DISCONTINUED
(Once, he had been a God among mortals. Now Dream was but a shadow of who he had once been.)
Left to rot in the cell of an unfinished prison, rot Dream did.
Now, Dream lingers as a ghost.
But in death, well-guarded secrets finally see t...
You have a corporeal with his poncho & normal clothes as well as his ghostly form.
I'll try and have Micheal's complete for the next chapter!
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✧ Chapter 1 ✧
【ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟】
Nestled in a small quaint collection of homes within a chilly tundra, three detached homes made of wood, stone and quarts sat in the near centre, and a fourth was burrowed into the side of a mountain face. Fenced off from the dangerous outside, the snow-covered land was homely and friendly.
It was a small and (relatively) peaceful community filled with people who had mostly grown up together.
The youngest of the occupants, a young zombie-piglin hybrid by the name of Michael, rushed out the door of his home nestled in the hill.
But not before he heard his da, Ranboo, call after him, "Don't wander too far now, Michael."
The zombie-piglin hybrid oinked in a show of acknowledgement and began rushing around the snow-covered land, some of his uncle Technoblade's wolves happily playing along with the child's excitement.
Michael giggled, tackling one of the wolves and rolling around in the snow. He got a cheek lick and Michael burst into another round of laughter at the sensation of the animal's tongue on his skin.
Hearing his papa's laughter, Micheal turned to look at him with a large grin.
"Having fun, are we?" Tubbo questioned his son as he skipped closer.
"Yes!" Michael nodded rapidly, scrambling to his hooves, "Play with?"
"Of course!" Tubbo cheered, "Hide and seek again?"
"I hide!" he chirped and when his papa covered his eyes to begin to count, Michael ran for cover. He ran perhaps further than he should knowing it was going to be dark soon and his dads would get worried, but Michael really wanted to win this time!
It's not like he was going really far, right?
Right.
Michael giggled to himself as he darted into the tree line, listening as papa reached six. He stopped short in confusion. Michael sniffed the air as he caught a familiar scent, but with a glance around couldn't see where it was coming from.
