno keeps telling him that's what counts. A lot of cooking utensils have tiny prints, like the measuring cup. Techno admitted that even he can't read most of that, he just eyeballs and bullshits it, and Dream appreciates the honesty. Cooking doesn't need to be perfect. 

 Right. Breakfast. Technically he doesn't have to do this, but if he's already up, and he's already trying to keep himself alive, he might as well try to be a helpful member of the house and feed everyone else in it, too. What he's learned that it's almost impossible to find one meal all three of them will eat. At this point, he's convinced it might actually be impossible. Making two meals isn't really an issue, but making the effort to think that someone might need a different meal is.

Because, again, he's a little selfish.

 Eyeballing ingredients has become something he's actually decent at. Who knew Technoblade had advice that was actually useful? He smiles a small smile, throwing together whatever the cookbook and his knowledge of his-- boyfriend? Partner? Roommate? He's not sure they've actually had a conversation on the terminology they're going to use- but he's using his knowledge of Technoblade and his child to conjure up something he hopes will be satisfying. Techno will be likely to eat it however bad it is and still lie to his face. (he'd admit later that it kind of sucked, whatever.) 

It's small, it's simple, he hopes it's what it means to heal.

With the meals set up, he hesitantly bites the inside of his cheek. Eating will forever be an issue, he fears. He feels weirdly sick, actually, but he chalks it up to the usual sickness he felt before eating. (it feels weird, familiar, though.)

___

He jumps when the door to the kitchen opens and a tired Technoblade walks through. Dream stares at him, but Techno doesn't look back at him for a hot second, yawning, just trotting over to the hot cup of tea his boyfriend had set up for him.

The smaller hybrid chuckles. Looks like someone is still too tired to acknowledge his existence. "Good morning to you, too," he says, tapping the table with his hand.

 He swallows down the morning sickness and the tremor in his hands. It's okay. He's not sure what's wrong. But whatever it is, he's going to toughen it out and ignore it as usual. One day Techno will smack him up the head for hiding his issues, but today won't be the day. (or he'll notice anyways, as usual, and he'll get a lecture either way.)

 For now, he seems in the clear. Someone's too busy recovering from the fact that it's morning. Techno's cute like that, when he'd just woken up.

"Morning," Techno returns, dropping into his chair at the table. He glances over at the cute meals on the table, and the little candle Dream'd set, and are those- flowers? An eyebrow raises, while he lowers his mug. "Alright, what did you do this time?"

Offended, Dream crosses his arms. "W-what's that supposed to mean?!"

"You know, looks like you're apologizing for something," Techno responds and smiles smugly, watching Dream stumble over his words and turn red. Techno isn't even correct, but he's so baffled he can't help his surprise and reaction. "I--??? What??? Techno, it's-" He pauses. He's not sure Technoblade knows it's valentine's day. Do piglins do valentine's day? Maybe he should've asked Philza first, now that he's at it. But it's kind of too late, his boyfriend is already in front of him, thinking he's apologizing for something. Maybe he's apologizing for the weird ass headache and stomachache he's got, but that's not really something to ever apologize for, right? He isn't too sure, ever. This is almost weird now.

 He clears his throat, walks past Techno, putting a hand on his shoulder momentarily, as he does. "No, I mean, I was just-" Chewing the inside of his cheek, his feet shift, his ears pin to the back of his head. He feels really awkward now. An anxious finger scratches at his weirdly growing horns, and he already dreads having to trim them again, just hoping they'll grow a better direction next time. "Valentine's day, Techno. I thought-" It's not like he did anything super special now, actually. Maybe he could've just pretended he felt like doing a little extra to the breakfast, but now he's already dropped the bag. There's a short pause, then a snort. "Oh," Techno laughs. "Right." 

Looks like he remembered something, his eyes widening. "Oh," he repeats. "What?" Dream blinks, confused, Techno's shock at least pulling him out of his embarrassment and shame that he was possibly celebrating a holiday Technoblade didn't even seem to think about enough that it's today.

Maybe that means Techno also had something planned? He tries to ignore the growing headache. Okay, he swears something is wrong. Is he on his period or something?? Those have been coming and going irregularly since he's been eating more again.

 He sees Techno move his lips and say something, but he isn't listening. Rubs his forehead, groans, shakes his head. "Wait, wait a moment." Lifting a hand, the cold metal of his finger prosthetics poking into his skin a bit too strongly. "Okay. What did you say? I didn't- sorry, I've got a really weird headache."

"You good?"

"C'mon Tech, it's nothing. Just- I dunno, hormones or whatever."

The Piglin hybrid raises an eyebrow and Dream shakes his head. "Dear god, no. No, I don't- I haven't checked, but I mean, I-" Shouldn't be his period. He isn't bleeding, right? The thought of that feels uncomfortable, but usually he's pretty good at telling- That really shouldn't be the case.

Techno shrugs it off. He's not super sure what Dream thought he was thinking of, but it probably isn't what he thought. "Bruh. I mean. I was saying, Valentine's today??" Dream blinks. "Yeah, I think so?"

"Ah. I. Uh. Forgot. This is really awkward, Dream. I've gotta say. This is really awkward of me." Now he's the one to look all embarrassed.

There's a giggle. And another. Well that lifts Dream's mood. At the very least, he isn't going to have to explain the concept. Remembering Techno's age, he'd consider it a little weird if it's something he hasn't come across at all. But it makes sense that it'd be a holiday he'd forget, or not think about enough. (he doesn't think they've celebrated it the past years either, but it's all a big blur.) 

"No, I- I don't mind. I mean, I didn't do anything special either." 

"You set up breakfast and the table!" Techno rebukes, frowning slightly.

"I do that-- from time to time!," Dream stems his hands on his hips, a little offended that Techno is acting like it's so rare that he cooks food. "That's not a big accomplishment!"

"Oh no. How am I going to face Philza and tell him I forgot it's Valentine's day? This is terrible. He's going to tell me I'm an awful boyfriend." Okay, now he's just being dramatic. Dream pouts, lightly punches Technos shoulder, then trots over to his own chair. (he momentarily considers waking Echo, but he supposes she'll get up eventually on her own. Or through their banter.)

"And now I'm being hit as well! Deserved, only the worst treatment for me today."

"Oh my God, Technoblade. You're so dramatic." He snorts, and finally Techno can't really stop his own laughing anymore, either. "C'mon. You gotta be mad at me at least a little," he reiterates, tilting his head at Dream.

"No??? It's a silly holiday." 

___

Now he's turning red again, but for other reasons. He didn't know he could be so in love with someone's laugh. It's cute, it's big and hearty and leaves little room for him to feel any malice towards him for forgetting it's Valentine's day. (again, it's not like he did anything super special, either.)

"It was important enough that you made breakfast for it!" Techno gestures at the meals, but again, those aren't anything special. "I probably would've cooked either way!!" Dream bickers, crossing his arms.

"Oh, bruh. Did you even sleep tonight?"

