#tw possessive behavour

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

4 for the yandere/p primeboys?

4. "C’mon, smile for me! It’s not like I’ve done anything yet.”

(This is based on my AU where Punz didn’t save Tommy in the final disc confrontation by the way!)

Tommy was so, so hungry.

That’s all he could think about. The gnawing, gnawing hunger clawing up his body, sending waves of pain through his broken body. He’d do anything just for a bite, just for something to assuage the agony and emptiness.

(God, he was so fucking weak. Just leave him to starve and he’d act like an obedient little toy. He couldn’t even be defiant correctly.)

He’s not sure how long it took for Dream to come back. Time was meaningless in here. He’s started counting things by visits. This was the fifty-fifth visit. He’d accepted no one cared by the thirtieth.

Tommy didn’t see Dream when he entered the cell. He just heard the lava parting, the gentle sound of claws against the floor, a soft chuckle. “I hope you’ve thought about your actions last time I visited, Tommy.”

Tommy couldn’t remember what happened last time. He didn’t eat. He didn’t drink. That’s all he could remember. Still, he mumbled out a “sorry” from a dry throat, head buried in his knees as he lay in bed curled up on himself.

Dream ruffled his hair. Tommy tried his best not to flinch away. “I forgive you, Tommy. Just try to be better today, okay?”

“M'kay. 'll be good.” The words in his throat hurt almost as bad as the hunger. He was Tommy fucking Innit, he lived swinging and he always thought he’d die like that. But no, he was a fucking coward, behaving for the promise of food and drink and not letting himself die.

“That’s reassuring.” Dream chuckled. “Can you sit up on your own, or do I need to help you?”

“M' fine.” Tommy insisted as he awkwardly manoeuvred himself into something resembling sitting, leaning himself against the headboard. He looked vaguely in the direction of Dream. Everything looked like too bright blobs, but he got the feeling Dream would get upset if he didn’t, and he really, really, wanted to eat.

Dream gently grabbed Tommy's chin, and tilted his face up to meet the two blank eye-dots on his mask. “Do you really have to look so down? C'mon, smile for me! It’s not like I've done anything yet.” He laughed, and it made Tommy feel sick.

“Yet?”

“Well if you’re not going to listen to me, like you’re doing right now, I’m going to have to punish you.” Dream dug in his claws until Tommy whined. “So go on. Give me a smile!”

Tommy forced his lips up in a twisted facsimile of a smile. It made Dream burst into laughter, so he hoped it was enough. “Good enough. You know what, I think you deserve a reward.” He got something out of his inventory and the smell of food filled the small cell.

Tommy was just about ready to snatch the bread from Dream's hand when he remembered he’d probably be punished for that, so he sat still and waited agonisingly for instructions. Dream laughed again. “Tommy, are you going to ask?”

“Oh- uh, please?”

“Of course,” Dream said, sounding obnoxiously smug and breaking off pieces of bread. He was going to be handfed like some sort of fucking pet again, wasn’t he? Tommy was for once in his life glad that he was so dehydrated he couldn’t cry. He wasn’t going to give the bastard that satisfaction.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

C!Dream is yandere as fuck towards C!Tommy lol. Dream literally

- Focused on Tommy above any other participants when Sapnap dragged him into a war despite the fact Tommy literally barely did anything and stole his shit.

- Refused to give back his shit because he wanted control over Tommy (despite the fact Tommy was very new to the server and was literally just vibing in a dirt shack and wasn’t anyone special).

- Got into a war with him because he wanted his shit back, and instead of giving the kid pieces of plastic literally fought him for them, listened to Tommy’s footsteps to find them when he hid them, and made scam deals, including planning to kill Tommy after he got his discs to get them back (and he did! It’s just Tommy made an enderchest first).

- Was constantly hiding in Tommy’s walls and had one of his secret bases right by Tommy’s house.

- After starting a war with a peaceful nation, specifically targeting Tommy by blowing up his house, addressing his speech to him, and killing him in the final control room.

- Literally allowing L’Manburgs freedom in exchange for Tommy’s discs, which represent extreme power over Tommy.

- Got into another fight over the discs, which involved several fakes and Tommy barely getting them into an enderchest again, again instead of giving back a kid two discs he owned.

- Supported Pogtopia by literally giving Tommy a handwritten letter and insanely good supplies in a chest.

