C!dream Did Nothing Wrong He's Just A Silly Guy Who Cares If He Killed A Stupid Child Deserved

It had been a habit during Manberg and New Lmanburg. For all his faults, Dream was reliable when Tubbo needed him to show up

So when an emergency appeared, like a sinkhole opening by their crop patches or a sudden flood licking at the floors of the city, Tubbo would set up a spell by his shrine and pray.

It was a simple thing, not much more then a circle of salt and a candle, but Dream would be there in five minutes no matter what. Even after Tubbo called him over a few times to help practice his speeches.

Those times almost feel like a past life now. But still, after Tubbo had talked himself in circles for hours trying to think of a response to Jack's many needless complaints, when it was time to leave a new bowl of fish jerky on the shrine he found himself looking for a candle.

There's something almost embarrassing as he stops in the middle of the hallway, a box of matches already in his hands. Dream had been a comfort, sure, but he was also Dream. Yes, he was the God Tubbo prayed to, whatever, but him being Dream was always more important.

More then that, would he even come? It had been a month since the prison break, and no one had seen even a trace of him.

On the darkest nights, the one where Tubbo would not let Tommy walk out the door, he admitted that he was expecting Dream to abandon them. To sink back in the wild and snap the threads connecting them to him and to leave them fully human as they were born, yet somehow less who they were.

Tubbo sighed, hopping and switching his weight from one hoof to another before finally deciding to say fuck it.

Ranboo was staying in the arctic commune today, and Michael had been asleeo in bed for hours already. When would there be any chance as perfect as this to do something stupid?

He put the plate on the small shrine by the window, placing the candle on the floor in front of it and making a circle of salt around it.

He lit the candle, giving a prayer that was too well done for how much time it had been, and sighed as the candle goes out by itself as he finished the words. Dream probably was not going to-

"WHAT IS GOING ON?!"

Tubbo screamed, his limbs locking in place and barely allowing him to see his front door slammed open, Dream standing there with wide eyes, completly nude except for the fur thrown over his shoulders and dripping water onto his floorboards.

"wha-"

"WHY DID YOU OF ALL PEOPLE CALL ME ARE YOU FUCKING DYING??"

Every cdream relationship/ship is so angst filled that people would eat it up but nooooooo

do you have any,,,post prison mute dream stuff??? or like, severely quiet, silent and obedient dream shtuff?? and the consequences thereof??? bc im reading your drabbles and i am in literal awe

aww, thank you so much !! yeah selectively mute dream post prison is absolutely a hc i love and write smtimes - it’s already been suggested in canon, and it’s super fun to play w/ in post-canon works. here’s some fluffy syndicate!dream bc gosh knows we need it after the angst that we’ve been getting 

tw: implied torture, panic attacks, trauma - all v short mentions. this one’s definitely on the lighter side! :D

“I didn’t know you knew sign.”

Dream startles, arms flying to cover his face, and the crow he had been signing at squawks angrily when it turns towards Phil. He ignores its chatter, smoothing his own flinch behind a smile, lowering his wings, bringing his hands, palms up, in front of him at his waist - this song and dance has become all too familiar in the weeks that Dream’s resided with the Syndicate, and Phil is nothing if not patient.

Slowly, the boy uncurls from where he’d huddled into himself, arms clasped firmly around his ribs like someone will try and take them from him if he doesn’t hold on tight enough (and maybe, Phil thinks, imagining the messy lattice of scars underneath Dream’s loose-fitting hoodie that he has only seen a few times since they brought him over, someone has - but those are thoughts that are better left untouched for as long as he can manage it.) Dream’s eyes raise, flick over his face, his breathing quieting down from the discordant rattle it had been, and tentatively, ever slowly, he raises his good hand in a loose fist, letting it bob up and down. Yes.