"---no." He answers, voice tiny and small, because he's a little embarrassed of the fact that he didn't. He shouldn't be, it's nothing new, or surprising and Technoblade only rolls his eyes, but c'mon. "A-and if I did I probably would've forgotten and not done anything either!"

"Bruh."

"Shut up, Techno." Dream shakes his head, then shoves his plate towards him. "Eat, and shut up."

"Yes, mom."

"I'm not your-- oh my god. Whatever. I'm breaking up with you."

"You wouldn't do that to me," Techno says, regardless of the fact that his mouth was already full. "Thank you."

Dream pouts. Rolls his eyes. "Sure, whatever, you're so stupid."

"You love me that way."

 He does, but he's still upset. At least it's distracting him from his headache. But he still feels like throwing up. It's only been a few years since he'd been pregnant with Echo, but he was going through so many things at that time, that he's not really sure what was a pregnancy symptom and what was a symptom of something else.

Oh God, does he think he's pregnant? There's no way. Okay, there is a way, but- He pauses, just kinda, staring off into nothing. If he's pregnant- He's only been with Techno recently. And it's definitely not like they've been taking into account that there would be a possibility he'd get pregnant. It's like he's learnt nothing.

Technoblade swallows his food before he speaks again. "Uhhh, Dream? You good?"

"I. Uh-" He lifts a hand to his mouth, then rushes over to the sink to throw up. Great, amazing, lovely. Dream retches, doesn't even notice that Techno got up until he's helping him hold his hair back. "Let it out. You eat something wrong? Did I say something wrong?" 

Dream only manages to shake his head, throwing up whatever's left in his already empty stomach.

 "I'm fine-," he heaves, taking a deep breath. Okay, in and out. In and out. You're good. You're- good. Oh God, wait. The realization is finally sinking in more. "No, I'm, I, I think I- fuck, Techno, do you think I could be- oh God, I mean, do you-" He gestures all over the place, then sinks onto his knees, leaning his head against the cupboard. Techno keeps running his fingers through his hair, now that he's not throwing up anymore, but it's still a comforting gesture. He's sat down next to him. "Take your time. No rush," Techno muses, and Dream melts. Oh, he's so glad he hasn't seen Sam's face in forever. Closing his eyes almost makes him capable of forgetting his face. 

"Dream?" Oh, that's a voice he didn't need to hear now. "Echo, baby-," Dream starts, but his voice cracks. He grimaces awkwardly, doesn't look at the very small 4 year-old standing in the doorway. She's so tiny still, such a fragile thing. He doesn't look. If he sees her face he might throw up again. It feels like a really mean thought, but it's true. It's very mean. He hates that thought. He wants to say more, but he's not sure how it's coming across that he already won't look at her. He notices Techno moving away from him and he hears a few big footsteps, he thinks he hears Techno say something, but while he's trying to get through his small panic attack, it's a little difficult to comprehend anything either of them say to each other. 

His head is pounding. Again, he presses his fingers into his forehead, and the cold prosthetics both help and don't help. It's okay. It's okay. He feels dread at the back of his gut. He doesn't notice when Technoblade is in front of him again, and the child seems to be gone. Takes a shaky breath, then falls towards him, letting him wrap him in a hug. "Where's Echo?," he whispers against Techno's chest, letting him play with his hair calmly.

Techno seems to pause, just kind of cradling him to his chest. "I gave her her breakfast and told her to eat in bed. I'd get her when we're done. Just told her you're feeling sick." That's fine. That's fine, he supposes. He groans. "Techno, do you think I-- uh."

"You, what?"

"What if I'm. Y'know." He gestures, but by the look on Techno's face now that he's opened his eyes again, nope, Techno doesn't have any idea. "Oh my God. Techno. What if I'm pregnant?"

That definitely gets Techno wide-eyed. "Oh." That's a realization he must've not considered before. Because now he's just staring at him like he told him Santa is actually real. Then it fades into worry again. Concern? Weird excitement? Everything at once? Dream can't really pinpoint it and he's not sure he wants to. (besides the sickness, he's not actually super sure how he feels about this.) Pregnancy isn't something he ever thought to have willingly, and he's not so sure this is willingly. He definitely had Sex with Techno willingly, but dear God.

"Wait. Are you sure???" 

"No- I mean, I dunno???" It would explain his sickness. And his headache. And his hormones being all over the place the past few days, without being on his period. There's- no way, though, right? "Techno, what the fuck do I do?"

 "Dream-" Pinpointing the exact emotion on Technoblade's face is surprisingly difficult. Looks like he's going through it more than Dream is. It actually makes him laugh. "Oh my God, Techno." He stops trying to look for something on his boyfriends face, falling against him again. "Oh my God," he keeps laughing, even though he's not sure if he should laugh or cry. "Are you laughing, or crying?" Techno asks, not sure which one he should be doing.

"Definitely both," Dream says, runs a hand through his hair in sheer disbelief. "I, I mean, I could be wrong. Echo's pregnancy was- really weird-" 

"Phil's going to kill us, bro."

"I tell you I might be pregnant because of you and you're calling me 'bro'???"

___

"Well, now I'm definitely a terrible boyfriend for not thinking of valentine's day."

The way he says that makes Dream put at least half of his actual strength into the punch he delivers against his chest. "Oof. That really hurt, Dream."

"Good. Fuck you."

i actually don't know what possessed me to do this all in on sitting . drawn on mspaint

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Dream breaks Technoblade's trust in prison

A lesson on trust.

Characters: Dream, Technoblade

Words: 5.2k (one-shot)

Warnings: panic attacks, canon typical violence. nothing big.

During Technoblades stay in the prison, Dream gets a little desperate to prove that he is not to be trusted.

Being with Technoblade has lifted Dream’s spirits. It's lifted them a bit much for his taste, honestly. Considering everything the other has done has been quite simple: Exist, take up already sparse food, talk far too much bullshit and annoy the hell out of him. He's not a fan of how easily the piglin hybrid can read him.

Technoblade’s involvement itself is calculated: it's within the plan, it's accounted for. He hasn't accounted for the way he'd make him smile, and distract him from the hell that is the prison.

That shouldn't be a problem in and of itself, Dream measures. He can stay focused regardless.

He doesn't know if the company is within the plan. Of course, Technoblade would've been involved eventually: For the exchange of a favor. But he's been here for a few weeks now. At least, that's what Dream presumes from what little sense of time he's gotten left. He couldn't know for sure and the realization that he couldn't tell leaves his tail swaying nervously. It's somehow easier to sit with your thoughts on your own. Correction: it's easier to ignore them on your own. It's easier to dissociate when someone isn't constantly chatting or snoring your ear off.

Dream doesn't sleep. Technoblade does it far too much. He guesses it's how the other planned on passing the time, and it's not really a bad bet. It's not like there is much else to do. It gives Dream something to do: Study everything there is about Technoblade. Not really intentionally, of course. He's not intending to stare, but could you blame him, when he's the only positive interaction he's had in so long?

The piglin hybrid sleeps messily. Loudly . He eats a lot, and he knows just how to get on his nerves. Though, he guesses he was already well aware of the last two. They've shared a few meals and more arguments.