- Continued to follow him around even after he betrayed him.

- Tried to frame him for crimes he didn’t commit to get him exiled.

- Exaggerated the damage of a minor griefing to get him exiled.

- Constantly and insistently pushed for exile for several days, even after alternate punishments that weren’t as severe were suggested.

- During the exile hearings, constantly sent taunting smiles to Tommy.

- Eventually set up an ultimatum that either Tommy be exiled or L’Manburg to be surrounded by obsidian walls and anyone who leaves, equips armour, or trades would be slaughtered, dooming the city to a slow death and still leaving Tommy both trapped and likely shunned and isolated by citizens who blame him, so he’s still in a position where Dream can toy with him and he can’t escape.

- After strong arming Tubbo into exiling Tommy, he immediately broke the terms of exile by changing its severity, length, and parametres, which weren’t under his jurisdiction, entirely to keep Tommy unable to run from him ever.

- During exile, conditioned Tommy to only feel safe when he was around.

- During exile, conditioned Tommy into a complete dependance on him.

- During exile, conditioned Tommy to view being “allowed” to keep things as a gift from him specifically.

- During exile, conditioned Tommy to feel unsafe around any visitors.

- During exile, intentionally lied to and misled others so they wouldn’t visit Tommy.

- During exile, literally killed Mexican Dream for threatening to remove Dream’s monopoly on Tommy’s existence.

- During exile, monitored and destroyed his supplies so he was trapped.

- During exile, manipulated him into genuinely believing no one else cared about him.

- During exile, visited Tommy every day or almost every day consistently for weeks.

- During exile, threatened to abandon Tommy for a week and then immediately checked up on him the same day to find he’d escaped.

- Literally only didn’t re-kidnap Tommy because he was protected by Technoblade.

- Commissioned a prison that was at least in part made to contain Tommy, and deliberately included his triggers into it.

- Blew up a whole nation as a way of “punishing” Tommy.

- Explicitly told Tommy that he finds him “fun” and doesn’t want this “game” to end.

- Literally set up a whole scheme to kidnap Tommy so he could toy with him forever, along with killing his best friend.

- During prison, constantly talked about Tommy and no one else.

- Deliberately orchestrated a situation to trap Tommy in prison with him.

- Only killed Tommy to show that the revive book worked- there’s no way in fucking hell he’d have killed Tommy without the revive book, and I personally don’t think he’d have killed him even with it if Tommy’s refusal to believe him didn’t get on his nerves (since after all he wasn’t fully certain it worked on people!)

- After resurrecting him, immediately suggesting that they use the revive book into experimenting on immortality so that they could be immortal together.

- Revived Wilbur because Tommy was begging him not to.

… It’s not healthy, obviously, but it’s also clear as fuck that it’s not hate.

c!dream apologists: tommy and wilbur villanised dream! they're scum of the earth!

c!dream: revives them both

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

Tommy is some horrifying eldritch god of some sort. A very powerful God.

Dream is just some dude. Just some dude who has attracted the attention of a eldritch god who is unspeakably horrifying. Dream has no idea the very kind guy who saved him from being hit by a car is barely keeping his human form kept together at the sight of this human.

Reverse obsession. Eldritch fuck obsessed with just some dude in a green hoodie.

There was a great god, feared in many a universe and the scourge for thousands more. Cursed child of the Father of Death and the Mother of a thousand Nightmares, the Prince of Chaos was known to have a form that inspired madness, a voice that drove even the strongest men to suicidal despair or complete infatuated obedience, and the undying protection of even more powerful and terrifying beings.

Right now, the Prince of Chaos was happily licking on his ice cream, walking across the street. Sure, he was on Earth to survey the place and subvert it for his families purpose, but he could at least have some fun while finding out the optimal way to start a cult. It’s not like Earth was even an important planet, anyway. Yeah, maybe the Singer of Eternal Hells would get on his case, but he was a bitch anyway. It’s not like anyone else would mind.

Dream was walking home from George's house when some idiot swerved the wrong way while he crossed the road. His life flashed before his eyes, about to die in perhaps the stupidest way possible, when he was suddenly tackled to the floor. He looked up to see the concerned face of a teenager, and when he got up the car must have swerved to try and avoid them, because it had crashed into a building and was currently on fire. Dream immediately decided to get the hell out of dodge, only to be stopped by the strange but very nice kid.

