I Don't Wanna Crowd Your Asks Even More I Am So Sorry, But Consider: C!Dream Never Able To Properly Do

the real sad thing is wil never needed to do anything big, extravagant or legendary to ever make his father proud. idk maybe to just exist was enough imao

absolutely. cphilza would be very proud to have raised a peaceful, artistic son. phil was never as explicit about entering retirement as techno was (probably because, as an immortal, that doesn't really mean anything) but he was happy to hunker down with his retired friend and presumably stay there until he inevitably outlived him. some of the most explicit on-screen advice we see cphilza give cwilbur is how to give a good apology. this isn't a man who wanted to raise a warmonger.

C!Dream with decapitation scars hc (rivals duo as well)

c!Tommy cut off his head with an axe before he was put in prison. c!Q definitely considered it but realized it would cause issues, so he did stuff like slit Dream’s throat as deep as he could. I’d imagine Dream has one large ugly scar around his neck, straight in the middle and then a bunch of smaller more delicate looking ones on different parts of his neck/upper chest. Q isn’t out for blood, he’s out for revenge. He knows that dull blades make for ugly cuts, so sharp knives in his bag it is. Dream is broken enough from the torture but the bloodloss from those makes him sob. For Q it’s no longer about the book. The book is Dream’s and Q has decided to go after Dream’s very soul in order to get the damn book. So Dream is rescued by c!Techno with a huge scar around his neck that c!Phil assumed was from the prison. The smaller ones Techno notices while they were in prison together. Techno doesn’t say a word about those ones to anyone, but he definitely knows it was Q’s doing. So Techno finds Dream turtlenecks and neck warmers to cover them. Dream deserves some dignity afterall, Q couldn’t take that from him.

I absolutely made this out of spite.

I’m not actually upset or anything, but I was definitely cackling evilly to myself while drawing.

Also took this as a chance to try drawing Piglin!Techno, who I’m, surprisingly enough, very happy with.

Art I made for my western au like.. 8 months ago

Is It the Head or the Tail

Written for the dreamnblade christmas event @alterdnbweek is holding this year.

Day 13 Prompts: Reincarnation; Confession

I haven't looked at the word count for any of these, but if I had to guess, this one is the longest I've written so far.

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Dream wakes up feeling horrible, the nightmare lingering out of reach but filling him with the feeling of absolute failure as he stumbles out of his bed. He's ready in a few minutes then heads downstairs to help his mom with everything else. Mostly making sure Tubbo is ready, though. Only, Tubbo is having a bad day as well. He's refusing to do anything without an argument and Dream is already done, ready to go back to sleep and he's only been awake for thirty minutes.

It's somehow worse when Tommy bursts through. He instantly taps into Tubbo reticent mood, doubling it and they keep wanting to play games or goof off like it's the end of the day already when they still need to go to school.

He breaths through his nose, doing his best to ignore the ticking clock as he manages to barely corral Tubbo into doing things for a minute before Tommy immediately drags him away again. He can't yell. That would just make them both act worse because Tommy always refuses to do things unless he wants to do it and right now, Tubbo is going to follow him. And that's besides the fact Dream hates yelling in any situation.

Somehow, he gets them out the door mostly put together. He can almost ignore them on the drive to their school even if the yelling is scratching the inside of his skull.

(Mom would have been able to deal with this better. Anyone would have. They would get the kids ready, have them at least focused on something, and they wouldn't be arriving at the middle school with ten minutes to spare.)

Dream's knuckles are white on the steering wheel as he sits at the fifth red light he's hit. There's only seven and he prays that he won't hit the last three. He only has five minutes until the first bell. He's going to be rushing if he gets one more red light. Late for the tenth time this semester and he's so useless for not being able to manage his time better. He's not the only person who has younger siblings they have to get ready and drop off. Just the only one who can't be on time.

He gets red lights for the last three - of course - and the closest spot he can find is basically in the back of student parking. And one of the counselors is right at the entrance as he's rushing through the door.