Phil settles into the armchair across from him, raising his own hands. His fingers feel clumsy, but the memories come back with more ease than he would’ve expected - I know a little. Dream’s eyes don’t quite brighten, but his shoulders fall down from where they’d been hunched up to his ears, the hand he keeps tucked to his chest trembling slightly less, and it’s as much as a win as he’s ever going to get.

The silence stretches, familiar in its awkwardness, and Phil stifles a grimace as he forces long-forgotten memories to the surface. Dream’s hands, from what little he had seen from the doorway, had practically flown as he spoke to the crow still sitting by his right side - obviously practiced even with the still-healing injuries tracing over both arms. How did you learn?

We- He hesitates, left hand trembling violently, before pushing on, we all learned with- he signs a C, then lifts his hands to his head in a sign that Phil vaguely remembers as being the one for deer. Dream must see the questions written in his expression, because his cheeks flush as he backtracks. C-A-L-L-A-H-A-N, he finger spells, and Phil nods. That makes sense.

Some of the crows in the house must have noticed Phil’s arrival, because they storm into the room from the doorway, awkwardly hopping across the door with their wings waving by their sides as they eagerly voice their displeasure at the lack of attention. He’s not in the mood to pick out the words between their angry caws, so he simply watches as they scatter all over the room. Something almost like a smile tugs at Dream’s face as he watches them enter - the kid has grown inexplicably fond of both his flock and all of the assorted animals that Techno drags back into the house whenever he goes out, and Phil has long since resigned himself to being outnumbered one hundred to one by a literal army of mobs wherever he goes. Some of the crows had been pretty wary of Dream at the beginning, but after a few weeks more or less the entire flock has become viciously protective of the kid, sufficiently won over by gifts of head scratches and berries and various shiny things. Sure enough, the birds form a dark, squawking circle at Dream’s feet, a few flying up to tug impatiently at his clothes, and despite the (very obvious) favoritism, Phil smiles; the flock is good for Dream, as annoying as they can be.

DADZA, one calls, its lone cry soon echoed by the entire group of fluttering feathers gathered on the floor, DADZA AND DREAM DADZA DADZA. Phil laughs, a familiar warmth and exasperation filling his lungs, and he turns his attention back to Dream.

You up to some more? He tries; it’s a chance, for sure, and he brushes away the creeping anxiety crawling up his neck; he doesn’t want to make Dream panic, hopes that he’s doing the right thing. I could always use the practice.

Quiet, once again, only broken by the murmurs of his birds eagerly awaiting Dream’s answer as the boy rocks side to side in deliberation, and Phil is halfway through working out a frantic you don’t have to if you don’t want to when Dream raises his own hands.

Sure, he signs, a forced smile on his face but eyes still clear and bright, why not?

Somehow, they end up in a bastardized version of twenty questions, surrounded by birds that do not hesitate at any chance to voice their own opinions. They work through favorite colors (green), favorite flowers (roses for Dream, peonies for Phil), favorite mob (Phil answers this with a pointed definitely-not-crows, staring at the flock who have been shouting over themselves naming different colors for about five minutes, which immediately makes them devolve into screaming caws and divebombs at the edges of Phil’s cape that leave him thoroughly occupied for the next ten minutes), and at some point Phil falls further into the cushions of his chair and Dream’s legs lay against the sofa instead of being drawn up to his chest and it’s almost normal.

By the time Techno finds them, they’ve forgone structure all together, Dream watching intently as Phil signs out an embellished tale of one of the Antarctic Empire’s exploits with a crow held gently in his hands. Techno’s voice behind him startles him bad enough to send his wings snapping outwards, feathers standing on end, but Dream doesn’t react much beyond a twitch of his lips - he must’ve seen the piglin hybrid and tag-teamed to prank him, Phil realizes with a half-hearted grumble. Techno’s eyes sparkle mischievously, definitely planned, then.

“Hi Phil, Dream,” Techno shrugs off his cloak and drapes it over the back of Phil’s chair, “Looks like you’ve been busy. Can’t say I’m not feelin’ a bit left out, though; Phil, you never told me you knew sign language.”