He introduced himself as Tomathy, and looked very confused as to why Dream laughed at it. He said he didn’t have a home, and he needed someone to take care of him, and seemed very insistent on Dream doing that. Dream was… very confused, to be honest, but he did feel for the homeless and definitely not mentally sound kid, so he let him follow him home and stay at his place.

The Prince had decided he liked this mortal. He’d intended on only getting favours and learning about Earth from him, but he was interesting. He was nice, and he had a nice laugh, and he wore a vivid green that reminded him almost of the colour of the Child-Faced Daemoness, and to be honest he kind of missed her when he was on assignments. Blowing up planets with her was fun.

He’d have to ask Father if he could keep this one. The Two Faced Void had a mortal of his own, a cool horned boy called Tubbo who he visited sometimes (not in true form, of course, even with all the protections he was driven half mad already from being around the Void's true form for so long), and he’s pretty sure the Fallen Angel of Virtues and the Spiral through Time did too, so it’d be so unfair if he didn’t get his own.

Dream introduced him to many interesting things about Earth. The Prince liked their games. They had ones for their primitive technology- Dream had played one called “Mah’Ryo Cahrt” with him, and he didn’t quite understand it but it was fascinating. He liked the green one. Dream had also taken him to a game that seemed to be played with paper and dice- apparently his friends played one called “Manhunt and Monsters” and it seemed a bit like the primitive spellcasts done on weaker planets but ineffective and done entirely for fun. He would have to introduce them to his family. The Singer would love them.

He didn't personally have much of an opinion on George and Sapnap, Dream's friends, apart from briefly wishing them dead so no one could take his mortal from him. They apparently thought he was pretty cool, so he’d spare them. Besides, George's sleepy nature (apparently due to something called Naarcolep'shi) would make him a perfect resource from the Dreaming Scourge of Laughter, and the excitable nature and fondness of fire Sapnap had would endear him to the Spiral and the Fallen Angel, so he supposed he could spare them too.

Now, all that was left was to secure his spoils, let the Fox of Deception get to work with his cults, and blow the horn to summon the Blood God himself to lay the heretics to waste. It was strange that such a simple task would lead to him finding something so interesting, he supposed.

If anyone else wants to send in some more AU ideas it’d be lovely and I will make them heavily involve c!primeboys no matter what and again that’s a challenge.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

If you're still doing the c!primeboys aus, one set in the L'Manberg revolution?

Of course! I adore doing them.

Blood pooled at the floor of the Final Control Room, the screams of agony and terror having stopped echoing off the walls and giving way to dead silence. Eret had lost whatever lunch she had, and refused to look at the bodies of her former comrades. Sapnap and Punz leant against the side of the walls, knees buckling and staring in shock at what they’d done. Even George looked a bit pale, used to assassination, but not of children.

Dream watched serenely, pride swelling in his chest. He couldn’t have hoped for this plan to go as well as it did. Three bodies dissolved into nothing as their owners respawned. One did not.

Dream's first thought was panic, looking at the bloodied and battered body of the boy he found fascinating. Tommy couldn’t have lost his first two canon lives without him knowing, right? Oh god, what was the point of all this if Tommy was dead forever-

No use panicking. He bent down and grasped the boys wrist and grinned. It was faint, but there was a pulse. Now, the question was what to do with this opportunity.

He could finish him off (but that would just be a waste). He could let him go (but that would just be boring). He could-

His grin widened under his mask. He could keep Tommy as a hostage, and kill two birds with one stone. He could get the rebels under his thumb and keep Tommy all to himself.

(“All to himself?” What the fuck was he thinking? Tommy wasn’t a fucking object, he couldn’t hoard him like a resource.)

(But he wanted to. Oh, he wanted to so, so bad.)

He picked up the too-light body of his Tommy (his Tommy? He didn’t own him) and took him to Eret's castle. He wasn’t going to keep him in the old “jail,” not only had he escaped from it effortlessly before but it was barely more than a bed and enough room to stand. The Pride Palace was more secure and less restrictive. After all, a songbird would hardly sing in a cage too small for it.

——

Tommy's room in the palace wasn’t anything like his home, and no matter how long he spent a fucking prisoner here he despised it. It was filled with fluffy blankets and pillows and gifts and comforts meant to bribe him into behaving. All he wanted was the feeling of rough cobblestone under his feet and his brother's smile.