The counselor snaps at him, pointing to the front office even though he's barely a minute past the bell. There's no way out of it. He squeezes his eyes shut as he slips into the office, hearing the secretary sigh as she sees him.

"Just get to class," she says. "You'll loose more time if you wait for the slip to be filled out."

It's the only good thing that's happened this morning so Dream doesn't question it. He does make sure to keep his head down as he leaves, skirting around the counselor as much as possible. The halls are mostly empty so his speed walking through the halls doesn't involve dodging people. All together, the other students are just starting to settle down as he slips into the room and to his seat in the back of the room behind Techno.

He'll be fine. He just needs to take a moment to catch his breath, then there's no reason for him to be worried. There's no homework due in this class, he has everything for his other ones, and no tests set for the day. Things can only-

"Now that everyone is calmed down," Ms. A. says, looking over them with a hard eye, "you'll have ten minutes from now to finish a pop quiz then we're getting started on the next class project."

Dream's eyes flick to the front desk, spotting the stack of papers still sitting there and she's just started handing out. She's on the opposite side of the room. He's going to be one of the last students to get the quiz sheet and it always takes around two minutes before it gets to him. And that's not a sheet, he can see a staple in the corner and Ms. A. always does double sided. How is this a pop quiz? He's going to fail it simply because he won't have time, like always.

That repeats for his next two classes. The teacher dropping a pop quiz on the class with barely enough time to get the thing done combined with the start of a big project right after. All three are due in two weeks, are individual, need a class presentation no longer than ten minutes, five sources, and a 3 to 5 page paper. Each one has most of his classmates whispering and talking with each other over the teacher cutting down the time they have to explain the thing and answer any actual questions.

He's hoping that lunch will be better. That he can relax with his friends for 25 minutes with crappy food and just let his mind go blank until the bell for his next class starts.

As he's walking to the table he and his friends sit at, though, someone runs into him. The spaghetti, peas, mashed potatoes, and milk splatter across his chest, into his open messenger bag, and on his feet. Slowly, he looks up to see all the people staring at him. A few are cracking smiles, shaking with muffled laughter, or just straight up laughing.

"Oh my god, you really are so brain dead you can't even walk straight," Sam's familiar voice sneers at him. His turns to look at him, confirming the look of scorn burning into his face. "You should get a special aide. Might help you get out of the daydream land at some point."

There's more giggles and laughing around them. More eyes boring into his skin. Everyone is focused on him as he can only stare at Sam.

Can only

Sam doesn't have a chance to scream as he's ripped from the world. There's barely time for his face to twist into shock as reality splits him into the smallest pieces it can. Quackity is actually screaming. Feet scrambling as he slowly turns to look at him. The duck hybrid's eyes are wide, words spilling from his mouth but they are useless. Worthless. He deserves this just as much.

spin on his heel. Running from the lunchroom as voices rise behind him. He can't tell what they're saying. Doesn't care. Let them all mock him for whatever they want but he can't stay there.

He runs and runs and runs and finally collapses in a small corner on the very edge of the school grounds surrounded by bushes and pressed against a rock with burning lungs. He buries his face into his knees, sobs wracking his body as everything just collapses over him.

Dream has no clue how long he stays there, tears slowly stopping even as he keeps struggling to breath. He's barely able to follow the slow motions running over his back his head is such a mess.

His breath hitches, head jerking upwards as he looks at who found him with a red-eyed glare. He doesn't want any of his friends to-

It's not any of his friends.

It's Techno. Sitting right next to him and rubbing Dream's back even as he stares towards the school building instead of at Dream.

Techno who doesn't know Dream exists. Techno who's always head of the class no matter the subject, who got state awards for his writing, has competed in national fencing competitions. Techno who's in every single one of Dream's classes but has never acknowledged Dream or even looked at him. Techno who doesn't have any reason to come and find Dream; doesn't have a reason to know where this small corner is, or to be comforting him when there's so many more important things for him to be doing.

