Chapter Text
Heavy lies the head that wears the crown was a saying that had followed Dream his entire life. He always just laughed, his head lay heavy enough without a crown to weigh it down further he’d leave that to Prince Technoblade thank you very much.
He had become friends with the Prince one night when Dream had been alone still a lowly page boy hacking away at a training dummy when the royal had burst into the courtyard dragging a sword behind him crown sliding off his head.
Dream had stared
The Prince had stared back
Until finally he had adjusted his crown, fiddled with his sword and announced like he owned the place (which of course he did)
“We’re going to spar”
So they did
And they did again two nights later
And again
And again
And again
Until Dream was a Knight and Techno was still a Prince but much older and they started to gather a crowd
A crowd who had money and a thirst for blood.
He got used to the sounds of swords clanging together with the backdrop of
“Blood God! Blood God! Blood God!”
and
“Dream! Dream! Dream!”
As blood coated the courtyard floor..
And it was great, they were happy, best friends.
Dream would watch Techno read to Prince Richie as he repaired his armor. Techno would compare Dream to myth and legend joking about what his mysterious Achilles Heel would turn out to be. They were happy...
Until talk of revolution whispered its way into the castle.
Dream could see Techno grow anxious and tired as the weeks went past and he knew that something was going to happen that Techno who loved his people couldn’t watch a revolution happen and do nothing.
He had not expected Techno to leave, just abandon the castle, his family, Dream and most of all he had abandoned Richie. Richie, poor innocent forgetful, Richie who loved his big brother more than anything. Richie who was now alone. Dream had not expected that at all.
Heavy lies the head that wears the crown, rang through his head as he watched little Richie, almost a teenager now, running around with the same crown that Techno had left behind in his quarters when he ran away.
Though there was revolution brewing outside the palace walls and although Techno had left, the king and queen pretended that everything was okay. Continuing to have lavish parties and starting to care for Richie now that he was Crown Prince.
And Dream stayed because it was his job, because he had to look after Richie, because revolution would hurt the people more than it would help, because...because...because.
When the palace doors finally broke, when the halls were finally overrun, when the rebellion burst into his home. Dream hugged Richie tight and brought him to his parents whispering constant comfort in his ear. The last thing Dream said to the boy that became his little brother was
"Everything's going to be okay Richie I promise, just stay with your parents"
And the last thing Richie had said to him was
"Okay! ...Do you think Techno will come home now?"
And Dream had smiled and smiled and nodded giving the little prince one last hug before escaping back into the battlefield.
Dream remembers seeing Techno sitting on his Father's throne, blood splattered clothes and crazed eyes, sword in place of a scepter clutched in his hand.
He remembers seeing the eldest princesses head on the Queens throne her body thrown carelessly on the rooms tiled floors.
"Dream, Dream, Dream" Techno muttered quietly "still a loyal monarchist I see"
Dream glowered "Still revolutionary scum I see"
The former prince gasped laying a bloody hand on his chest in mock horror "Why sir knight is that any way to speak to a member of the royal family"
He scoffed "You haven't been a royal since you left this palace"
The man chuckled low and dark beginning to stand, twirling his crimson coated blade in his hand "ready to die for your crown old friend?"
Dream smirked charging without a word in reply as he didn't plan on dying to Techno's blade.
Funny.
He did of course, die that is, losing his head to a forceful sweep of the sword that he had bested so many times in play but couldn't when it was life or death.
Death was an odd experience, though Dream though it fitting since he'd always been quite odd.
He had been a foundling, dropped on a doorstep by a mother who couldn't afford to keep him any longer, but that was the unimportant part. The important part was who find him
Retired pirate queen Captain Puffy had found him and decided that since she had nothing better to do with all her riches she might as well raise a child.
He had been given a dagger on his seventh birthday a foreign doubloon the birthday before, he had begun learning to fight as soon as he could walk and had been watching his mother in the pit since long before then. Puffy used to joke that he was the dream child burning his nickname into history. Dream child, Dream fighter, Dream knight.
Dream loved the captain dearly and considered her his mother far more than the woman who left him behind.