“You never asked, mate,” he quips, even as Dream signs animatedly from the corner of his eye. T-E-C-H-N-O-L-O-S-T.

Techno narrows his eyes. “I get the feelin’ that you’re messin’ with me, nerd.” Dream blinks faux innocently, smiling wider, and Phil picks up on the bit. Oh, this is fun.

He can’t understand us, he assures Dream, feeling a wicked smirk of his own growing on his face. So what do you think for dinner?

“Phil- the betrayal!” Techno splutters, voice going high and pitchy, and that reaction alone would’ve made the prank more than worth it - but Dream’s shoulders shake, eyes glittering as his fingers fly almost too fast for Phil to catch, and oh, that’s laughter, tiny, breathless giggles falling from his lips, and Techno must catch it even as he begins to berate the voices in his head, “This is not a bruh moment, Chat, don’t you start-”

Stew? Dream signs, still snickering, and he looks happy, more than Phil has ever seen him, the sight of him smiling and bright-eyed with amusement almost enough to cover for the gaunt quality of his face, the pale scars left all over his skin.

Of course, mate, Phil signs back, throwing in a do you think T-E-C-H-N-O ended up lost in those same woods again for good measure, rewarded when it sends Dream into another round of giggles. Techno grumbles without any real heat behind it, plopping himself down in the remaining chair.

“Ok, nah, no more of this exclusive club; you guys are teachin’ me this tonight before Chat loses it - yes that was an insult, don’t you start it with the E’s,” and Phil laughs, hard, the flock cawing and beginning to spam E on their own, for some reason, and Dream signing through the alphabet with the biggest grin on his face, and-

“Oh, Prime, this is going to so scuffed,” Phil says, breathless, his warning unheeded as Techno finishes his rant at Chat to focus on Dream.

And it is scuffed - it is so fucking scuffed, between Phil’s lackluster memory and Techno’s frequent interrupting to quiet down an extremely rowdy Chat and the incessant calls of the flock further egging them on, but it’s warm and Dream doesn’t stop smiling and Techno looks more relaxed than he has in weeks and the helpless, singing urge of protect protect protect that has lived in Phil’s head ever since Techno had carried Dream, beaten and bloodied and broken, through their front door finally, finally, begins to quiet down.

He tunes back into the impromptu lesson - they’ve finished the alphabet, seemingly having moved onto common words and objects, and Dream- hesitates, raises his hand, all five fingers drawn together, to the corner of his mouth and then pulls it back. Home, he signs, moving to fingerspelling, H-O-M-E. Home.

For a moment, they’re all quiet, Dream’s hand still raised by his face, even the crows falling silent as they all stare at each other. Phil watches, breath caught in his throat, as the planes of Techno’s face soften, the teasing edge of his voice, for once, leaving. “Yeah, nerd. You’re home.”

Home, Dream signs again, then again, looking up, eyes bright, hopeful. Phil thinks, proudly, that it looks like a new beginning. I’m home.

If you told me this was cdream when I was younger I would’ve laughed in your face

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.

was doodling around with some later-stage c!Dream from my mad.oka au :D

Maybe c!Phil doesn't know, the mask is always there to protect c!Dream's face. Most don't ever see it again after the rebellions and revolutions start. Maybe he finds out after Prison - when he's rescued the boy and heard of all the atrocities committed against him. Washes away the blood and gore to find a pale younger version of himself. And truly understands the horror.

NO STOP because i do headcanon this. i like to think cdream was careful to make sure that no one saw his face, and after sam took it from him in the prison, there was nothing left to hide. phil wouldn't see him until after the breakout. a pale, small thing-- a bit uncanny valley from his own memory of looking in the mirror in his youth. THIS is the monster his son hated, THIS is the one he called monster. this starved boy who looks like his father, after enduring the exact treatment wilbur would say he deserved

New horse

[Dont let them take me, chapter 9]

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. 

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