Dream puts his head back down, struggling to get his breathing back under control and not wanting to make it worse by trying to figure out why Techno would be here when everything is already too much.

It eases, slowly, and he does his absolute best to not think about how long he could have been out here. How pissed his teachers are going to be and how many things he missed in class and will have to make up. How he'll have to explain that he couldn't handle having some food dumped on him and light teasing.

He's working on keeping his mind from drifting beyond observing the grass under him when techno speaks up, "Do you want to go to the nurse?"

Dream frowns, looking up. He's not hurt. None of the food was warm enough, Sam didn't touch him, and he doesn't think he tripped on anything in his blind dash. If anything, everyone just learned he can't deal with small things everyone else can.

Techno looks right at him, "That's bullshit." did he say that out loud? "You just had a panic attack and probably a nervous breakdown. If you need to go home, you need to go home. There's nothing bad about admitting you can't handle everything happening right now."

"I, I don't need to," he manages to get out, rubbing at his face. "I just, had a busy morning. I don't know why, why I reacted that way to, to Sam. I'm fine now. I can go, go back to class and not worry anyone else-"

He registers hands on his shoulders before the sigh. The weight and seeping warmth of them are comforting in a way Dream can't explain even as it seeps into his bones and his brain is whispering that maybe he should listen to what Techno is saying.

Which-

"There was a lot of shit on your plate this morning," Techno is saying, voice soft and it's soothing against his brain. He's here. He gets that Dream is struggling and is working on it with him. Helping. "Plus all the crap from before today. That doesn't go away. It lingers until ya take care of it and I know what it looks like when someone's hiding things, so don't try and lie, idiot."

He doesn't have an argument for that. Isn't sure if he would want to bring one up given his focus has turned to trying to figure out why the 'idiot' sounds like an affectionate nickname over an insult.

"Alright," he mumbles.

Techno stands, offering a hand to help him to his feet. He wraps an arm around Dream's shoulders, feeling like he pulls him closer and of he closes his eyes, he could pretend it's happening under different circumstances. That he's not covered in cold lunch food, face streaked with dried tears and snot, and he wasn't just crying his eyes out in a hidden hole.

The hallways are silent as they reenter the school. Techno guides him straight to the nurse's office, knocking but opening the door before the nurse can even respond.

Dream's tongue in heavy in his mouth and he's struggling to say anything as the nurse rushes over, asking question too fast for him to mentally keep up with. Techno - wonderful Techno - takes over, voice a nice timber as he's guided to a chair and sat down. His head feels fuzzy. Barely keeping up with the changes in tones of the people in front of him. He's more focused on the hand rubbing his shoulder slowly. Easing the ache he hadn't noticed was there.

The conversation ends and there's nothing stopping him from drifting. Not seeing anything in front of him. Hardly able to register anything except a gentle murmur next to his ear and a warm arm over his shoulder.

It's Techno. He knows to his very core that it is Techno and there is nothing that could happen to make him willingly leave. It would take something out of both of their control to do that. It's enough to have him barely reacting as he's guided back to his feet, lead out of shifting images he's not sure what to make of. (There's deserts over filled classrooms over forest over ice over brick walls over gleaming black over glaring faces over shiny tiles over over over over over-)

Something pink lands in his lap, small black eyes staring up at him over a snout and he carefully lifts the pig stuffie to look at it closer. It's adorable. Soft and cute and he can hear Techno's voice right next to him still even if the words sound more like a rushing wave than anything specific. He looses space again, but the little pig at least keeps the visions from coming back.

When he can finally hold onto something for longer than a second, he finds himself bundled in a couple blankets on his couch holding a pig plushy tightly in his arms as a documentary plays quietly on the tv. There's sounds coming from the kitchen and he looks over just in time to see Techno stepping out with a bowl of something in his hands.

He smiles as he looks up - "hey, you back?" - and walks over to place the bowl on the side table, a hand rising and brushing Dream's bangs from his eyes.