Dream's passed out only very few times in the time Technoblade has been here, to the point the latter is unsure he's seen it at all. He prefers it that way.

"What are you, anyways?" Rings the question and Dream knows the other didn't miss the way he flinches at the sudden sound. "W-what's that supposed to mean." He says it like a dismissive statement, much less like a question. It's clear he understood exactly what Technoblade means, but doesn't intend to respond unless further clarified. He knows he doesn't pry. "Y'know." Pink hair messily falls over his shoulder. He undid the braid a while ago, and redid it at least 20 times since then.

Dream does know. The pen slips out of his fingers and he curses under his breath as it draws a messy line across the paper, him desperately reaching for it not helping.

"I don't," he lies, "you're distracting me."

Technoblade raises an eyebrow, toys with a potato that he's sure is going to start growing mold within the next 24 hours. "Species-wise, of course." While Dream's gotten a very good look of the other, the piglin hybrid has been kept very.. in the dark, to say the least. Dream makes sure to hide his face, and Techno hasn't attempted to catch a glance whenever he was distracted enough. He'd feel like he's intruding, if he did. Surely there's a reason he always wore that mask, after all. It's rude, he's concluded. "You haven't really let me catch a glance."

"What's it matter to you?" He mumbles, retrieving the pen and annoyedly smudging at the ink that's now splotched all over the paper. Smudging it more isn't really helping, weirdly enough.

"It's something to talk about, Dream." 

"I don't feel like talking."

"I know. You never do. It's kinda your thing." He snorts.

"That's-- that's not true. You know that's not true. I just- You already made me ruin this whole page."

"Put that thing down for 5 minutes, Dream. I'm pretty sure we've got plenty of time for you to finish that."

It looks like he's right, but somehow, sometimes Dream fears, he might blink, and Technoblade might disappear into thin air. 

"Fine." Dream hisses through gritted teeth, closing the book to set it aside. He leaves the pen amidst the pages to keep note of where he was. "Your tail reminds me of Ranboo’s." Techno remarks, and as if on command, it whips against cold obsidian and then curls up to hide behind his back. "What- are you just going to- analyze things about me?"

"Well, you're not telling me."

"That's still, like, weird." Dream argues, shaking his head. Something about it makes him really uncomfortable. Something about it is something he didn't account for and it makes him nervous.

"Man, you've been eyeing me up and down the entire time and I can't even catch a quick glance." He snickers at the immediate physical rise he gets out of Dream. 

" WHAT?? " Oh, that blush is obvious. "I've- You're an idiot, I've literally-" Dream stumbles over his words, messy locks not disguising enough of his face to hide his expression. 

"You're- You're stupid. You're just- you're just saying things. That's not even true!" 

"I don't know bro, for an innocent man you're getting real defensive."

"I'm not-- That's not-- I literally have not been doing that." Defeatedly, Dream taps his foot against the obsidian, knees dragged to his chest.

"Uh-huh." Technoblade nods, beginning to redo his braid for the third time that day. 

"Fuck yourself, seriously, Techno. I don't even know where- where you got that from."

"Maybe from the guy who's been eyeing me up and down."

" I HAVE NOT??? " (Dream’s heart beats in his ears and it tastes bitter and it's uncalculated and it makes no sense and he has to remind himself to breathe.) And it beats. And it beats. And it beats.

"So, what are you?"

"You're not going to let me live that down, are you?" Dream responds, annoyed. "I'm curious and bored." Technoblade answers, too honestly. Too honestly for Dream’s taste. Dream hasn't planned for this. Dream doesn't like the way he sees through him. "The answer- the answer is going to disappoint you, then." He gnaws on his lip for a moment. "Because I don't- I don't actually know ."

Techno raises an eyebrow curiously. He snorts. "You seriously don't, huh?"

"Yeah- uh- why the hell- why would I lie about that?"

"Uh, I mean, you've got the same tail as Ranboo." Techno deduces. "And he's an Enderman. I think?" He shakes his head. "But you're also not really letting me see anything else."

"You're being weird." Dream pushes, hiding his face in his knees.

"Not any weirder than you."

"Can I see your face?" Techno asks, and is surprised by his own question.

"What???" Dream returns, almost instinctively letting more hair fall into his face. 

"Your face." He presses, shifting with his coat. "I wanna see your face. It's been so long since I last did."

"Why?"

"Curiosity." Technoblade shrugs, feigning disinterest. Maybe he's just curious. Maybe there's more to it. Dream hates the way he can't tell and he hates the way it makes his heart beat and he hates the way he squirms uncomfortably and he hates the way the proposed intimacy makes him feel and he hates it.

Dream catches his heart in his throat and chokes it with both of his hands.

"No." He responds, met by a dejected, "awwwh", from the piglin hybrid. "Just a quick glance."

"No." He repeats, with more tone in his voice.

"Just a quick one."

"I said no." Dream cringes, crossing his arms. "It's not like I've never seen it before." Techno shrugs.

"Be satisfied with that, then."

"What's the big deal?"

"We're not friends, Techno." His tone of voice seems insincere, but he wants it to be true. They aren't friends. This is purely transactional. Technoblade is here to rescue him on account of a favor. Something is going wrong with whatever he's got planned and now he's trapped here for the time being. It doesn't mean anything. 

"Ow." Technoblade shuffles, moves as if something stabbed him. It's dramatics, Dream reminds himself. He's being dramatic. "First off, that hurts." It doesn't, Dream reminds himself. It's theatrics. It's to pass the time, it's to make him feel secure, it's to fool him, it's to- he doesn't know. Make him forget the plan?

"Second off, it's rude. I thought we've been having a real bonding moment here." Technoblade doesn't mean that, Dream reminds himself. "Well- boohoo." He fiddles with his fingers, with the book in his hands. "We're not friends." He has to emphasize that. (lest he forgets. lest he forgets that that too, is part of the plan.)

"I thought we were." Techno reiterates. "I mean, you've been watching me sleep. Would be real weird if we weren't friends."

"Oh my God, Technoblade. I have not-" He cuts himself off, rolling his eyes. He gives up. It's obvious he's just trying to get a rise out of him. He doesn't understand the point. It's distracting. It's going off the plan. It defies everything Dream did this for. He feels dizzy.

"C'mon Dream, I know you're still grumpy I keep calling you homeless, but I'd say we're friends."

"I'm not- I'm not homeless." (you're the one who kept not believing me I've got a big house filled with Redstone.) The thought makes him laugh bitterly.

Techno raises an eyebrow at the clear silent conversation Dream just had in his head. Some voices tell him something, but they sound drowned. The lack of food is beginning to mess with him bad, Techno eats a lot normally, so while he's not opposed to the potato diet itself, he's really been trying to cut down. If not only to not take away the little food Dream has.

Techno really doesn't like the way Sam clearly doesn't mind feeding him as much - considering he literally even gave him cooked potatoes when he asked for it. (it's all to starve Dream.)

"I know, I know. We're roommates right now, remember?" He snorts, which leads into an amused grunt, then translates into him holding out a baked potato in Dreams direction. "You want some?"

