Dream SMP oneshots (98% Dream Centric) [Closed]

Blood packt pt4

Tw for drugged like state and slight manipulation.

And the guy didn't tell him his name but Dream knew it already because they were famous in the area he lived.

The Crow coven, and he was the third oldest member, Technoblade. No one really knew much about the family except that it wasn't the biggest. The two kids he saw in the alley must be the new fledlings everyone was chirping about. Tommy was the loud bloke, and the brunett had to be Tubbo. There was another, Ranboo, if Dream remembered correctly.

The older generation consisted of two elders, Philza Watson-Craft and Kristin Watson-Craft, Technoblade, and a dude named Wilbur. That's all Dream knew. That's all everyone knew in reality, and it was fine.

Dream was pulled out of his toughts by a familiar pressuring force. He froze in his sitting position, eyeing the door. And soon after that, knocking was heard. Why was the anchient knocking? It didn't make sense. It was his territory, and Dream was but an intruder, hostage, guest? He wasn't sure himself. The door opened with a silent kreack, and cloudy green met deep purple-ish blue. The two stared at each other for a moment before Dream remembered his position. He bared his neck - a sign of submission - shoving that he was completely at their mercy and that he recognised this. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he forced his breath to even out. He waited for the ancient to do something. To command him, to hurt him, to dry him from the blood that pounded under sickly pale skin, but instead soft words hit his ears, flowing like hentle water from a reek, creeping into his brain like soft roots of a beautiful flower.

"Calm now, mate. You are in no danger. As a guest of our coven, no harm will fall to you." The vampire said, stepping to the side of the bed, cold eyes looking at the boy, inspecting his body, searching for injuries. His eyes linger on the scarred neck, a memory of a past foster home, before studying the shining blond hair and the half lidden emerald eyes. Dream relaxed back shortly after the coven leader closed his mouth, magic keeping his mind in a blissful fog.

He felt comfortable, full, and happy. It was not familyar, but welcomed regardless. It was a couple minutes later, when Phil sat beside him checking over his injured foot, did he realise what had happened. He was thralled by the elder vampire, a power every undead possesses. It allows them to control mortals and their fledlings. Dream should be angry. He should be furious that they could  puppett him around any time they want. He should be scared of what they would request him to do. He shouldn't feel relieved at the thought of not having to make choices of his own. He needs to fight the lull of magic sheeping into his brain.

But he fought in his whole life. He fought foster homes that hurt him, he fought for food and shelter and warmth on the street, he fought rouge vampires wishing to kill him, he fought other humans wishing to take away all he had. He fought for a cardboard to sleep on. He fought for his right to live.

And now, he was full, clean, and laying in a comfortable bed. He was warm and content. The want to fight left him while gentle long fingers combed through his hair, piercing blue eyes looking at him so softly like no one ever did before.

He couldn't help but lain into the touch, savouring the coolness of pale skin that wandered from his blond locks to his face, cupping his cheek softly, like sone would a fragile glass. Dream felt a single tear escape his eyes. The thumb that caressed the soft and warm skin slowly whiped it away, long fingernail touching the surface but not hurting. Not leaving any mark, just a feather light touch was all Dream felt.

"Oh dear child, you have been through so much." The human opened his eyes. When did he close them? And gazed into the diamonds that swirled with galactic purple. It was hypnotizing. Crows sat around them, and Dream could recognize one he shared one of his lunches years ago. When he was at a bad house. The crow had a white spot on the top of its head. But the fog that seemed to not leave his head blocked any furter toughts about it. He just nodded, weak and uncertain. He wanted the pink haired man. Technoblade. He was handsome. And warm. Much warmer than a vampire or a human should be. Dream felt way too cold for way too long. The pinketts warm was a blessing.

"We never incroduced ourselves." Philza said, gaining Dream's attention.

"You don't have to. I heard about you. I just pieced togedher the rest." The blond said, hoping it wouldn't upset the vampire.
"I'm Dream." He added hurriedly to ease the anger that could bubble up from the creature any moment.

"Ah, you are such a smart human. So inteligent and brave." The man praises him, and Dream effectively melts. He wants to believe this man. He does believe him. Philza is old, older than this town itself, and therefore, he is wise. If he says that Dream is smart, then he is. He felt like a kid, and it wasn't a bad feeling. Sleep slowly pulled at the edge of his vision, eyelids far too heavy.

So Dream slipped into unconsciousness once again.

There we go, have an ice day. Buh baiiiii.