Dream flinches back, horror slipping through him at the action- oh god he's such a worthless mess and there's no reason for Techno to be wasting time with him why is he-

Techno sits down in front of the couch, gesturing vaguely to the bowl and saying, "You need to eat something since you didn't get the chance for lunch."

His hand is shaking as he slowly picks up the spoon, leaning over the bowl as much as he can to avoid dripping anything. The first sips are tasteless. Just hot liquid that moves over his tongue and down his throat. Flavor does come in, though. Something light instead of heavy and there's something familiar about it even though he doesn't recognize the soup at all. He probably had something similar in the past and that's what his head is latching onto.

Anyway, it's not the thing he wants to be focusing on. That's Techno sitting on the floor in front of Dream's blanket nest and watching a video about Shakespeare adaptations. It's something so stupidly a Techno thing he has to hide his smile around the spoon.

They sit there as he slowly eats the soup and watching various videos. They're on the third one - Dream having slipped to the ground during the second and currently just barely pressing against Techno's side - when there's a knock at the door.

He freezes, head snapping toward the door and praying that he was just hearing things. But the knock comes again and he slowly stands up, shaking as he pulls a blanket tight around him as he pads to it. Peaking through the peephole reveals Sapnap, Bad, and George on the other side. Sapnap pacing on the edge of the porch, Bad with a hand raised to knock again, and George holding Dream's school things.

(Dream... hadn't even though of that. Oops.)

He cracks open the door, his friends startling at the motion and they stare at each other for a long moment (it feels like... they're expecting something?).

His voice is hoarse as he asks, "What are you doing here?"

"We wanted to get your stuff to you," Bad says. "And make sure you're alright. We couldn't find you even though we looked. Even when we checked upstairs where Techno said you ran right after."

Dream stares up at him, half wondering what exactly his face looks like to have them looking so nervous and half doing his best to not look at Techno standing on the side to figure out what the fuck that means.

"You want us to hang out or talk about it?" George asks. "We're down for staying over night even if you want."

He pulls his blanket a bit further over his head, "No. I want to be alone."

There's shifting between all three of them, but they don't push, mumbling a few goodbyes and promises to drop by over the weekend. He closes the door. Stares at his hand against the wood for a moment before he flips the lock. There's another moment then he looks at Techno.

"Did you lie about where I went?"

Techno rubs at the back of his neck, "Them being there would have made things worse. I could help, so, I did. Part of that was just pointing them a different way."

His face is warm as he ducks his head again. He shuffles past Techno back to the living room, hearing the faint, intentional scuffs on the floor as Techno follows. It's something so small, but wonderful. He can't count how many times he's almost hurt someone when they-

Dream stares down at his backpack hanging from his hand.

He's... never lashed out at someone for startling him. Why would he even think that?

The backpack drops to the ground and he doesn't know where he wants to sit. He knows he wants something solid, something real which would be the blanket nest on the couch against the armrest. But he also wants to be close to Techno who's most likely to sit on the floor again leaving way too much open space around Dream where he's not sure if another incident will happen without something to ground himself with. Yet being next to him has been it's own type of grounding that he's not sure-

Hands push him onto the couch gently. Right into the corner of it among the nest. Dream blinks as Techno sits next to him, leaning back into the cushions and grabbing the remote to resume the video they were watching. He ducks into his blanket-hood as he leans against the cushion himself, wiggling as close as he dares to the other as sound starts drifting around them.

He's vaguely aware of a conversation happening over him. His eyes drift open partly, seeing his mom in front of Techno and they are clearly talking. He can catch a few words, but his head is so heavy, sleep so present in his mind, he drifts off before he can figure out what they might be talking about.

It's hours later that has him gasping upright with flames and blood and screams and faces all around him. He knows he was doing what he had to, that it was the right thing for vengeance, but the faces and screams of familiar unfamiliarity are crawling around him even though he gave them more mercy than he had to. Granted it only because-

His feet slip on his floor as he falls from his bed and stumbles through the halls. He was alone. He woke up alone to cold and he can't hear anything inside the house. He has to find-

"Sh, sh, you're with me- mom in our house," mom's voice snaps through his racing thoughts. "Tubbo's at Tommy's for the weekend. Everything is alright. You're safe. No danger, I promise. I'm not going anywhere."