"... What."

"It's baked. Should be better than uh, y’know, the ones you've been chowing down." He gestures at Dream’s stack, which is honestly beginning to show mold.

"Why- how is it- where did you-" Dream stumbles and he looks so extremely bewildered Techno can't help but sneak a little fond smile. (Dream doesn't recognize it as such. His gasping heart categorizes it as him making fun of him.)

"I asked and Sam gave them to me. Under the condition I don't give you any."

Dream frowns. Deeply. He shakes his head. "Under the condition you don't give me any." He repeats, in a tone that makes Techno sick. Wipes the smile off his face and replaces it with a frown. "Hey man, it's not like Sam's gonna know."

"He'll know ." Dream reiterates, shaking his head. He feels sick. Sick. Sick. Resisting everything in himself to not knock it out of Techno’s hand.

"I mean, I'm not telling him. Are you?"

"If- if he asks , if I-if." He stutters over his words, he despises the frown on Techno’s lips. He's not disobeying Sam for some stupid- some potatoes. He could handle himself. The clear favoritism gets to his head, and he needs to turn away so he doesn't just grab the potato and throw it into the lava. Or better yet, he's throwing himself in it next.

Techno sighs. "Alright, man. Just thought I'd offer." He rolls his shoulders, then wordlessly eats it. He's honestly worried Dream might just starve to death one of these days. He certainly doesn't look good.

Dream’s heart beats in his ears. He wishes he could bang his head against the wall until he made a big enough hole for it to escape. Wishes he could reach through his own mouth and pull it up by its bits and pieces and squeeze it until there is finally no feeling left.

In the end he does none of that. In the end he frowns at Techno and doesn't say anything else. In the end he reaches his hands into his hair and tugs until he feels a few strands coming loose. 

"You're- driving me crazy." He hisses. And it's unreasonable. And it's a weird mood swing from the Dream who was just confused then horrified and is now- maybe jealous isn't the right word, but he doesn't find any better ones to describe what he is feeling. Speaking of feeling, he hates the way his heart jumps in his mouth when Techno looks at him with that stupid snort. That stupid big nose ring, and those stupid big ears, and those stupid big tusks that hang upwards out of his mouth and-

Breathe. Breathe. "Man, I'm just being friendly." Techno says and it snaps a cord. "You're not! Friendly. You're A- annoying , you're, you're taking up already sparse food, you're, you're clearly being favorited by- mi- by the wa- by Sam -" He tugs and he tugs and he tugs and maybe this way he can get rid of this stupid long hair. "All this has achieved is- you're just stuck here now, too . Why the hell didn't you realize it was a trap? I didn't want you to get involved! You have- you- aaaaah!" He groans, frustrated, tired, exhausted, hungry, and for the first time in the while he's been stuck here he seriously wishes he had died already.

It's stupid. It's such a stupid thing to want to give up over. (was any of it even worth it? was any of it even worth it? was any of it even worth it? was any of it even worth it.) He thinks he hears Techno say something but it's dampened by the dread that's surrounding him. Maybe he's having a panic attack. Maybe he's having two. Maybe three. four five six seven eight-- he's been doing so well holding himself together but now he's crashing he's falling apart he's grasping at the pieces of a knocked over 3D puzzle and it does little to put it back together.

He's been doing so well smiling and talking with Technoblade whenever Quackity wasn't here he's been doing so well and he's been doing too well and it's exactly why he's tripping all over himself and falling and falling and falling --

It's a harrowing realization. That scaling any mountain is going to involve so much tripping and falling in the future. And it's more harrowing to him that he's decided to do it all alone. It's better that way, he tells himself, but for a moment, Dream would rather be dead than alone.

Maybe, if he gave up, while Technoblade, while Quackity- while it's- while he's not- while- while there's someone there- while he's not alone- while- if he gave up now, at least someone would be by his side while he did-

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. In, and out, and Dream hears a voice, guiding him, and he's breathing.

Breathe. Breathe. He closes his eyes. It's dark, and it's orange from the light of the lava and he's just barely catching himself. 

When he opens his eyes again, he can breathe again. He sees pink strands and his first instinct is to--

He reaches out and tugs on Technoblade’s already messy enough braid. "Ow! Is that the thanks I get????? Ow- ow- Dream that hurts-" And he tugs and he tugs and he tugs and it's enough Technoblade has to stop awkwardly hovering his big hands around Dream's and instead grab onto them, halting the other’s out-of-nowhere violence. " Good ." Dream hisses, and it's venomous, it's almost- uncharacteristic. Techno pulls his eyebrows together and frowns. "You good? You had a little- panic attack there. And now you're attacking me! Scandalous."

Momentarily, Dream is taken aback by the piglin hybrid’s antics. Only momentarily, because as soon as he manages to wipe the way his expression cringes at his own actions off his face, he's back to pulling his hands out of Technoblade’s, taking one, two, three, too many steps towards the lava and almost falling backwards into it. He stumbles, and has to catch himself on the side of the wall. The lava is sizzling so closely behind him he's unsure if some of his hair, or his clothes might already be catching fire. He nudges just a little bit away from it, although he really wishes he could just let himself fall backwards. 

He could, he reckons. No better time than now. No better time than when he's not alone with Sam and Quackity with the warden and sir with the violence and torture and-

His head spins. Technoblade says something again but hovers awkwardly out of his reach. Good. Good. This is better. That's how it's supposed to be. Transactional. As soon as they're out of here Technoblade will abandon him. That's how this was intended. He'll make himself heavy enough of a burden that even Techno will hesitate to dare put that strain on his back. That hesitation will be enough, he hopes. He is sure it will be enough. He closes his eyes, breathing. He should breathe, Technoblade is right. He opens his eyes again and his eyes search for Technoblade, who's looking at him with such a stupid expression of pity (and concern and worry and so many things Dream isn't sure he's identifying right and so many things that Dream hopes he is wrong about.).

Dream prays he is wrong about these things. Because God strike him down if he is right. God if he has to face that possibility.

He isn't sure how much time passes. He isn't sure how long they're just staring at each other. 

--

"You better now?", Technoblade says after a long silence, attempting to approach him. Very slowly. As if he's afraid Dream might just stumble backwards into the lava if he startles him like a scared deer. Bitterly, Dream laughs. "Yeah", he catches himself, "Sorry."

"Nah, it's okay. You have the strength of a toddler."

" WHAT??? " That gets to Dream’s head worse than Technoblade probably intends it to, when Dream stumbles over himself and almost catches fire on the lava. Techno snorts, lifting a hand to move it in a manner that's supposed to make him calm down but is only irritating him more. "You're- you're fucking insufferable, Technoblade ." Dream draws a breath through barely parted lips and for a moment he wants to cry. 

The piglin sighs. "You know, I've been really patient, but you're making me curious. What happened? Since when are you so-- dead set on pushing everyone away? I mean, I heard Punz betrayed you, which must've sucked- but, Dream, I clearly don't mean you any ha-"

"Fuck off, Technoblade."

"Eh?"