Eret wasn’t that bad, honestly. Yeah, he was a fucking traitor, but there was something in the way he looked from the windows, the way he froze whenever his former friends was mentioned. He denied it, but there was something resembling regret there. Besides, he allowed Tommy to take whatever he wanted from the chest and roam the castle grounds to his heart’s content, and that was better than the first few days, where Dream had insisted he be confined to his room. For rest, he said.

Neither were Dream's friends, really. They got sent over to “guard” the new king, apparently to protect Eret from assassination, but it was clear the real reason was to keep Tommy from escaping. None of them really particularly cared about that. George mostly just slept. Sapnap hung out with Tommy, and honestly no matter how much he complained it was nice having a friend other than Dream. Punz just let Tommy leave for the right bribe, which Tommy was pretty sure could be anything. He once gave the mercenary a single dirt block and he looked the other way. It wasn’t even really necessary, honestly, to keep Tommy in the palace. He knew he had trackers on him at all times.

It wasn’t like him nearly dying had allowed him to come back intact, after all. His leg was basically destroyed, broken and twisted to the point of uselessness and unable to heal. The memory of lying in the too-large bed in his prison, so full of potions he was barely conscious and the feeling of the saw cutting through tendons and flesh and bone still haunted him. It wasn’t Ponk's fault really- they were the closest thing to a doctor the server had, but they'd never done anything like that before. Besides, they gave him a big ass lollipop and a weird smelling candle afterwards, and that was kind of cool.

It was only the next day Tommy had met Sam for the first time, and he was honestly kind of fucking terrifying- a creeper hybrid more creeper than human, scuttling about on four insect like limbs and towering over everyone- but he was nice. Nice didn’t mean safe- fuck, it definitely didn’t mean safe, Dream was nice in his visits every day until he wasn’t- but it was comforting. Sam was apparently some redstone prodigy who holed himself up in a mountain in the server to work on his creations, and Dream had hired him to make a prosthetic for Tommy.

Sam had worked surprisingly quickly- he’d had it done within the week- but he’d insisted that he come over every once in a while to check if it was working properly. Tommy's pretty sure it was just an excuse from Sam to make sure he hadn’t been murdered or whatever. He’d told him about the tracker in the leg, during one of his visits. Honestly, it barely phased Tommy. He knew what Dream was like.

(God, one of these days he had to apologise for ever calling Tubbo clingy. He never knew the meaning of that word until now.)

Figuring out what had happened to L'Manburg after he was taken as Dream's fucking spoil of war or whatever was- not difficult, but painful. He’d expected the country to be destroyed, the walls brought down, so that wasn’t a shock, but what was was what had happened to his family.

Tubbo was- quiet. Far too quiet, eyes downcast and always listening. Whenever they met, Tubbo would never be able to look Tommy in the eyes but would hold him tight like he could somehow keep him from leaving if he did. Fundy's talk of Dream, once far too kind and punctuated by the barely hidden blushing of a schoolboy crush, was harsh and angry and betrayed. And then there was Wilbur.

Wilbur, the kind, kind older brother who teased him and ruffled his hair and naively thought that words could prevail over violence. That would give anything for his ideals. He didn’t see that Wilbur when he looked into his brother's eyes anymore, instead seeing terror and anger and derangement. He smelt like cigarette smoke, so strong it made it hard to breathe around him. His clothes were ripped and poorly patched together, his hair too long and eyes with deep deep black bags underneath.

He spoke of violence and revolution and bombs and death, burning the whole server down if it meant getting Tommy back. He’d tried to drag Tommy to his rebel encampment in a ravine somewhere, only stopping when Tommy desperately mentioned he was being tracked. He barely so much as grazed Tommy anymore, as if afraid he’d break him like glass, but the few times he did the touch was possessive in a way sickeningly familiar.

The last time they were able to speak, Wilbur had a manic grin on his face as he took a long, long drag of his cigarette. “Technoblade wrote back, Tommy,” he said, uncontrolled glee in his voice. “He’s coming. We'll get you home, Tommy, I promise.”

The worst part was, even though the idea of being free was something he dreamed about, something he’d hoped and prayed for, part of him hated the idea and said that he was where he belonged right under Dream's thumb.

