𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐑, dreamnoblade oneshots

𝐱𝐯 | strawberry on my lips

strawberry on my lips
- GUM, jule vera

1,634 words !

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DREAM isn't a big fan of prison cells, truth be told. This one is nicer than the others he's been in, and was specifically designed with him in mind. How long has this been laying around?

He runs his tongue over his teeth, squinting at the ceiling in thought—then pauses.

"Bastard," he mutters.

A quiet chuckle echoes in the small space. His hair raises at the sound, and Dream suppresses the urge to look around blindly. He'd only make a fool of himself.

"How long've you been here?" Dream asks instead, leaning his head back against the wall. He needs the other man to talk so he can track his voice.

Technoblade isn't an idiot, though—far from it. His bemusement fills the silence, and Dream grits his teeth.

"You've already won," Dream spits. "What more do you want?"

His skin prickles when no response comes. Unlike the tangible amusement from last time, this quiet is ponderous. Technoblade is thinking.

He didn't think when he tried to put an arrow through Dream's skull. The blond man's temple throbs at the reminder. A pale scar disappears into his hairline—the only time Technoblade missed. Centimeters lower and Dream wouldn't be here.

Dream wonders if it really was an accident. Surely someone as skilled as Technoblade wouldn't miss that shot.

"I won?" Technoblade muses. Dream twitches, fingers flexing briefly inward. His eyes flick across the empty cell, looking for a hint of movement. "You admit it?"

The prisoner grimaces. "Look at where I am"—Dream motions to himself, the orange jumpsuit he's in—"then look at you." He gazes pointedly at the open air.

Technoblade has the gall to laugh at that. The sound makes Dream want to punch him.

Their history isn't long. Dream is what the public would consider a villain, the heir to a title with a crushing legacy. He only got his feet underneath him a few months ago, able to take off the training wheels on his powers.

Naturally, that was when Technoblade turned up.

He's not sure who Technoblade really is. Dream's civilian identity—if it can even be called that—is public knowledge. Although he doesn't show his face often, there are plenty of videos of him getting his ass handed to him by a superhero who appeared from nowhere.

Dream doesn't know jackshit about Technoblade or Technoblade's powers or why Technoblade is here. He doesn't want to know anything either.

What he wants is for Technoblade to leave him the hell alone.

The man refused to, though, and now here they are, in prison. Even though they're on the same side of the bars (as far as Dream can tell), they both know Technoblade is the free man here.

"So this is what you consider winnin'," his enemy drawls. Dream gets the impression that he's looking around, observing the blank walls and lack of...anything, really.

Dream scowls. "Don't play," he bites out. "You got me. I'm imprisoned. You win."

Technoblade hums, the low tone sinking into the blond's skin. He shivers despite himself. "I thought you'd be more interestin' than this," the man murmurs. "I suppose we're all wrong from time to time."