But he had not been a baby when left on that doorstep, he had been a child just old enough to have memories specifically one memory. The whisper of a woman perhaps his birth mother.
"You, my darling have god blood and godlings become kings"
He never knew what being a godling meant, he was an amazing fighter but his mother was a pirate, he could last a little longer than the average knight but that was just training. The status of godling only became important after death.
Death was a void, she sat high on her throne of nothing. She was not a woman merely woman shaped staring Dream down with eyes he couldn't see but knew were there.
"Sir Dream" her voice would have sent shivers down his spine if he wasn't already shaking
"You...are a complicated case"
He couldn't reply even if he wanted to the void seemed to rip the air out of his lungs.
"It would be easy, you become a ghost search for your attachment be at peace with yourself and your life and move on when you are good and ready" she seemed to roll her eyes "but no godlings ruin all our procedures, we have a system you know, paperwork to be completed and just because you have fancy blood you mess it all up..."
She continued to rant for what felt like centuries but was probably more like ten minutes.
"Anyway because you're a godling I can't make you a ghost, that much power in an apparition could overload you. I don't know I slept through that meeting. Perks of an unperceivable form"
Looking down upon Dream, she sighed.
"How would you feel about being a demon?"
He couldn't answer
"Great!"
And suddenly the void was gone.
Dream's death as a demon was interesting.
He'd discovered after a couple hundred years that humans had begun to call him 'the smiling one' because of the eternal grin etched into mask he wore. He found it ironic that because of his name he was summoned so very often, foolish humans thinking that he was kinder when in fact anyone else would have been a better choice.
Dream had a unfortunate tendency of killing the people he made deals with, but really it wasn't his fault that they were so reckless with their wording.
And that was how he did things for centuries until one night he was summoned again
There's always a pull in one direction or another when someone's summoning him. Sometimes it's up, sometimes it's down, sometimes it feels like both at once. The point is that he always knows when he's about to show up in someone's dingy basement, or a barn, or some abandoned house that people say is haunted by ghosts. He knows, and he's learned to adjust to it. Showing up in a basement with someone's dead body (or like, a dozen) laying in the corner stops getting surprising after a while.
So when he got summoned and showed up in a high-school library of all places with three teenagers staring at him in shock like they thought it wouldn't work and two ghosts hovering just behind them, he can admit there was an initial shock there and he's glad that his mask covered it.
Godling's don't show vulnerable emotions, after all. They'd explained that perfectly well after he'd died.
The first boy he saw was sitting cross-legged on the floor and looked absolutely feral with a head of messy blonde hair. He was wearing a green bandanna around his neck, eyes wide and glinting just slightly. He kind of reminded Dream of himself, but there was an air of naivety to him that he'd never had, and Dream would be lying if he said he didn't envy it.
The second boy he saw was sitting in a chair with brown hair and wide brown eyes. He looked innocent, but the healing bruises and tape around his fists were tell-tale signs of a fight, and though he looked beat up he very obviously won by the lack of any sort of scabbing. Dream learned not to underestimate his opponents a long time ago, and though he was pretty sure he wouldn't be fighting this kid he could appreciate a good fighter.
The third and final boy had blonde hair and two different colored eyes. He looked a little proud of himself, and Dream had to assume he was the one that summoned him because of the familiar book resting in the boy's hands. He was tall, too, taller than Dream, at least.
The ghost behind the blonde didn’t look that excited about the fact that a literal demon was standing in front of him and his friends. He was wearing Serf’s clothes and a guitar was strung on his back. Honestly, the one in front of him kind of looked like a distant relative. He wouldn’t have been surprised if they were.
The ghost behind the brunette held a bottle of water in his hands, but it wasn’t open yet. He looked a little entertained by Dream's presence, but nothing more and that made Dream feel a little on edge.