She's in front of him. Crouching on the ground with him and her hands are wound around his arms. Her face is streaked with clear concern, but she only keep repeating the same assurances that he's fine, Tubbo's fine, she's fine, there's not danger, and she isn't moving.

It takes a while for Dream to fully push the lingering bits of the nightmare that makes no sense into a box to deal with later. Mom made pancakes for breakfast and she let's him eat them on the couch as they watch a stupid show with way to much fan service on the women and such a stupid plot, he is pretty sure the pancakes could gain sentience from being in the same room as it.

Everything is fine. It's all fine and there's nothing wrong. He just has to repeat that to himself until it becomes true.

Only this is mom's weekend for work and she has to leave eventually. He insists that he's fine, almost pushing her out the door himself. She manages to run her fingers through his hair as she holds him close and assures him she'll be home as soon as she can. He doesn't want to acknowledge how much he hates the fact she's leaving, but asking her to stay would be worse so he keeps his thoughts shut up tight as they say goodbye at the door.

She opens the door and he blinks at seeing Techno walking up their sidewalk. There's a brief conversation, barely more than a quick exchange of words, before mom is vanishing down the pathway and Dream is standing in the door way staring at Techno who apparently offered to come over to watch Dream while his mom was at work.

The thought has most of him melting inside. His mom clearly cared enough to make sure he wasn't going to be alone and Techno - who shouldn't know him - offered to be that person when it would have been easier to not. The small part that wants to protest being baby sat isn't loud enough to be anything but a faint nuisance easily ignored.

They wind up in the living room again, sitting at the coffee table. Dream is fidgeting with his sleeves as he watches Techno pulling things from his backpack.

There's a swirling conviction inside him that he's watching an illusion or hallucinating. That Techno is- That something happened and this can't be real. That all Dream can do is bare the pain inside him for long enough to exact the revenge he needs to.

Techno doesn't seem to notice the oddity, though, organizing the pages he's pulling out on the table into twin stacks. They all look like the things that have to have been handed out in the classes Dream missed yesterday and he glances up at Techno because he missed those classes too-

"I asked Skeppy to explain generally what happened to the teachers and grab anything they assigned or handed out." Techno shrugs when he looks up. "We can work on them or do something else if you want."

"Oh," he breathes. "I mean. Yeah. Homework."

Time passes and Dream hasn't felt this content in he doesn't know how long. He's sprawling across the floor and table, shoulder and back loose as he double checks the last assignment due on Monday. Techno's in the kitchen - in line of sight and making noise consistently - warming up something for their lunch. He hadn't recognized the containers as they were pulled from the fridge, but the smell as it's heating up is good enough he's not going to ask any questions until after they eat if he even does.

He wishes they could stay here. A perfect little bubble of existence where it's no one but them. No danger from outsiders who plan on hurting them. No obligations weighing over them. No one demanding some sort of ridiculous attention from them. Just Dream and Techno. Comfy in their living room and kitchen enjoying just being next to each other.

Eventually, though, the lingering dredges of his nightmare from the night prior, the others that he's had but only remembers fragments of, and he finds himself curled up in front of his empty plate, staring at Techno with the certainty this is going to be the last time he has the chance to memorize his face. That he can't forget it and if he does it would be worse then death.

Techno notices - of course he does. He knew as soon as Dream started staring - and glances up, a small smile flicking on his lips as he asks, "Do you need anything?"

And Dream-

finds himself spilling everything he's been struggling with. From Tubbo getting into that state where he hates doing anything he's asked especially if it's Dream asking for it, the stress of knowing the bills are starting to pile up no matter how mom tries to hide it, the bullying from Sam and others at school where nothing is ever done even when a teacher is two feet away, having all of those assignments dropped on them at once yesterday, and that every night and day he wakes up from nightmares and has for a few years at this point and they just keep lingering. The emotions and fragments he's left with staying for months on end and only building on each other no matter how much time passes.