If anyone else wants to send in some more AU ideas it’d be lovely and I will make them heavily involve c!primeboys no matter what and again that’s a challenge

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

How about an au where punz doesn't show up during the disc War final

That was one of the first AUs I ever planned out in my head, eventually getting refined into my protege!innit AU. So here you go my lovely anon, here’s the concept, slightly refined. (Also, quick warning that Tommy does use some accidentally ableist language in this! Also, this is INCREDIBLY dark)

Tommy clung onto the headless body of Tubbo desperately, sobbing and sobbing and praying for somehow a way for him to come back, his cries echoing throughout the underground vault the only sound. Hands grasping onto his hair, stern but not harsh, barely brought him back into reality.

Dream sighed. “Tommy. Follow me.”

“No.”

His hair was tugged, harshly. “What do you mean, no?”

“No. I’m not coming with you.”

Dream held out the bloodstained axe, dripping with Tubbo's blood. It nearly made Tommy sick to see it again. “You don’t have a choice. Come with me or you will die here.”

“Maybe that's what I want! Maybe I’d rather die and be with Wilbur and Tubbo than be your fucking toy to torture or whatever!” Tommy shouted, the broken voice echoing.

Dream sighed again. “If you’re going to be difficult…”

The axe handle hit Tommy's head. All went black.

He woke up in a cell too dark and too bright, suffocatingly small and blistering hot with the heat of the lava. The yellow orange red mix was mesmerising. It should be so so easy to just touch it and end everything and go to whatever came after. It must be better than being a psycho bastard's personal punching bag.

He passed out from the pain when he tried to stand. He woke, again in the bed in the cell. It was surprisingly comfortable, better than the bed he had managed to put together in exile, and he hated it. That implied a level of permanence to his hell.

Wilbur's coat was gone, he noticed. He was pretty sure he was in a different set of clothes, too. He would not have the time to worry about those things soon.

(Meanwhile, a skull with ram horns and a bloodsoaked red and white hoodie and a patchwork longcoat wash up on the shores one day. They are taken to a home where a half-exploded beanie sits waiting for its wearer, and there are three extra seats at the table that will never be filled.)

Tommy had no idea how long he was alone in the cell. It could have been hours, days, weeks, an eternity. Time meant nothing, anymore. He still felt far too sick to leave the bed, the headache and bleeding from when his head was hit barely getting any better along with him feeling weaker and weaker, desperate for any water, any food.

He was certain he was going to die when he, half conscious, heard footsteps and was sat up on the headboard. Water was held to his lips, his throat and lips so dry he could barely take sips. When he’d finished the bottle, he was hand fed warm bread, so hungry it tasted like ambrosia on his tongue and so delirious he couldn’t even muster the energy to be angry he was being fed like an animal.

When warm hands were moved away, and he heard footsteps on the floor, Tommy let out a confused, animalistic chirp, barely aware what was going on but just knowing he didn’t want to be alone again. A laugh echoed from the walls, and a hand was run through his hair. Tommy leant in, purring like a cat. As he fell back into unconsciousness, all he could do was beg whoever was there in a voice scratchy and barely audible to please, please not leave him alone again.

He didn’t dream anymore. That was too much thought, hurting his head and making him almost sick, though he didn’t have enough food in him to be sick anymore. He just let himself be consumed by the darkness, and he slept well for the first time in a while.

He was alone again when he woke. Almost alone. A ghostly figure sat cross-legged at the lava keeping him prisoner, the green of his shirt almost invisible through the red stained blood, and his head in his hands and not on his neck. Tommy wasn’t sure if he was going mad already or if this was like Ghostbur, but either way he felt less alone with the ghostly form of Tubbo with him.

Ghost Tubbo disappeared when the lava parted, Dream entering into Tommy's prison. Tommy glared at the masked man, and he laughed. “Last time I was here, you were begging me to stay.”

Tommy felt himself turn red slightly at the memory of that, but continued glaring. “Fuck off.”

“Tommy, don’t speak to me like that or you’re not going to be able to eat today.” Dream said, with the tone Wilbur got when he used to tell off Tommy when he was doing something stupid. It made Tommy's blood boil.

“I don’t care,” he said, even as his throat ached and stomach throbbed. “Just let me die.”

Dream shook his head. “You’re too fun.”