"Fuck off." He reiterates, and he is so, so close to ending it all he needs to remind himself that part of the plan is that he stays alive. Part of the plan is that his heart keeps beating. Maybe he can respawn at least though. It's bitter. He threw himself in that lava a lot when there was nothing to do and the pain of burning alive was, funnily enough, the only thing keeping him sane. "We're not friends. We're not roomies. We're not- You weren't supposed to be here. You're so fucking- stupid- walking into that obvious trap."

Technoblade's vision swims, before it refocuses on Dream and he raises an eyebrow. "Dream- You do know I knew that, right?"

"Right. Right. And that's why you haven't gotten out. That's why you're still stuck here with me annoying me and trying to get under my skin all the goddamn time-"

"Well, I mean, some things went wrong. I'll be out here in no time, though."

(I, I, I, I, I)

I, I, I, I, I

It echoes in Dream’s head. He stares. " We ?" He whispers, it's hopeful, it's meek, and it's such a sudden change from the way he was just yelling.

"Uh, yeah. We. You're getting out of here, Dream."

They exchange looks. Stares. He's too busy reading every pore on Technoblade’s face to be distracted by the fact that he's doing the same to him. He stares at Technoblade’s pink eyes as if they have the answer to every question he's ever had. He hears his heart beat again and has such a visceral reaction to it; he bites down on his lip, balling his fists.

"I don't believe that. I don't trust you for a second."

The piglin hybrid sighs, toying with his coat to his braid, undoing it, since Dream messed it up anyways. "Right. I'm really beginning to believe that." 

Dream thinks he hears sarcasm in that tone but he's not sure. He's not sure of any emotion he reads on Technoblade and it horrifies him. Quackity is so much easier to read: and Sam isn't too difficult to read too, he'd say. They're pretty similar, he'd concluded a while ago. 

Quackity wears his heart on his sleeve. Observing him is like you're reading a picture book. Whereas with Technoblade he isn't quite sure he's got a heart in the first place. He isn't sure what he thinks of that conclusion. He isn't sure it's logical. Maybe it makes no sense to interpret it that way, he can't justify dehumanizing Technoblade to himself, but neither can he the way he got addicted to burning in the lava.

"What exactly am I supposed to do to make you-- ' trust ' me?" The Blade speaks up and Dream continues watching him for another roughly 20 seconds, not breaking eye contact. He's finally noticed that he's also eyeing him over and it makes something akin to horror crawl down his back. It settles on his spine and whispers to him. He can't make out exactly what it's saying but he knows it's gripping at the edges of his heart. It's digging its nails in and the only reason it's yet to bleed is that they are still in. Like a stab wound, it'll bleed so much more once removed. But it's bleeding either way.

Either way leads to death.

"Want me to prove I trust you? Do a little trust-fall?"

Dream’s face cringes at the way Technoblade snorts. "I- what - no way- I don't trust you and even if you trusted me, there's no way I can- catch you- in my current state."

"I'm going to be honest, Dream, I don't think you would've been very capable of it previously, either."

"You're----- You're really trying to make me hate you." Dream mumbles, kicking the floor, in a similar fashion as to he would before, and Technoblade takes it as a positive sign. He smiles fondly and it irritates Dream to no end.

The piglin hybrid shrugs. "Eh, sure. I'm not sure I can convince you otherwise, anyways." 

Something stings but Dream can't identify it. Briefly, he wonders if the other feels something like that, too. Then he crosses that thought out, because he knows that the Blade doesn't own a heart that feels. 

His brain rationalizes the dehumanization in a desperate attempt to drown his own feelings. It's not rational and he knows this, but he's horrified that if he looks at Technoblade like he's a person for too long he might forget the plan.

He wants to choke himself out for going down this path alone. But it's the only way to keep them safe. (dehumanizing Technoblade isn't keeping him safe. it's the very thing that's ended him up in this position. the very reason he can't just sit in his cabin and rest. The very reason he's right here and associated with Dream is because they're the same, the same, the same .) 

Dream can't read Technoblade. But maybe he just doesn't want to. Maybe the other is written in a foreign language that Dream couldn't possibly have knowledge of in his young and naive years.

The admin sighs tiredly. 

"You can't. I don't trust you and it's not like you truly trust me either." Dream huffs a laugh. "You trust me to keep you alive. For my own gain." He gestures at the lava, then at Technoblade. "Since I'm not going anywhere without you. But maybe you will just leave without me."

Techno frowns. Even to Dream it's obvious this conversation is getting tiring. Maybe he's beginning to regret getting under his skin, maybe he's regretting constantly running his mouth, maybe he's considering just going to sleep for the rest of his stay here. Dream doesn't know because maybe after all this time, he's finally forgotten how to read. He isn't even sure he can read himself anymore. 

"I mean, yeah, maybe I will. You're not really making it enticing to take you along." Techno exhales heavily, running a hand through his hair. "I'd say you should know I wouldn't actually do any of that, but maybe I misread you."

None of that sounds like anything Technoblade would say. Good, Dream thinks, he's listening. He's not completely dense. He's not completely naive. Of course, the plan is still for the other to take him along. "W-well, you've got a favor to pay back. Technoblade pays back favors."

"Uh-huh."

"And that's all this is."

"Right."

Dream can't decode the bitter way Techno nods. He doesn't understand the way his throat slowly closes up and he feels like he's choking. He concludes it's been plugged by his heart again and he hates the very way the Blade puts even his organs in a disarray. It's irregular. Makes no sense.

"R-right." He repeats Technoblade’s word, glancing away. 

"Hey, you let me see your face."

"No I didn't."

"You did." 

"I didn't fucking allow you to." Dream crosses his arms, frowns. Techno shrugs, looking at Dream again. The other doesn't look away. "Yeah, but you're still letting me look."

It's not fair. It's not. It's not fair. He can't even rebuke that one. He's tired.

"You've got a lot of freckles." Techno muses, with such a stupid, stupid fond smile. (this isn't part of the plan. Isn't part of the plan.) "Your cheeks are- fuzzy." He snorts and Dream wants to deck him in the face. ( shut up. Shut up. Shut up .) "And your eyes rat you out."

Don't get him involved. Don't get him involved. Stick to the plan. Don't do that to him. Stick to the plan.

It's not worth it. If he changes the plan now- he can't. The plan has to be the way it is. Punz is bad enough. This is bad enough. Dream suddenly feels so powerless that it's crushing.

"And what stupid things do you think they're saying?"

"I don't know." Techno shrugs now, taking a step towards Dream. Cautiously, as if he fears he might startle him and send him into the lava. "Maybe they're desperate." He guesses, stops just out of Dream’s reach. Dream bites his lip bloody.

"Yeah. Desperate to get you to shut up. Get things under control and get us out of here." He grumbles, fists balling. (for a moment, he imagines himself reaching his hand into the lava, cupping it, and then throwing it at Technoblade. He wonders if his hand would last enough for that, or if the lava would burn through quicker. He wonders if that could kill him.)

He wonders how much of it would hit Techno, or if he'd dodge. If he'd call him insane, or if he'd be worried. If he'd be worried for his own safety, or Dream's, or both.

