Fenris

Help me find a Fic, please!!!

Hey guys I'm having a trouble over here, I'm looking for a fics with Techno and Dream I don't remember if it was DNB or just Rivals but… here the plot:

It's Medieval AU (in a way), Dream is the dethroned King of the DSMP/Essempie, because Willburn and Tommy put the kingdom against him and then took the power for themself and their family (Techno and Phil).

When they arrest Dream he didn't fight back and let the revolutionaries take him away.

In this AU Techno go to Pandora to visit Dream for extra infos (if I remember correctly), here both Techno and Dream start developing a friendship with Techno be sure to keep good company to the only prisoner and make sure he eat. In all of this after some chapter we find out that Dream is immortal and the reincarnation of the God of Chaos.

As I said I don't remember if is DNB or Rivals Duo fic, any help is welcome 😊

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dulcamaraze

6 months ago

A dreblr secret santa for @sapnapstummy!

Fun fact: Rabbit and pig has different fur changing seasons and usually pig blows their fur so it came off much faster (?). Idk, just thought that is interesing.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy the silly rivals! They are definitely sharing one common braincell >.<

Also, big thanks to @dreblrsecretsanta for organising the event!

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dulcamaraze

7 months ago

Spirit of a Sword

In an AU where objects can have spirits, Technoblade is the spirit of the sword called Orphan Obliterator unbeknownst to most. Following the execution, Dream runs away with Techno recharging in the sword.

Story for Day 10 (Injured, "I've got you.") of the Christmas Dreamnoblade Event by @alterdnbweek

Also on Archive of our Own. This AU is basically a remix of an old AU i had which i got new fire for after seeing rainystressed's dpurbyfiarsl AU, plus some additional inspiration by one of my favourite Zelda companions Fi.

Commotion came from the area of the stage. It was rather easy to pick out Techno's voice among the others even with Dream and Punz's hiding spot. They had him. They would lock him on display as the anvil fell.

Dream hoped the piglin found a totem of undying with the map he gave, especially considering both their skills with maps. It wouldn't prevent him from dying, but it would prevent it from being permanent and Dream having to use an item, he'd rather keep hidden from all except for Punz for a bit longer.

They both kept watch as things progressed. Until Dream gave the signal and Punz pearled in. The surprise was working, all of them were caught off guard. Dream headed down towards Carl and guided them both to a place near the van where Techno had to spot them and would hopefully then come to him.

But instead of the green flash of life magic or the white flash from visiting death, there was a pink one. Quick and left behind a similarly coloured mist that moved through the cage and past him towards the hole where Dream had planned to lead Techno to. Where his items were.

Dream followed it closely with the horse, blocking off the entry after and ignoring the yells behind him. The mist didn't stop, heading further down to where he had placed the iron armour and other items that Techno could have used, as well as the few items that Dream had already managed to steal back from the butcher army.

The chest with Techno's name on it glowed faintly from inside before dimming.

When he opened it, the sword, Orphan Oblitorator was still faintly glowing before the glow became a shimmer similar to that of an enchantment except for the colour difference. Instead of the purple, it was the same pink as the times before. He chuckled. So undeniably Techno. He couldn't imagine anyone else with that shade.

His suspicions that formed with the mist were confirmed and he didn't know how to feel about it. Maybe relief that he's not the only one. Maybe curiosity. It didn't matter.

What mattered was getting Techno out. Especially now that the piglin couldn't really do it himself unless the sword suddenly grew two legs or wings.

Considering the height the anvil fell from, he estimated it would take more than a day for Tech to reform. A time he would need to either ensure was spent away from enemies' hands himself or have someone he could trust do it.

Phil would be a good option. A long-time and trusted friend of Technos. If only he wasn't under house arrest and it wouldn't be too risky to try breaking him out now. He'd have to wait. Punz and Sam would be other good options. Both trustworthy and dedicated. But both were busy.

He'd probably prefer to do it himself anyway.

The items left for Techno got put back into his inventory before he gently lifted the sword and put it into the sheath around his belt. It shouldn't prevent him from coming back like putting him in his inventory would. And besides, an inventory slot doesn't fit Technoblade. The sheath doesn't really either but it's at least a bit better.

"I've got you," he whispered.

Dream was about to head further down when he spotted Quackity behind him, expression first surprised then souring into anger. "What the- Dream? What the fuck. Of course. Of course, you are here. Where is Technoblade? Did you help him escape? How did- How did you do it?"

The words "I wish" were on his tongue. If he actually had managed to help him escape, if he had any plan for that, Technoblade wouldn't be recharging inside the sword right now.

Subtly he tried to remove the sword from Quackity's eyesight while starting to gesture with his hands. "You really think Techno would need my help to escape? I mean I'm flattered, y'know? But he didn't need me."

"Sure. Sure. So you have Carl just for fun. Wanted another horse whose leather can be swung in front of your face." Dream's grip on the orphan obliterator tightened, still, he refrained from swinging any weapons, least of all swinging that sword. "Where is Techno, Dream? I saw Punz. You told him to disrupt the execution, didn't you?"

"To be fair, Techno has enough to buy Punz himself. He wouldn't need me for that."

"Everyone knows how you two are working together." They know, for now, Dream thought. "So tell me where Techno is and how you helped him escape or this will get ugly. I will even let you keep the horse if you spit it out."

"Hmm. I mean this would be a lot more threatening if it wasn't coming from you." Quackity for all his skill in getting people to join his cause, wasn't a fighter. "So listen. I'm gonna go with Carl and you go back to your country. Got that?"