They looked absolutely ridiculous, the lot of them, so Dream was actually kind of curious what they summoned him-
"Hey, Ranboo," a familiar voice said. It made Dream’s heart drop and his fight or flight instincts flare up in a sort of primal instinct to keep himself alive. He turned to the voice only to find exactly who he thought it would be. Regal clothing and all, although the bandages around his eyes is a new addition. "Have you seen-"
"You!" Dream yelled, pointing at the newest addition to the room. He could feel his blood start to boil, but he knew that he couldn’t leave this stupid fucking pentagram during a deal. Those were the rules, and he has never hated them more than he does now.
"Oh no."
The boy with the two different colored eyes turned back to Techno, the Blood God, with a raised brow, “Blade, you know this guy?”
Techno shrugged, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, “Eh… sort of?” the ghost in the Serf clothes snickered at that.
Dream lost his shit.
“Sort of? Fucking sort of?! We were best friends and you took my fucking head off!”
“Yeah.” Techno said, a bit awkwardly. “Sorry about that.”
Dream absolutely hated that he was just apologized to by Techno of all people. The crown prince, the Blood God.
“Although it is kind of your fault for being on the wrong side of the fight.”
And there it was
“I swear to the fucking Gods that I am going to-”
“Oi, oi, oi!” A shrill voice yelled out, gaining Dream’s attention after a flinch. Christ, what teenager had a voice that can get so ear grating? “As much as I would love to watch you threaten the blade, demon dude, you’re setting the fucking carpet on fire! I promised George we wouldn’t break anything!”
Dream looked down to his feet and, sure enough, the carpet was on fire. The candles in the pentagram melted down to nothing but wax. He took in a deep breath to calm himself down, the flames receeded once he was no longer on the verge of pouncing.
“That’s what I thought.” the blonde mumbled, and Dream almost set the carpet on fire just to spite him.
“Right,” the brunette said, “Tommy why’d we bring him here, again?”
The blonde, Tommy, turned to his friend, “Because, Tubbo, Ranboo thought he couldn’t do it and I’m not letting my brother think of himself like that.”
“I am literally anything but your brother.”
“I’d make a gay joke,” the ghost with the water bottle said, “but you guys are like six years old.”
“Oi!”
“Fuck off, Schlatt.”
“I’m literally taller than you.”
“Anyways!” The last ghost said, looking at Dream with intrigue for the first time since he showed up, “You mind telling us how you know the blade and why he decapitated you, or…?”
Dream opened his mouth to speak when the library door burst open,
“Tommy!” the newcomer yelled, and Tommy cringed. Tubbo and Ranboo looked away, as if that would save them from the impending lecture. Dream couldn’t take his eyes off of him.
A man walked in with brown hair and pale skin, glaring at the three teens. Ranboo, the tallest of the group, started whistling to himself.
“I thought I told you no more seances!”
“Thought you said he knew?” Dream said, watching the man march across the library.
“Lying is a natural part of life.” Tommy said as the man looks down to the pentagram where the carpet was burnt to a crisp.
“What the fuck!” he yelled, voice cracking.
“George calm down!” Tommy yelled.
“You calm down!”
Tubbo turned to Ranboo, “Verse thirteen!” he yelled, and Ranboo fumbled with the book to get to the right page beginning to chant.
The air shifted slightly, and Tommy pointed at Dream yelling about how it was his fault. George asked if Tommy thinks he’s actually stupid enough to fall for that.
Dream decided that because George is in the pentagram, and he didn't really feel like sharing the already confined space, he’d push him out himself.
“What the-” George yelled as he stumbled, turning around to face the culprit.
“Who the fuck is that?” He asked Tommy. Jesus, does this guy do anything but swear?
“That’s…” Tubbo began, before turning to Dream. Techno is staring at the ground in thought, and it seems like he’s not tuned into the conversation at all, “actually we don’t know your name.”
Dream sighed, running a hand through his hair, “Dream.”
George furrowed his brow, “Bullshit. No way your name is Dream.”
“Took the words right out of my mouth, Gogy.”
“Shut up, Tommy.”
Dream narrowed his eyes behind the mask, “It’s Dream. Always has been, always will be.”
George snorted, “That’s unfortunate.”
