NOT MY POST

I've been thinking of cdream laying across ctechno's chest and completly and efficently inmovilizing him for hours bc ctechno doesnt have the heart to wake him up. What's worse it's that once cdream leaves, cphil comes and does the same, basically leaving him stuck for other three hours more.

Ctechno is the biggest of the three but even he has a weakness when his parthers just sleep close to him like he's not heartless to make them move yk he's a dog/wolf owner he knows how rules go

he ain't make the rules /shrug

can't get up if there's a cutie sleeping on you. whether it's a dog, cat, human, human-adjacent., etc.

It's for a drawing

what's your favorite thing to write on fics? and what's you favorite thing about all the menber of cdoomsdaytrio?

good question!!! i like writing things that are bittersweet and tragic. i like complex emotions and multi-level relationships. i like writing small gestures and everyday activities that reveal a lot about a character and their mindset. i like writing characters who change their minds. i like regret. and i really like medical stuff :)

as far as The Boys:

cdream: he holds his cards close to his chest, and i use that trait as a narrative tool in all of my fics. when cornered or challenged, he's childish. his words can hit hard, but they can also be stuttered and slurred and borderline nonsensical. he tries to reason with everyone. he likes to make deals, but he's bad at it. he wants to be understood, but he doesn't want to open up.

ctechno: i like how genuine and Himself he is. as opposed to the systems and governments that he hates, he's always really straightforward and addresses the grey area that he sees. he really cares about people. he doesn't want to fight, but he sees that fighting can do good, and he's good at it. he loves very deeply. he's protective.

cphil: i keep philza's immortality in mind with every scene i write, and i think that's a lot of fun! he's wise, but he's kind of detached from every situation he faces, and he takes mistakes to heart because he feels like he should know better. writing phil is such a fun thought experiment, and he can be silly and crude at times too.

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.

quick little fanart for the "Face Me and Scream" fic by franticdesert on ao3

thibking about daddy issues, and the absolute deliciousness of a slight dreamza dynamic. Like, a little bit of “what would it take, how would they get there” but also the tension. I think everyone would be a little miserable and slightly drifting closer to insane, but mostly wilbur. Ordinarily i think dreamza has a certain wonderful dynamic, but the deliberateness of daddy issues makes me think

same.

like.

what if they kissed.

you know?

like what if there was all this tension over who is the mirror image of who, and who would be the better son, and who is at fault for what's happening, and cphilza and cdream KISSED about it. what if there was all this jealousy and three Very Insecure Men all navigating their different ideas about family and success and peace, and those two just KISSED ABOUT IT. what if they were tender about it. what if they [redacted]

Rivals Duo Prompt Week

Day 7 : Springtime Revival / Healing

Was thinking about c!Dream and the cat parallels/similarities and remembered two specific cat myths: always land on their feet and 9 lives

The 'always land on their feet' thing works for him both metaphorically and literally. Literally as in he's the best parkourist on the server, he's learned how to fall and has had to run straight from falling, he's a master at staying and landing on his feet. Metaphorically as in at the end of the day, no matter what lengths he's pushed down to or what gets done to him, he is always gonna be back on his feet(even if his feet are shaking).

The '9 lives' is interesting cuz like, it dream himself has 3 lives at the start like everyone else. Yeah loses 2 of them, but in theory, he's never gonna actually die if he doesn't lose his 9nth life - c!Punz

I know that they're both like, myths, and not actually true, but I feel like that myth part of them actually works really well for Dream

yes :) reasons that i like cat hybrid cdream:

"always land on their feet," good at parkour, fast & agile

9 lives, connection to immortality. in many witchy circles, cats are connected to immortality because they lay in a circle. ouroboros-like.

imagine the snake speech being given Not By A Snake, but from a cat who took a swipe at a snake and learned a valuable lesson about how people work. the snake speech happening in the back while the camera follows a cat hunting. you get it.

egyptians thought that part of a cat's divinity came from their duality. they're both gentle and aggressive, which we see in cdream often!

expressing love through comfortability and trust rather than louder displays of affection

thought to be solitary, but actually more social than most people think

most comfortable in Their Territory, even if their territory sucks

most effective land predator

honestly pretty delicate when you really pet them and hold them

sexy

hehe catboy funny :)

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.”

never look your doppelganger in the eyes

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