where like dream kills the reader and it's just angst
Warnings: blood, death, cursing
. . .
The brilliant gold of the totem shines as it falls slowly to the ground, mocking the man ominously. His hand flies forward hastily to try and grab the item. It slips through his fingers, the cool metal just barely brushing against the tips of his digits, crashing against the floor below.The emerald of the totem's eyes stare into his own, while it shatters into millions of tiny pieces. Philza scrambles forward, grasping at the shards frantically.
The gold remains cut into his palms, the blood dripping down his skin. He tries to reassemble the broken totem, his movements becoming more rushed with time. With many shards in his hands, he rushes over to your fallen figure. He clasps your limp hands, shoving the pieces into them. Nothing happens. Blood mixes together and the hybrid tries to push the broken totem closer to your body. He is whispering, softly to himself in between his sobs and hitched breaths. One of his bloodied hands moves to hold your cheek, tapping lightly against the skin to try and keep you awake. Your eyes flutter open and close, groans pushing past your lips. The wings on your back curl into your body, shaking with you.
He huddles over you, hugging you close to his chest. His damaged wings try to spread out in an attempt to protect you both. A heavy boot lands on his shoulder, pushing roughly against him. It pushes down harder when he doesn't react, the heel digging into his skin.
"Just give it up old man, it'll be less difficult that way." A cold voice rings out, slightly muffled behind the perpetrator's mask. The crimson blood coats his outfit, contrasting against the green of his hoodie. A splash of the liquid lays on the porcelain mask, making the etched smile appear menacing.
When Philza doesn't respond, the masked man slams his boot down on the man's shoulder. He falls slightly, crying out when the boot lands on his wing. Shakily, he raises himself off the ground, glaring at Dream. The bastard couldn't just leave the two of you alone.
"You hurt them enough, Dream. Leave, we won't cause you any trouble." His voice is stern to hide the fear in his soul. The winged man only has one life and so do you. Both beings granted immortality, but at the cost of resurrection.
Dream laughs loudly, the sound eerie rather than cheerful. He lifts his mask slightly to show the manic expression boring into his face.
"Cause me any trouble? I don't think you realize the situation you are in." The axe in his hand points at Philza's neck, the cold netherite grazing the skin. "You don't have the power to be making requests." His attention turns to you, a sickening smile widening at the sound of your strangled gasps. The few blows you took so far, leaves you defenseless, so weak. The view is one Dream would watch for hours if he could: two powerful hybrids near death, one begging for him to stop and the other floating between worlds.
He attempts to take a step forward, grimacing when Philza swings a sword at his upper body. The older man stumbles about, moving with emotions rather than logic. How pitiful, how annoying.
"I said, to knock it off." Dream slams his shoulder into the winged man, swinging his axe right after. He doesn't stop raising his axe until Phil lays on the floor below, bloodied and mangled. The blonde still tries to reach for his sword, choking when it is kicked far away from his body. He lays on his stomach, his senses blurry and limbs dreadfully tired. He has to force himself to keep his eyelids open, watching hazily as Dream walks over to your body. Soft whispers of protest escape his mouth, but he can't move.
"Get up. Please, get up." He wills you to stand, hoping you'll get away. Dream inches closer.
"You have to get up, now." Dream grasps the axe with both hands, lifting it above his head.
"Please stop! Don't do this." More pleas fall from his mouth, faster than he can process. He begins to stumble over his sentences, the pace of his breathing and sobs disrupting the flow. The axe comes down. Philza flinches at the sound, biting back his screams when he sees the axe peel from your body. Your body lunged forward at the movement, your mouth opening from the pain but nothing spills out. You're too exhausted to give out a response.
"No! Dream stop!" The axes rises again, falling much faster this time as it slices through your other wing, successfully detaching them from your body. Philza crawls at the floor, nails ripping back at his struggles.
"Please!" The yell falls silent on ears, not reaching Dream. The axe falls one last time, lodging into your back, the blood splattering across all the figures. His boot lands on your back, pushing down as he pulls the axe out of the flesh. It falls to his side and his mask turns to Philza. He doesn't speak, simply admiring what he created.
Phil crawls to your body, nonsense spilling past his lips. His hand reaches for your own, holding onto it tightly. You're so cold. He squeezes your palm lightly, inching closer when he feels the tensing of your muscles. Your eyes meet his own, hazy and dimming. A shaky breath slips from your tongue. Despite the situation, you still look at him with such adoration. Three words. He knows with those three words that you won't make it. He grips onto your hand tightly, placing a gentle kiss to the side of your palm. He holds your hand up to his cheek, his eyes watering.
He stays there. When your heart slows to a stop. When you take you last breath. When you begin to fade away, colorful particles dissipating with your existence. And, when the messages echo across the lands.
y/n was slain by Dream.
Dream has made the achievement Free The End.
