Concordia: Dreamnoblade Oneshots and Songfics

The We Must Love

Fate could be an interesting thing, Techno decided. He's not quite sure if he believes in it, with just how broad the concept is. It gives him rather... mixed feelings. The notion of a predefined destiny isn't as pleasant as it sounds, but at the same time there's something so pleasing about calling it "meant to be". Fate is the sentiment that your life is planned out for you before you even begin to live it, it's the cruel inevitability of where you end up and yet the warm reassurance that there will always be something waiting at the end of the line for you. It is the sentiment that the universe has a plan for you, it's the way you're controlled by puppet strings held in corporeal hands and yet the simple joy of letting them take you wherever.

He's not quite sure if he believes in it, but Dream had always been an exception, after all.

I'm sure it'll be hard to believe everything I say from now on

But ever since the day I met you, strange things kept happening

Techno remembers towering wooden mansions and the grandeur of extravagant ballrooms, remembers elegant outfits and expensive alcohol. He remembers ruling empires of ice and lands unknown. He remembers the way another hand squeezes his own as he pulls it towards the dance floor, remembers the way messy flaxen bangs frame a freckled face in a dip that leaves them both dangling precariously over the floor for a few tense moments. He remembers the way all that is crimson had enamored him so, remembers the way he handed a sharpened dagger to an emerald-eyed butler and demanded for more scarlets and carmines to paint the dark walls.

Whenever I had sad thoughts, you kept sighing

When I walked next to you, my shoelaces kept getting untied

Techno remembers distant childhoods spent running through fields that he had never seen before, remembers quaint villages and quiet nights surrounded by nature. He remembers the beauty of art and writing and the promise of a journey. He remembers the way dark ink stains parchments to be immortalized in leather bounds and bindings, remembers the way words on paper create pictures as vivid as colorful paintings. He remembers the way golds and silvers trace a familiar face exactly how his own fingers want to, remembers the way the constellations pale in comparison to that who is sitting right in front of him on the canoe ride under the night sky.

Did we lose our memories?

In our past or in our future or maybe a different world?

Techno remembers the crimson rivers staining the earth and the Greek fire of desolate wastelands, remembers fingers tipped in gold curling around his weapon's handle and the familiar weight of victory on his back as he descends onto the battlefields. He remembers the blessings of Olympus and the soft touch that bestows them upon him. He remembers the way viscous ichor drips down his trembling hands, remembers the way gods bleed onto blades of grass with dewdrops made of stars like the heavens weep for them. He remembers the way divinity never really leaves even those that choose to be human, remembers the way it feels to be transcend the mortal plane and become equal to a god.

I don't know if something happened

But I do know one thing

Techno remembers the clang of blades locked in a flurry of strikes and the hum of machinery as stage set pieces move around to change scenery, remembers the weight of demon's horns and a crown on his head and the shimmer of pristine white angel's wings in the moonlight from the windows of the throne room. He remembers the allure of the stage and the thrill of secrecy. He remembers the way two voices echo throughout the empty stage in both song and argument, the way tears well up from behind his mask the same way another cries over the remnants of his. He remembers the way the cold barrel of a gun leaves an imprint on his left temple, remembers the way his eyes burn into his memory the sight of tanned holy skin tainted with merlot bites of a forbidden love.

You're gonna love me, I'm gonna become your everything

You'll know once a little time passes, you're gonna, you're gonna, yeah

Techno remembers the simplicity of school life and the giddy sensation of puppy love, remembers the pouring rain bringing two hearts together and the preservation of pride that was so very important to him. He remembers humble households and sleepless nights spent studying endlessly. He remembers the way raindrops splash into puddles on sidewalks and dampen his exposed right size, remembers the way a shiver that runs up his spine not at the cold air but at the proximity of sharing a single umbrella. He remembers the way he plans meticulously over the course of several months just to get what he wants, remembers the way he's thwarted every time in a thrilling battle of the wits as they both try to coerce confessions out of each other in the solitude of the student council room.

Love me, we must we must we must love

You're gonna love me, we must we must we must love

Techno remembers, and remembers, and remembers and it doesn't stop coming. He closes his eyes for the night to escape the present and yet he's only confronted with his past and future and everything in between. Those memories aren't his, not from this timeline at least. Those memories aren't his, they aren't from him but instead different versions of him through several instances of space and time. Those memories aren't his, at least not alone when Dream is so prominent in them. Those memories aren't just his, they're theirs.

Techno remembers, and he knows Dream does as well. He can see it in his striking emerald eyes and in how his blade falters when they're supposed to be fighting, he can see it in the woodland mansion map snuck into his inventory with notes of sweet nothings and in how he lets himself in on quiet winter nights to curl up into Techno's chest. He can see it in the way he never dares to betray him, always remaining transparent in what he wants and in all he deals they make. He can see it in the way they fall into the familiar dance of death and destruction and they burn the remnants of L'manburg to bedrock, falling into the old habits of merciless gods and ruthless murderers and a love language written in blood.

He can see it in the way he pulls Dream in for a chaste kiss at the end of the taxing battle and find himself being kissed back with equal fervor, and at that point the universe just clicks like everything is just right again.

Tell me why you're so familiar the moment our eyes met

Maybe we were enchanted and we lost our memories a long time ago