Techno lets him talk and doesn't interrupt, just listens. He even stays quiet as Dream finally falls silent himself, leaning against the couch and pressing his head into the cushion. Talking about emotions is exhausting. Even more so with his previous day.

Then Techno is next to him, arm tugging him close and a low rumble of a question: "Can you tell me about those nightmares? It's fine if you can't, but talking about them helps."

Dream does his best. Gives the small fragments of description he has, the emotions that are always there and only seem to vanish when a worse one takes their place. Adding to each other instead of going away, and the one he had last night that's more put together in what he can recall than any of the others, but he knows it is still in fragments.

And - unlike his friends who always said that the nightmares sounded awful, but clearly not real so he should just, you know try doing breathing exercises or something before Dream stopped bringing them up because they were clearly getting tired hearing about them every day - Techno pulls him closer, curls them both together in a tangle of limbs and warmth and things ease inside of Dream he didn't even know where there. The knot unravels-

"I'm sorry, Dream," Techno apologizes into his hair. "Didn't want you to be hurt."

He frowns, going to ask what he's talking about only for Techno to explain without prompting.

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Techno knows more about things than anyone else in the Syndicate.

Chat may have adored him, pressed into his mind as hard as they could to the point they followed him through death, but they were not bound to his life like Phil's crows where. They lingered because of that. More scattered, but able to watch things that happened across the board than they would have sticking to just Techno's view on the world. So they were there as The End came crashing onto the rest. As existence was shredded by still hands and a blank face.

Niki was there as Techno was dealing with all of it. He was six when all of the memories where in his head alongside Chat. It was... bad. If she hadn't been there, he's pretty sure he would have been put in a psych ward and drugged to the ears.

She was there, though, and Techno didn't wind up in a ward, but they both remembered. Phil remembered and others where just starting to show the first signs of it beginning. Niki is the one he went to after he wrote down a list, stared at it for far too long and could only come up with one solution. The Essempe was gone. There was no way they could repair it no matter what they did, but, well, Techno could protect Dream from remembering what happened. He could seal it as best he could and hope it was enough to keep the long, long, long list of people who would want their own pound of flesh from him off his back.

He hadn't realized it might cause this much harm and he's sorry for that. Techno just wanted him to be able to live a life without the weight of before on his shoulders. To not have to deal with the past.

Dream is staring at him, huddled under his blanket and curled around a pillow. He's chewing on a lip and Techno hesitantly wants to think that he's not angry about what Techno just shared. That would be reading too much into things, though, much like the times the thought has drifted past that Dream might like him. This isn't the Dream who he knew almost as well as himself at times. This is someone different no matter how many things are similar.

"Would you be willing," Dream starts, pausing as his brow furrows, "to tell me about it?"

He blinks, "Why?"

"It, well, I'd want the nightmares to stop, but there's not really a way to do that." He tugs the blanket closer, a motion so familiar Techno has to force his hands to stay still at the want to tug him closer, "So if you could tell me about them, that should help, right? And" there's fiddling the the edges of the blanket as green eyes bore a hole into ground "and I can decide if I want to remember."

"Dream," he wants to deny it. Wants to argue against it because he shouldn't have to deal with the actions taken by people he's close to alongside his own, but- "it's a lot."

There's a small smile as Dream looks up, "I know. And I won't make it before I know more, but I want to have that option."

"Alright," Techno says, smiling back.