"I'm at it! I'm at it. Someone's really impatient." Techno lifts his hands defensively. "You're the one who designed this thing so- inescapable." Dream licks the blood off his lips, tail flicking behind him. "It'd kind of defeat the purpose if it wasn't." 

The piglin hybrid only nods. Dream only returns a nod. They're silent, observing each other as if they are reading a book.

Dream decides he needs to rip his pages out of Techno’s book. He takes a deep breath, looks directly at the other’s face. 

"Come over here." He croaks out, embarrassed, clears his throat after. "Come here." He repeats, clearer now.

For a moment, Dream hoped he'd see hesitation in Technos gaze. He sees something, Techno does need a second to listen, but he doesn't see hesitation. He doesn't know what he's seeing. (Worry? Care? Concern?) Concern, for his own or Dream’s or both of their safety.

Technoblade listens and everything in Dream’s body was hoping he wouldn't. He'd hoped he wouldn't. But now he's standing in front of him, left of him lava bubbles. It's hot and unbearable to him, but Dream knows it's like second nature to the piglin hybrid. 

"Do you trust me?" Dream asks, it's flat. The croak in his voice disappeared, it's just cold now. He can't read the expression on Technoblade’s face. He doesn't like the way he frowns. He doesn't like the way he has to break his neck to look him in the face when they are so close together. 

"What's this?"

"No, shut up, answer the question." Dream shakes his head when Techno tries to gain knowledge on his intent. That won't work. That won't work. He made a plan and he's sticking by it.

Techno sighs. Rolls his shoulders. Then nods. Smiles. "Yeah, well, I do."

(I do, I do, I do, I do, I do, I do. It repeats in Dream’s ears until it turns to venom until it takes over every part of his brain until he can't hear anything else until it tastes bitter and bile and he wishes he could throw up.)

Everything in Dream hoped he'd say no. Everything in Dream hoped he'd say no.

He doesn't breathe for a good minute. Then he holds out his hand. His hand, small, burned, injured. There's little cuts and scars everywhere. He still has all of his fingers, but he is afraid he won't soon enough. "Okay. If you take my hand and close your eyes, do you trust me to not hurt you?" He continues, and his heart deflates when Technoblade listens. He hoped he wouldn't.

He hoped he'd make a snarky comment and refuse. But he doesn't even give him a snarky comment. The piglin hybrid's hand almost completely engulfs his own and Dream feels so small and helpless and weak, all of a sudden. It's like Technoblade is unknowingly pulling the carpet out from under his feet. It's like the obsidian beneath him disappeared. (The hand-holding is weirdly comforting and suddenly Dream wants to abandon everything he thought of, everything he planned. if he could just fall forward and-)

He grips Technoblade’s hand. Harsh. He's not sure where he draws the strength from, considering he hasn't even eaten one potato today. And he isn't even sure he ate one yesterday. He squeezes it, and for a moment, it may come across comforting, or comfortable, or-

Then he violently tugs on the other’s hand. Then he draws both of them towards the lava. Then, suddenly, both of their hands are touching lava. (Dream's barely is. Technoblade’s hand engulfs his almost completely, but he's probably more fire resistant than he is. He braces himself, grits his teeth, burn, burn, burn, burn, everything in himself is screaming to take it all back, to reverse time, to-)

"Let this be a lesson not to, in the future."

Mers love their scratches

Dream loves head scritches when he's taken for health exams, even tho he's not all that scared of the medical procedures it's nice getting some head scratches as a reward along with some salmon too. Even though sap is a little more skeptical of the handlers and not fond of their touch he would never turn down chin scratches from Jordan.

George, Sam and larray almost wrestle for scritches when a maintenance worker cleans and brushes debris from the catwalks above the tanks.

Inspired by art by @wolflyndraws of George brushing everglades merman dream

Okay so sometimes prisons will let people (as far as I understand) have some sort of religious comfort object or something. Dream was allowed a single mercy by being able to keep his mask. He hides it the best he can when people came to visit, but one day quackity finds it. He doesn’t like that Dream can still hide things from him, even in prision. Perhaps he hangs it on his wall, perhaps he does worse 👀

Oh poor c!Dream :(

warnings: prison arc (pre 14.09 and yes there is a difference), torture mention, dehumanization, starvation (mentioned)

/rp /dsmp

It’s been months.

Or at least that’s what it feels like for the only prisoner of Pandora’s Vault.

It may have been longer. It may have been shorter. Dream wouldn’t know either way.

He began his day (or at least what he assumes is a day) like always - by waking up and trying to wash and dress his wounds from Quackity’s last visit.

Dream tries to do it before falling asleep if he can, but last night’s session left him unconscious by the end.

And now there he is - sitting against the obsidian wall and trying not to think about his situation. About the sharp edges of the wall and the floor. About how hungry he is. About how he is just waiting for the next visit. About how it is his only source of entertainment (if he can even call it that). About how he is just surviving, not living.

But does he have any other choice? It’s not like he can change anything. He has no allies. No friends. No family. No one cares about him. No one cares that he is being tortured.

They all know Dream. They know what is happening. They approve.

The voice sounds very similar to Quackity. He doesn’t want to believe it.

You will understand one day.

He hopes he doesn’t.

He reaches up to tug his mask down.

…

It’s not there.

The mask is gone.

How?!

Where?!

When?!

He looks around frantically. It must be somewhere close! The cell is not big enough for it to be hidden well!

He checks everywhere. Throws the books out of the chest. Digs into the water.

It’s not here.

Where is it?!

Dream is beginning to panic now. How is he supposed to face Quakcity now?! His face has always been too expressive. He has to hide it. He has to.

The lava falls down.

And there he is.

The visitor.

Sir.

No. Not sir. (Not yet.)

Quackity.

With shears in one hand. And… his mask.

(Dream doesn’t get the mask back. He does get to hold it for a bit. Right before Quackity tells him to choose: burn the mask or lose a finger.

He watches the lava for a long time afterwards.)

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sanctuary

living on the edge of the frontier, techno is used to many things wandering onto his land. that includes dream, an outlaw who is looking for some help and a place to hide.

rating: teen & up characters: technoblade, dream tags: western au, tending to injury, blood, alcohol

written for @nekioe for the @rivalsduogiftexchange! i hope you enjoy! <3 <3

The horse’s head hung low to the ground, sniffing the ground but making no move to nibble on the grass that poked out stubbornly from the dirt in sparse clumps. It was a white horse, grey on the nose and lower legs, and it wasn’t Techno’s horse. He stood in the doorway with his tin mug of coffee in hand, staring at the horse. Even at a distance, he could see the foamy sweat around the straps of the saddle if he squinted a bit. He didn’t need to squint to see the drops of blood in the dirt or the splash of red on the saddle blanket.

“Huh,” he said and took a sip of coffee before turning back inside. He set the mug down on the table. His gun and holster hung of the back of the chair and he picked it up. The leather was well worn and supple and buckling around his waist it was second nature. Through the greased paper window, Techno could see the horse, still in the same spot, just as blurry as when he had seen it the first time.