Dream decided that he hates this guy
George stared at him until Ranboo took a loud deep breath and finally stopped reading and suddenly the pentagram fades away. Dream 's dragged by some unknown force across the room towards the irritating mortal
"Ranboo? That's not what's supposed to happen!" The serf called slightly panicked
Ranboo looked down at his book before snapping his head up in shock
"Shit."
Tommy shouted "What? Ranboo what did you do?"
He squeezed his eyes shut in a way that was reminiscent of what Richie used to do when he made a mistake.
Techno groaned "what did you do?"
George was flicking his eyes, panicked, between Dream and the group. Dream remained silent wanting to figure out what was going on before doing anything.
"I-" he sighed pointing at the title of the page he had been reading from "this says binding not banishing"
All of the group looked at him before starting to complain. Loudly.
“Ranboooooooooooooo” Tubbo groaned
“I’m sorry I’m sorry”
Dream on the other hand was panicking, binding he knew that meant. He wouldn't be able to leave this plane, wouldn't even be able to stray far from this frail idiot mortal. He needed a plan to get rid of the binding and quickly. His thoughts were suddenly cut short by a yell
"SHUT. IT."
The library's sudden silence rang loud as George breathed deeply
"Can someone please tell me that the fuck is going on"
All the mortals in the room turned to face the one they called Ranboo.
“Why me?”
Tommy glared at him “you fucked it up you explain it”
The boy sighed before turning to George closing his eyes and taking a second to gather his thought.
“Dream is a demon and when I was chanting just then I performed a binding instead of a banishing. Which basically means that the demon is connected to the nearest available mortal.”
George took the demon stuff surprisingly well and instead of freaking out about the supernatural asked “why did it attach to me? I wasn’t the closest to it?”
Ranboo nodded “Yeah but we’re not available because we have attachments already”
George closed his eyes and sighed loudly “Okay i have a demon attached to me now ”
“Yep”
“Can you fix it?” Dream brought his thoughts back to the conversation desperately hoping that they could fix it and he could go about his business and never have to think about this mortal or Technoblade ever again.
Ranboo’s face twisted “Uhhhhhhhhh you see, um i- kind- okay so-”
“Ranboo.” the ghostly prince said
“Right! Right okay so technically yes just not right now because i haven’t completely translated the rest of the pages yet it’s probably a verse 14 or 15 because i haven’t translated either of those and-”
“-Okay so nobody else can see this thing-”
“Hey-”
“Shut up, nobody else can see it?”
“Other than us and you, no”
“And you can figure it out?”
Ranboo shrugs “Eventually yeah it’s going to take a while though”
George sighed “Fine that’s fine! Now out, you’re so lucky the school is scared of you”
Tubbo laughed and picked up a bag off the floor “Thanks George!”
Tommy quickly followed “Yeah thanks Gogy” their respective ghosts trailed behind them. The one with the water bottle was quietly laughing and the serf was just shaking his head.
Ranboo lagged behind and so did…Technoblade
“I’m sorry George! I really didn’t mean to”
“It’s fine, just try to fix it soon? Please this guy seems annoying”
“Hey-”
“I mean…” Technoblade muttered
“I will wipe you from this plane of existence i don’t fucking care if you’re already dead” Dream growled to the confusion the ignorant mortal he was bound to.
“Welp I’m going to go before Techno and the demon kill each other again”
And with that the teenager left the room his royal highness Prince Technoblade following behind.
Well, Dream decided that if the Ranboo kid couldn’t free him now the next step to get rid of the binding was to get rid of the thing he was bonded to. Following George home was uneventful because he wouldn’t say anything he was silent. Only speaking to tell Dream to be quiet or to stop bothering him.
And so he started to trip George up at zebra crossings and let things left simmering burn hoping for fires. He was unfortunately unsuccessful, George was irritatingly good at regaining balance and was far too lucky for a normal mortal. But that was what he was, completely and utterly annoyingly human.
After another attempted and failed murder attempt George finally snapped.
“Why?” he asked calmly after catching Dream trying to start a fire.
“What do you mean”
“Why do you keep trying to kill me?”