"I won't let you leave, Dream. Tell me where he is." Quackity demanded as he held the diamond axe pointed to him.

"No. I won't just tell you where he is even if i knew."

"Okay, that's it." Quackity ran straight at him which nearly made Dream want to chuckle. He didn't pay attention to the words exchanged after the first hit. The fight - which could barely even be called that - was over quickly. A few hits with Nightmare and the duck hybrid crumbled to the floor. Breath wheezing from how it tried to still get in air despite the slit throat.

Dream kneeled down, looking Quackity in the eyes. "Don't waste your breath."

Seconds later, the body dissolved. Slowly fading to signify the first life lost and the other two remaining. With flint and steel, he burned the scattered items, only taking those that seemed useful. Tactics from back when he was hunted more widely still were useful.

After a quick check on his surroundings to ensure no more surprise attackers, he started leading Carl again, hoping the faint whispers of "Blood for the Blood God" he could hear were just his imagination. Maybe Technoblade's influence.

At some point, the path opened up more which also meant Dream could go onto the horse again, which he did after holding out a golden apple to it. It inspected the food with a few sniffs before deeming it safe and biting into it while Dream petted it. A beautiful and strong horse. He could see why Technoblade liked it.

He settled on its back and quickly ordered it forward. The rest of the way went by in a breeze despite sticking to the Overworld. Nether travel seemed risky with how they might predict it.

The cabin was soon in view. The moon is by now high up and reflecting the sun's light down onto the world.

He stepped down and fed another golden apple to it. Ignoring background whispers of him spoiling the horse and being soft. Softwastaken. Dreamwassoft. Not the strangest of thoughts his mind summoned. Though they were annoying nonetheless.

There was no one in the cabin except for the animals and enderman Techno was housing. It felt empty without the piglin’s big figure and warm voice. He should be back soon.

But for now, he racked his brain for whatever Punz usually does if he is like this. Keep out of inventory. Keep close or hidden. Repair of broken. Wait.

Techno was still out of his inventory and in his sheat. His plan for now was to stick around till either Techno came out again or Phil escaped which he should message Punz for. See if they can figure out a way. Later.

Dream remembers feeling his surroundings when he was like the piglin is now. He mulled over it a bit as he ventured upstairs and placed Techno on the bed. The blanket was left off of him. He didn't know how, when or where Techno would form, best to keep it uncovered.

Something Punz would sometimes do is fix him if he had any rips in his other form. But Techno's sword didn't seem in need of any repairs. The blade was as sharp as ever and beautifully smooth. The handle provided a good grip even if it was a bit large for Dream. It's design still left him in awe. It was a masterpiece just like its soul.

Which made him wonder how Techno had become like this. Was he born or rather made like this? Or was he cursed like Dream? Or maybe not a curse but a connection through many battles won and much blood spilt that led to his soul possessing the sword after his death?

But if he wasn't always like this when did it change? How long has he been the spirit of a sword? Did-

A squeak interrupted his mind. Something small, furry and white peaked out from the trapdoor before scrambling further up and along till it was on the bed. Dream was about to rush forward but stopped in his tracks when he saw the fox was just curling up on top of the sword.

It was just cuddling with its owner. Wait, does it know that’s Techno? Can animals sense object’s souls when they are in the object? He’s gonna need to test this once he can. Speaking of testing, he meant to text Punz.

You whisper to Punz: did you get away?

Punz whispers to you: yes. only a few minor cuts. how about you?

You whisper to Punz: same on my end

You whisper to Punz: is phil still under house arrest?

Punz whispers to you: yes. want me to get him out?

You whisper to Punz: yes

You whisper to Punz: Techno is like me

You whisper to Punz: currently recharging on his bed

You whisper to Punz: will wait till Phil gets here or he gets back

Punz whispers to you: alright

He looked back to the bed where the fox seemed asleep by now. On the nightstand, he spotted a few trinkets. A smaller bell, a lapis lazuli, a letter, a stone that looks familiar and a book. Curious he came closer till he could make out the title. “Love Across Dimensions”. It didn’t sound like something he could see Techno read. Even more curious now, he opened it to the first few pages and quickly got even more surprised or rather confused.

It turned out to be an encyclopedia on courting rituals in different species ranging from the common human to the rarest ender dragon hybrid. There was a loose page with different hybrid species written down including dragon, goat and avian.

Dream opened the list of contents again and flipped shortly to the piglin section. He got a few sentences in before another ping got him out.

Punz whispers to you: Btw, congrats on the kill

He messaged back a quick thanks and then put the book back where it was. With nothing else to do but wait, he shifted into a wolf to better blend in just in case anyone came in.

Settled beside the bed, he keeps his ears sharp, listening for any threat.

Nothing happens for hours until the wall gets drenched in a pink hue.

Dream glances up to the bed. The sword is glowing, the fox now moved further down the bed away from it. The pink mist from before exits the sword again and shapes into a familiar form.

Technoblade groans from where he reformed again and Dream forgets for a second which shape he took and lets out a yip, drawing Techno's attention.

“Huh? You’re not one of my dogs. How did you get in here?”

Deciding he’d rather not have Techno know he’s a wolf right now, he heads straight down and out, opening the door with little issue. He hears the piglin call out for him but ignores it. If Techno knew, the shifter wouldn't hear the end of it.

And later when they prepare for Doomsday and Techno mentions the wolf with a smirk towards Dream’s direction, he will deny any relation at all. Denial which Techno will not believe.

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dulcamaraze

5 months ago

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?

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