Tommy growled. “And you’re a fucking sociopa-“

Tommy's cut off to hands around his neck, claws digging in deep enough to bleed. “I’d advise you listen, Tommy.” Dream said, voice as cheerily calm as always. “Or I’ll make you listen.”

Tommy sputtered for breath when his neck was released. “What do you want?”

“I just want to spend time with my only friend. Is that so hard to believe?” He laughs at Tommy's disbelieving expression, looking for the hidden meaning in the words. “You’re going to make this difficult, aren’t you? You know, things would be much easier if you stopped trying to defy me.”

(By the time Dream left, Tommy was holding a broken nose, black eyed and bruised, starving, and defiance in his eyes slightly dimmed.)

Life fell into a sickening routine. When Dream wasn’t there, Tommy slept. He was too dehydrated to cry anymore, so he just stared at the wall when he was awake. Ghost Tubbo was there, sometimes. When Tommy dared speak to him, he was mechanical, emotionless, entirely dedicated to protecting Tommy but painfully aware he couldn’t do anything but watch.

When Dream was, he’d bring food and water. Most of it ended up discarded, Tommy being deemed as too disobedient to deserve it. Sometimes he gave in and acted good being so desperate and hated himself for it. On those days, Dream talked with him, messed with his hair and hugged him and treated him with a twisted form of the affection Tommy recognised from Wilbur, or maybe Phil. On most days, Tommy was “punished.“

He’s not sure how long it took, but Tommy noticed as he slowly lost sight in one of his eyes as he took more and more blows to the head, how his left arm started hanging completely limp after being broken one too many times, how the web of scars covering his entire body only grew, both larger and deeper.

The first time Tommy died, it was unintentional. His head was hit against the obsidian, and something inside him broke, and he’s dead before he could even realise he’s dying. He wasn’t sure whether the afterlife is better or worse. It’s dark, and empty, and Wilbur is frightening, but there’s Tubbo- the Tubbo he knew, not the dull eyed ghost who as Tommy had learnt from Ghostbur was a separate entity.

It’s a month in the afterlife, apparently, before he’s brought back, the cell a mess of colour and noise and heat and touch and all of it too much, too much. Dream is excited, enthusiastic, asked him everything he can about the afterlife. Tommy refused to talk, and the slap across the face he received was a far, far, worse pain than gouging claws and broken limbs. He talked after that, through pained tears.

After that, it became a part of the routine he grew worryingly accustomed to. Like clockwork, every thirty visits he was killed, and like clockwork, he was always revived after one month in the afterlife, one day outside it. Dream asked him inane, weird questions about the afterlife. Sometimes he took Tommy's blood, sometimes he gave him weird injections. Dream was always weirdly kind on those days, and Tommy grew to long for them in a twisted way. He hated himself for it.

Bruises grew around his neck, refusing to heal. Deep deep cuts on his neck and his wrists stayed open, bleeding slightly when touched. Stab wounds and axe cuts covering his torso did the same. His hair turned white in chunks. Dream started dying it blond. It hurt and got into his wounds on his head. He learnt to tolerate it because when he squirmed and tried to get away it upset Dream and that's worse.

It’s easier to behave, so he does. He barely talked for a while, but he learnt that’s another thing that upset Dream. He bit his tongue and pretended it’s Wilbur, it’s Phil when Dream held him in his arms and ruffled his hair and talked gently to him. One day he brought in a jukebox and played the discs. It reminded Tommy of a time before the cell. He couldn’t remember the colour of grass or how the sunset looked. He hated it. Dream offered him the discs if he behaved, later on. Tommy grabbed them from his hands and shattered the plastic in two, because he didn’t want them, he didn’t want them to even exist because what was the fucking point of caring about anything anymore? Not discs, not people, not anything. Dream laughed and laughed.

(A ghostly teen, head held in his arm, gathered the shards. He stood at the door of a snowy house, uncaring of the pain as his body dissolved in it, not even reacting. When inside, he explains, monotone, to a paling looking angel and a crowned anarchist who’s hunger for blood increased by each word.)

If anyone else wants to send in some more AU ideas it’d be lovely and I will make them heavily involve c!primeboys no matter what and again that’s a challenge.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

if your still doing the c!primeboys au fic suggestions, maybe a lab au

Yeah it’s fun! I love writing them, and I’ve got a lot of free time since my bubble burst in school so I’m stuck at home now lol. Feel free to send in asks about previous AUs too I love em all.