Outside, the sun was coming over the ridge and Techno squinted as he approached the horse from the front. It lifted its head but made no attempt to move away even as he patted its neck. Sweat covered its neck, chest, and flank. The horse had been ridden right to the edge of exhaustion, the sign of either a reckless or desperate rider. Judging by the blood, Techno thought desperate. The blood left a clear trail to his barn but he took the time remove the saddle and bridle from the horse.

“You just stay right here,” said Techno, giving the horse one last pat before following the trail of blood left on the dusty ground.

The barn door had been pulled closed. Blood was smeared on it, a partial hand print that the owner had attempted to wipe away. That struck Techno as odd. They had made no other attempt to hide their presence so why try to clean up the blood on his barn? He put one hand on the hilt of his gun and pulled the door open, letting light pour inside.

A gun was pointed right at Techno’s head.

The hand holding the gun was bloody and shaky and attached to a man, propped up against a bale of hay. His other hand was pressed against his side, holding a rag that likely used to be another color but was now reddish-brown. The lower half of his face was covered by a black bandana with a curved white line embroidered onto it, like a strange smile.

“Seriously, Bawaajigan?” Techno let go of his gun. “You’re gonna break into my barn then point a gun at me?”

An annoyed snort followed by a low wince of pain left the man. He lowered the gun.

“I—I told you, stop calling me that.”

“It’s your name, man, I dunno what to tell you,” Techno said with a grin. He crossed the distance between him and the man in three large steps. He knelt. “Did ya go and get yourself shot again?”

Above the black bandana, the man rolled green eyes. His forehead was shiny with sweat, blond hair sticking to his skin.

“What, sad it wasn’t you? Again?”

“You’re the one who wanted that duel, Dream.”

“Heh. Yeah—Yeah, that’s fair.”

Techno shook his head, grin softening into a knowing smile. The moment he saw the horse, he had thought his day would go something like this.

“Lemme see how bad it is.”

Dream slipped his gun into the holster that was strapped to his leg and finally pulled the black bandana down. Techno could count the number of times he had seen the whole of Dream’s face on one hand. He frowned a little as Dream pulled his hand away from his side. Dark, almost black blood slowly oozed from the tear in his skin.

“It didn’t get anything important,” said Dream.

One of Techno’s eyebrows shot upwards as he pulled a clean handkerchief out of his pocket.

“You sure about that?” he asked, pressing the handkerchief as gently as he could to the bullet hole. Dream drew in a sharp breath, air whistling between his clenched teeth.

“Well, I mean… No, but I don’t think it did.”

The words sounded uncertain and tight. Techno clicked his tongue. He wanted to ask what had happened, who had shot him this time and who was going to come looking for him. It was unlikely that anyone would come here; the last time he had been spotted in public with Dream, he had been twenty paces away. Techno’s hand felt around Dream’s side, looking for the exit wound. There was none.

“Good news,” Techno said as he leaned back on his heels, “you’re right – for once – and it didn’t hit anything important.”

The corner of Dream’s mouth twitched.

“Go to hell,” he said. And then, with the air of someone who already knew the answer, “What’s the bad news?”

“I’m gonna have to dig that bullet out.”

Dream closed his eyes for a moment. The blood had slowed to trickle, his body doing its job to keep him from bleeding to death. It wouldn’t matter if the bullet was left in to shift or break apart and seep lead into his blood.

“Yeah, I thought so.”

His eyes were still closed and Techno took this moment to look him over more closely. Blood had soaked his shirt and the waist of his pants but also near the hem of the opposite side. His knuckles were scrapped and his cheek was puffy and yellow, the sign of a newly forming bruise. 

“Alright. Well, I don’t want to go diggin’ it out in my barn so how about I help you inside?”

“Yeah, sure.”

With a deep sigh, Dream finally opened his eyes and began to push himself upright. His hand slipped a little on the loose straw covering the floor of the barn. Techno grabbed his shoulder to steady him before unceremoniously shoving his hands beneath Dream’s armpits and pulling him to his feet. A string of curses were muttered but Techno ignored them, wrapping an arm around Dream and letting him lean against him. The first couple steps, Dream was stubborn, trying to walk without assistance but by the time they had left the barn, he was fully leaning on Techno. He squinted in the sunlight.

“I left—Spirit should be out here, somewhere,” he said.

The horse had wandered a few feet, closer to pasture where Techno’s horses were, and was grazing. He would have to be put up but for now, exhaustion and the fact the other horses had wandered over to the fence to graze closer to the newcomer was working in their favor.

“He’s right there,” said Techno, nodding his head towards the fence. “He’ll be fine. I’m gonna stop you from dyin’ on my land and then I’ll go put him up, alright?”

Dream nodded. His jaw was clenched and his fingers dug into Techno’s arm hard enough to hurt as they climbed the stairs up to the porch. Techno almost made a joke about how he wasn’t going to drop Dream, if that’s what he was worried about, but decided against it.

“Your house sucks,” Dream said as he stepped onto the porch, breathing heavily.

Techno snorted.

“At least I have a house, Dream.”

He used his shoulder to push the door open. The bedroom was straight ahead, the door already open, and Techno steered Dream in that direction. It would mean a change of blankets but he needed a relatively flat surface.  

“You’re such a bastard.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Lay down,” Techno said.

Dream did what he was told without argument, though he tried to prop himself up on his elbows to watch Techno dig his leather medical bag out of his trunk and only fully laid down when Techno returned and pushed him back down. He grumbled a little then but it seemed to be all he had the energy for. Techno sat on the bed and the mattress creaked.

“Pull your shirt up a little.”

“You better not mess this up,” said Dream, pulling his torn and blood stained shirt up.

The buckle on the leather bag had long since broken and Techno pulled out a few items – clean rags torn into strips, a pair of thin metal tongs, and a bottle of whiskey – and set them on the crate serving as a night stand.

“Pfft, I’ll remind you that you came to me, man.” He uncorked the whiskey. Dream eyed the bottle warily. Carefully, Techno poured some over the wound then wiped away the blood with one of the rags. He glanced up at Dream, face beaded with sweat, and smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”

Lifting his hand, Dream wrapped his fingers around Techno’s wrist, his pale skin in stark contrast to Techno’s brown skin, and squeezed.

“I—I believe you.”

It was earnest and Techno inclined his head towards Dream before picking up the metal tongs. Dream let go of his wrist in favor of balling his fists into the wool blanket as Techno began his work. He found one large chunk of the bullet fairly quickly and discarded it to the side. The other two pieces were harder to find and Techno paused a few times when Dream made a pained sound, reaching out to place his hand over Dream’s for a moment. When he had finally gotten the final fragment out with a bit of twisting and pulling, Techno poured more whiskey over the wound. Dream hissed out a quiet ‘god damn’.

“Anything else I oughta take a look at?” asked Techno, glancing down at the blood on Dream’s leg.

Dream shook his head.

“N-no, I’m fine.” Techno paused in the middle of rinsing his hands off in the basin and cocked an eyebrow. Dream huffed. “It’s nothing I can’t handle, okay? I’m fine.”