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AU Notes:

pretty much everyone from the SMP has their memories it except Dream because of the block the syndicate members put on him which is why a lot of them act the way they do towards dream. most of them are aggressive or bullying towards him if they meet (like sam and tubbo) but a few are willing to ignore the past for the most part if not fully (the syndicate, dream team, tommy)

it's not mentioned, but dream's mom is puffy who, again, does remember but is of the opinion that the SMP is the past and it should stay there. she honestly doesn't know anyone else remembers otherwise, well, bad would have had a talk with her by now. though she is sus about techno now.

sapnap, george, and bad do like dream, but are worried that he's starting to remember the SMP and as such are scared about what he would do. they would have been worried earlier if they knew more about the nightmares dream is having, but his descriptions are a) from his perspective and b) extremely muddled because the block is doing it's best to keep him from remembering so they honestly just thought they were strange nightmares/dreams

so, backstory. dream and techno were in a relationship on the SMP when the syndicate was wiped out by a mass attack planned by the others. it was such that dream wasn't able to revive any of them and as a result, well, he tore the SMP apart. partly to make sure that the others paid for what they did, but mostly because it was the only way dream could die to follow them.

I have a lot more details about this au, but this post is already long. If anyone's interested, I can make another that is basically an expanded AU notes and possibly write more in this one.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed and see you tomorrow!

Oh so it wasn't necessary to speak up when the slur slinging slasher called dream slurs, physically assaulted him, and harassed a service worker, but it's necessary to speak up about a tweet?

Hi, it just stuck in my head

Dream is a fledgling, so he is dependent on Phil's blood.

Feeding is a little ritual where they get nice and cozy in the nest (THEIR nest), Dream usually sits really close, wanting to be held and pulled into Phil's lap (Phil does this, his fledgling needs to be kept safe and hidden from the world). Dream is covered with dark wings, and feels like he is melting into safety.

Dream feeds from Phil's shoulder/neck, which is a bit unusual for relationship sir/fledgling, usually fledgling feeds from the wrist, which is still intimate but not THAT provocative. (Phil is just old, okay? He feeds the fledgling in an old tradition that many don't remember anymore. So stop looking at him weirdly, respect your elders).

Techno stands near the door, facing the nest and windows. He is protective of his cute chosen mates, he likes to watch them get close. (Also possessive Philza is hot, and Dream's cloudy eyes that periodically flicker through the dark feathers awaken instincts in him that scream at him to take care of his mates, go into the nest and hug them.)

I blame you for getting into my brain with the vampire au. And I really love all your works

Ps: Eh, I'm still using the translator, so forgive me if some of the words are weird or sound wrong.

You're in my head & making things even better

i have two very strong mental images for the vampire au:

dream feeding from philza. i did imagine dream feeding from phil's neck, and the idea that that's unusually intimate for their relationship is SO GOOD. i imagine dream so desperate and hungry and phil so willing to provide for him. talking gently to him, relaxed and unbothered as though the feeding doesn't hurt a bit. his hands gentle yet possessive on dream's back, helping him through the waves of raw need, shushing him if he goes too quickly. reminding him that he can take his time-- phil isn't going anywhere. dream whines and writhes. (i read "a long time dead" recently, where vampires would sometimes orgasm during a feed, especially if they aren't used to being so excited for a meal. just... completely untouched. take that as you will.)

philza finding a half-dead dream, in desperate need of blood. phil cradles him and basically impales his neck on dream's fangs while the boy is too weak to properly bite him. he prays that dream's instincts will kick in and that at least some of his blood will make it down dream's throat.

handmade warmth

for the @sixteenth-day-event

The cold made Dream’s leg hurt. He rubbed a hand over his residual limb, massaging the scarred flesh and the muscle remained. It was a phantom pain and it annoyed him, that unwanted reminder of what had happened in the prison. He had told Techno that if it was in his mind then he should be able to control it and Techno hadn’t laughed but had given him an oddly tight smile and said he wasn’t sure it worked like that. Leaning forward, Dream held his hands out to the fire. It was low now, as the evening had dragged into night, and that was letting in the chill that caused the aching in his joints.

He thought about calling for Techno, who had disappeared upstairs for something he promised was important, to add another log. He could do it himself on a good day but he was tired and the muscle spasm in his leg when he had moved still hadn’t faded. Some rational part of his mind said it had been barely over a month since he had escaped the prison and it made sense he wasn’t up to much yet. Dream had been studiously ignoring it.