There’s perks that come from power, Dream's learnt. Project Theseus is one of them. In this life, in this identity, he'd managed to get some form of authority over the creation of some government bioweapon. He takes one look at the creature curled up in the tubes, mismatched angel wings and dragon tail and racoon ears and deer horns and wolf paws and demon fangs, but so, so clearly a child, and he decides he can do something better.

He knows so many secrets, so many sins committed by everyone in power. He knows all the entrances and exits and the pathways inside and out in the government lab. And most importantly, he knows a bloodthirsty anarchist and an angel of death who could slaughter a secure lab filled with heavily armed government agents with hands behind their back and a blindfold securely tied over their eyes.

Three blood-drenched figures walk away from a burning, screaming compound, one with a mask and an emerald green hood holding a sleeping mismatched child in his arms, so fast asleep he could be mistaken as one of the dead if it wasn’t for the gentle movement of his chest up and down with his breathing. The masked man grasps him tightly enough bruises will form in the upcoming days, as if he’s afraid the child would be snatched from his grasp, at any second. A crow flies away, a boar leaves into the wilderness, and the masked man and the child are left alone.

Theseus grows up in a gilded cage, but for one so used to a cage without any gold he doesn’t complain. He is talked to and hugged and given gentle soothing words when he is hurt. He's taught and he learns, maths, English, assassination, manipulation, all the basics. He’s fed and clothed and given fascinating new things like toys and books and blankets. When he is a good tool, he’s praised, he has his ears pet and he feels pride swell up inside him.

Sometimes Dream's friends come around and they’re loud and excitable and Theseus thinks they’re the coolest, apart from Dream of course. He gets brought along to one of their little games where they chase each other down once. He wins within seconds, and Dream laughs and it is one of Theseus's most prized days.

Eventually, Dream moves into his own server, and it’s so full of exciting new scents and new people, and new people join every day. One of them is young like him, too, and he gifts Theseus two plastic music discs that he hides under his bed, scared Dream won’t allow him gifts from anyone but him. He learns his name is Tubbo, and he follows Tubbo day after day. Tubbo laughs and calls him Tommy.

But when another person, Wilbur Soot, joins the server and starts a new nation, Tommy is torn. Dream has been his whole life, Dream saved him from the bad place where they cut him up and stuck needles into him. But Tubbo and Wilbur are nice, in the weird way Dream's friends are where they don’t expect anything, and Tommy thinks maybe if he stays with them he'll be able to experience the strange “freedom” talked about so much within his books…

If anyone else wants to send in some more AU ideas it’d be lovely and I will make them heavily involve c!primeboys no matter what and again that’s a challenge.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

Okay, I got something. What if it was platonic soulmates AU but with both Dream and Tommy having someone else as soulmate... (or otherwise Dream having no soulmate at all)

Tommy's stubborn bond with the ram boy must be the one thing stopping them becoming soulmates, Dream decides. So, of course, the only solution is to drive them apart.

He starts off small, encouraging the two of them to destroy the other's stuff in secret for rewards. They do not listen. Subtle whispers and urgings continue to go ignores, so when the ram boy becomes president, greater measures are required. Convincing the ram boy to betray Tommy, exiling him from his home, should have broke it, but Tommy remains ever stubborn, clinging to his friendship like a lifeline. It becomes apparent to Dream that the only way to break the bond would be when the life drained from the ram's eyes…

(Meanwhile, three men sat around a fire, talking throughout the night. Two bonds were branded onto their wrists, to the other two men. Dream remained unaware this was possible, and even if he was, he still wanted to see the ram bleed.)

If anyone else wants to send in some more AU ideas it’d be lovely and I will make them heavily involve c!primeboys no matter what and again that’s a challenge.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

What are your thoughts on Q V and X for the alphabet meme? All /p ofc

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Well, for one, the idea that death would be the end of anything is pretty presumptuous. But no, I don’t think Dream would ever stop tracking Tommy down. And if he dies, well, Dream can always bring him back! He might not be successful, but he’d hunt Tommy down to the ends of the earth and beyond, forever.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Dream does definitely revere Tommy as the source of all attachments and as such the key to controlling the server! And as for winning him over… that’s certainly one approach he took, especially towards the beginning, but it’s something he’s kind of ruined at this point lol. That’s fine though. He’s got an eternity.

V was answered here!