Drying his hands off on his pants, Techno pulled out another strip of the makeshift bandage. He slipped a hand behind Dream’s shoulder and guided him up. A pained wince was bit back as Dream glanced at Techno sheepishly.

“I believe you, alright, I believe you,” he said. Without being told, Dream lifted his arms up so that Techno could wrap the bandage around his abdomen a few times, pulling it taut enough to help stop the bleeding but not too tight to be uncomfortable. “D’you want to tell me what happened now?”

The expression on Dream’s face was serious, hurt, and he looked away. There had only been a handful times that Techno had seen Dream’s face but the times he had, the other man had been grinning. The change was disconcerting.

“It was an ambush. I—They’re probably going to come looking for me. I figured, you know, I figured that they wouldn’t look here.”

Techno pat Dream on the knee and then handed him the bottle of whiskey. Now he grinned as he took a swig, face scrunching up as the alcohol burned his nose.

“Well, I’ve never been one to kick an injured and homeless man to the curb,” Techno said, nudging Dream a little with his knee. “You can stay here as long as you need.”

“What—You’re a son of a bitch, Techno.”

Techno’s smile stretched wider.

“That sure is a funny way of sayin’ ‘thank you’, Dream.”

A long, resigned sigh was pulled from Dream.

“Thank you.”

Prompt: Dream is released from prison and one night when Sam's trying to sleep the full scope of what he did hits him.

oh this one was heartwrenching anon im in love

the idea that sam and dream were FRIENDS before pandora haunts me so much ,, dream TRUSTED him, at one point, and sam trusted him back ,, it’s really the cherry on top of the whole dang screwed up cake that is the prison :’)

anyway, as is becoming the norm on this blog, please note the warnings bc this gets heavy!

tw: abuse (physical/emotional), toxic relationships, effects of starvation (it’s brief but it’s there), violence, panic attacks, illness, blood, gore (?)

There is blood on the pickaxe.

Sam's hand brushes over the netherite; even in the dark room, the metal, lit by the soft lavender light of enchantments, is clearly stained reddish-brown, some flecks reaching the polished wooden handle. He must've forgotten to clean it after the last session with the prisoner- Dream, throwing it and the rest of his Warden set in a chest haphazardly before going to sleep.

His fingers brush against it; the edge is ragged from a lack of maintenance, the dried blood leaving the entire surface patchy and irregular. The bottom of the handle is well-worn, the wood easily molding to the palm of his hand, the weight familiar. He watches himself move it with a strange sort of disconnect, maneuvering the tool - weapon around with almost more ease than his own sword. He flips it around, fingers easily finding the nick in the top third of the handle, the groove where metal meets wood, eyes tracing his own handwriting, words written in neat, blocky script along the bottom edge of the netherite.

Warden's Will Breaker

The Warden. It's hard to remember that that person was even him, wearing netherite like a second skin, sword perpetually within reach, a monotone voice and metal mask to hide everything soft away; completely emotionless, until the pickaxe was in his hand and every feeling he'd kept bottled deep beneath came up, furious, suffocating, leaving nothing behind but a simmering rage that demanded release-

(Blood on his hands the sound of cracking bones tugging on the handle and meeting resistance screams echoing on obsidian please please Sam stop please stop please-)

He breathes in, out, the pickaxe (Will Breaker) still lying in his hands, still stained with blood. He blinks down at it; it feels wrong to hold it without the rest of the Warden's gear on his body, to carry this thing still saturated with memories of dark shadows and stifling heat and so much pain, to be staring at it without the weight of a mask on his face, of armor sitting against his shoulders, of a sword on his hip. It feels like it belongs to someone else entirely, completely out of place against his creeper print pajama pants (courtesy of Ponk) and knit slippers; it feels foreign, even with memories of it held in his hands flash through his head.

(you deserve this you are a monster you didn't stop when he asked you to I'll stop when you're sorry I'll stop when you're broken behave behave behave)

The prison was all boxes, hard edges; there was no room for kindness, no room for mercy. The prison meant that he was the Warden, that Dream was the Prisoner, that they would not, could not step out of the roles carved for them in the unforgiving obsidian. The walls were stark; every inch deliberate, methodical, necessary. The Warden held the monster and the Prisoner sought to escape his Labyrinth and thus went the game, everlasting, until one of them broke, until one of them failed, Will Breaker, really, only meant to speed up the process-

Only that didn't quite happen.

The Prisoner left, but didn't escape; the Warden was no longer needed, but did not fail. In the end, it was Sam that found Dream wheezing, feverish, in the back of his cell, Sam who carried the man across the bridge, feeling him lie limply in his arms, all skin and bones, Sam who brought him into the Community House as everyone clamored over his weak and dying body.

He'd been released from Pandora (for the foreseeable future, Puffy had said, voice trembling, until he's well enough to stand trial) and Sam, unable to stare at the still-unconscious man and remember his own hands covered in blood and bits of shattered bone, had left to hide away in his base. Until he's needed to be the Warden, again, he'd muttered to himself on the boat ride over, until that responsibility is once again his to bear.

It's harder to justify it all, here, where his floor is covered in carpet and dog hair, where there's a soft light behind him from the redstone lamp hooked up next to his bed, where everything from the Warden has been scrubbed away and left just Sam, limbs a bit gangly, hunched down over a chest that's just a bit too short for him to reach comfortably, feelings raw and painful like an exposed nerve. It's hard to say that the violence and cruelty were necessary, looking at the walls laid down by hands kinder than his own, the remnants of pie still stuck in his chests and blocks of bright pink wool (You Matter <3) decorating the few that he hasn't opened in a while, staring at the soft-edged memories of someone that had yet to know that pickaxes could be stained red by something other than redstone.

("You're leaving?" Dream, younger, hands knotting in the bottom hem of his hoodie.

"Just for a bit," readjusting his crown from where it stands, off-center, on his head; Dream laughing and reaching up to straighten it for him. "I just want to explore a little. Find somewhere open where I can really rig some stuff up, you know?"

"I can't believe the things you do with that crap, man," freckled cheeks rising in a brilliant smile. "It's insane."

"You're pretty insane yourself, Mr. Manhunt," Dream tosses his head back, wheezing, and Sam laughs with him. The sun rises over them, sky pale and pink and beautiful.

"Well, this is the Community House, Awesam," Dream pulls him in, arms wrapping around his neck, head bumping against his chin. "You're always welcome here."

He smiles, soft, murmuring an agreement that rumbles deep and low in his chest. "I know. Y'all take care of yourselves, ok?"

"Of course," Dream punches him, lightly, in the shoulder, trying and failing to hide the way his eyes shine. "We always do.")

The pickaxe falls from his hand, clattering to the ground. Distantly, Sam realizes he's crying.

Prime, what had he done?

not married not dating not friends but a secret fourth thing (outlaws running a city while searching for their missing kid)

memes that make no sense

L

He is thinking .

You have one wish

Well that’s good wish.

New style Dream

Are you surprised?

Doom day

Awww, you gonna cry?

Jailbreak

Nice try