The metal poker was just within reach if Dream tipped the chair over just a little.

“If you fall, I am gonna laugh at you,” came Techno’s voice from behind him.

The chair dropped back to floor with a thud and Dream turned around with the best scowl he could manage, cheeks red and hot.

“I’m not—Shut up, Techno, you’re—you’re the one who left me here for, like, three hours,” said Dream, eyes flicking to the window as he tried to judge how much time had passed. The snow outside, tinted purple by the beacons, made it difficult.

“Bruh, it was not three hours.”

Dream rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, sinking into the chair.

“It felt like three hours.” Dream glanced down. “What’s that?”

The ‘that’ in question was a large package that was tucked under Techno’s arm. It was wrapped in paper decorated with snowflakes and holly and it was lumpy. The bow that had been carefully tied around it was crushed a little. Techno held it out and patted one hand against it.

“It’s a present, Dream,” he said, crossing the room to stand in front of Dream. He set in his lap. “Merry Christmas, man.”

Blinking a couple times, Dream ran his hand over the package and then frowned.

“It’s not even Christmas.”

Techno glanced at the fireplace then reached for a log. He carefully placed it on top, the flames licking at his fingers, and if it burnt, he didn’t seem to notice. Pulling his rocking chair a little bit forward, he sat.

“Eh, it’s Christmas Eve. Close enough.” Techno shrugged. “Beside, that’s as much for me as it is for you. Go on, open it, man.”

In the fireplace, the flames licked up the new log. Dream’s frown deepened. There were half a dozen protests he could make – that Christmas Eve still wasn’t Christmas, that he hadn’t gotten anything for Techno – but he began to carefully tear open the paper.

“Whatever,” he muttered. The embarrassed blush was still on his face.

Once the paper was removed, it took Dream a moment to figure out what it was. He ran his fingers over the soft fabric, a patchwork of different patterns and colors. Flowers and swirls and geometric shapes. Greens and blues and spots of reds. Dream unfolded the quilt partially. The back was three large blocks of fabric, all shades of dark navy that reminded Dream of the night sky in the arctic. He looked up. Techno was watching with a satisfied expression, mouth curved into a smile, tusks glinting in the firelight.

“What d’you think? Now you can finally stop hoggin’ my blanket,” said Techno.

Dream pulled the quilt further into his lap, letting it spill down across his legs. It was thicker than he had first realized. The weight on his lap was surprisingly comforting. It was warm. The mismatch of colors was pretty and Dream knew it’d be prettier once it was spread out. He loved it.

He said, “Heh. Hogging.”

In the chair across from him, Techno groaned and slapped a hand to his face in an over-exaggerated manner that was mostly to hide the grin. He got to his feet.

“Alright, that’s it. I’m takin’ it back, you’re outta here.”

Those words would’ve once caused a flutter of panic in Dream’s chest, would’ve birthed a snarky comment about wanting to leave, but Techno didn’t mean it. He knew that. Dream tugged the quilt up to his chest.

“No, fuck off, Techno. You made it for me, it’s mine.”

Laughing, Techno bent and tucked the blanket up around Dream’s shoulders.

“Yeah, you got me there, man,” he said. “I’m guessin’ you like it, then.”

The phantom pain had subsided. Dream shifted in the chair and rubbed his chin against the soft fabric of the quilt. A smile slowly worked its way across his face.

“Yeah.” A beat. “Thanks, Techno.”

I think … i miss my wife

I decided to finish this one i left for three months

in care enough au сPuffy once had to choose between herself and her team when she faced God.

She chose herself.

Her son was waiting for her at home, her joy and comfort. She had to come back.

Her rebellious team won't stop her, especially when God offers her a choice.

When сPuffy returns, her duckling's smile is the brightest and most beautiful she's seen in a long time.

Yes, I wrote this inspired by Epic, what can you do to me? I just want to draw parallels between сPuffy and сDream, and their leadership.