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silenzahra · 3 months

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Keeping you warm

I'm really sorry this took so long, but at last, here's my answer to @keakruiser's suggestion from this post of Mario and Luigi in a cold context ❄

As I said here, this is based on Dream Team, so in case you haven't played that game, perhaps this could be a little spoilery for you! ⚠

It turned out longer than I expected, so I posted it on ao3 as well! I'll leave the link below in case you'd rather read it there:

I don't really think I should make this clear, but just in case: PLEASE DON'T TAG AS SHIP 🙅‍♀️

Without further ado, here it is! Hope you like it! 💖

Keeping you warm

TW: angst, near freezing

When the Dreambeats reach his ears, Mario is sorely tempted to let himself be carried away by it and sleep. After all, the climb up Mount Pajamaja has been long and torturous, so his body could use a rest. Besides, the cold has gotten so deep into his bones that all he wants to do is curl up and drift off to sleep.

Fortunately, Dreambert and Starlow are on hand to prevent him from succumbing to the sweet melody. Mario shakes his head with all his might. He knows they have to get out of here, away from the Dreambeats, Antasma, Bowser and his minions, but the sound is so enchanting…

No, he says to himself, stubbornly. He can’t fall asleep on top of an icy mountain and so close to his enemies. How could he take care of Luigi then?

Luigi! Where is he? Mario opens his eyes wide and turns his head, his brain dulled due to the Dreambeats. He feels a pang of relief as soon as he discovers his brother standing in front of him.

Although he looks increasingly sleepy.

“We have to get out of here!” Dreambert urges him.

Mario, unable to answer, only nods. Neither he nor Luigi can fight against Bowser and Antasma in these conditions: nodding off, about to faint, and the cold of the mountain getting to their bones. The Dreambeats are too intoxicating, and Mario has always known how easy it is for Luigi to fall asleep anywhere, an ability that has been enhanced since their arrival on Pi’illo Island. Mario himself is tempted again to give in and lie down to sleep, but he shakes his head once more, this time more violently, and stretches out his arms towards Luigi.

“Come on, Lu!” he manages to shout in his ear.

He reaches for his hands and begins to drag him along, and Luigi, though he doesn’t open his eyes, grabs hold of him and stumbles along beside him, his head wobbling on his shoulders. At this moment, that’s more than enough for Mario.

Clutching his sibling, Mario runs over the snow, straining to keep his eyes open, and focuses on the voices of Starlow and Dreambert, who keep talking to him in an attempt to help him stay awake. He’s so tired, and the Dreambeats are so appealing, that he struggles to pull Luigi along, but he can’t leave without him. Trying not to be overcome by the melody, he decides to start talking too, both to avoid giving in to sleep and to try and help Luigi not to surrender either.

When they’ve left Bowser and Antasma far behind, Dreambert begins to flutter in front of Mario to get his attention. He blinks to focus on the prince, increasingly exhausted from having to keep fighting drowsiness, but not willing to give up. The cold of the mountain is so piercing that it has caused him to start shivering.

“Mario,” Dreambert says, urgency permeating his voice. “You have to enter the dream world.”

“I-I can’t, Dreambert,” Mario mumbles, still walking.

“It’s the only way you won’t succumb to the Dreambeats! They are too powerful! They will reach every corner of the island…”

“But what about Luigi?” asks Mario, holding his sleepy brother tightly. “I can’t leave him behind, I can’t—”

“We shall find a place where he can sleep,” Dreambert suggests, “and you can hide in his dreams until the Dreambeats are over.”

“But I can’t leave him sleeping out in the open!”

Dreambert falls silent, unable to find an answer to his outburst. Mario, unwillingly, has stopped, exhausted, and observes the environment around them with his eyes half-closed and his consciousness threatening to fade away.

There is only snow. Piles and piles of snow on the promontories and slopes. There is nowhere to lay Luigi down and protect him from the cold while he sleeps. And Mario won’t go to the dream world in such conditions.

Then, to his surprise, he notices that Luigi digs his fingers into his palms, clinging to him. When Mario turns to look at him, he meets the tired gaze of his brother, who is trying his best to give him a reassuring smile.

“Mario,” he murmurs, and it seems to take a tremendous effort for him to speak. “I’ll be fine. You know… I can sleep anywhere.”

“But Lu…” Mario begins to protest faintly.

“Let me lie down,” Luigi asks him, and watches him as intensely as he is capable of given his sleepy state, “and enter my dreams. Get to safety.”

Something breaks inside Mario at the worried look his sibling gives him. His heart fills with tenderness, moved as he takes in the fact that Luigi is trying to protect him, more concerned about Mario’s welfare than his own.

And Mario understands and knows all too well this readiness to put the needs of others before his own. After all, it’s something he does every single day with Luigi.

He doesn’t want to leave him sleeping in the snow and cold, exposed to the elements, but he’s more urged to make that worried expression disappear from Luigi’s eyes. He appreciates that his brother cares and watches over him, but that is Mario’s job, as he’s the older of the two. Besides, he’s too cold and sleepy to argue anymore, and if he doesn’t make up his mind soon, he knows they’ll both eventually be dragged by the hypnotic beat of the melody.

So, much to his dismay, he nods.

Luigi smiles, satisfied, and his grip on Mario’s palms relaxes. His eyes close again, but Mario doesn’t let go: he holds Luigi’s arms as firmly as he can and leans in as his little brother drops to the frozen ground. Dreambert rushes to get under his head, and Mario, fighting sleep, makes sure his sibling is as comfortable as possible, before looking up at the portal that has opened above Luigi’s head. He’d like to have more time, he’d like to leave a lit fire next to Luigi, but he has no firewood, and the Dreambeats won’t allow him to try and find another solution.

So, with no other options, Mario jumps.

———————————————

He has taken too long to return.

Mario knows it even before he sets foot on the snow. The sky has darkened, covered with storm clouds from which small flakes have begun to fall, and the temperatures have dropped drastically, as if the cold had sharp teeth that are digging viciously into his flesh. Mario hugs himself with a snort as he curses himself for his tardiness.

But there was nothing he could do. The portal closed. He had to climb Mount Pajamaja again, this time in Luigi’s sleep, and to make matters worse, the mountain itself, turned into a giant active volcano, attacked him shortly after he reached the top.

Fortunately, Dreamy Luigi and his many copies were there. By joining forces, they created Giant Luigi again, and he unhesitatingly defended Mario from the volcano’s attack and then confronted it, displaying some strength and bravery that made Mario proud. Not because he didn’t know that Luigi had such abilities, but out of sheer joy and excitement at having been able to see his adored little brother making an impression in combat again.

Thank God that’s all behind him now. Mario smiles softly as he recalls the quick embrace he has shared with Dreamy Luigi a second after the portal reopened above their heads.

“It’s been a pleasure working with you again,” he told him, patting his back. “You’re just as strong and brave as the real-world you – never forget that!”

He feels a pleasant warmth inside as he remembers the blush that covered Dreamy Luigi’s cheeks, and he watched Mario with a shy smile as they said goodbye. Mario sighs, touched, and begins to turn to look for the real version of his sibling, eager to give him a big hug as well.

He’s surprised to realize that he has to look down to find him.

And, all of a sudden, his heart breaks.

Luigi usually wakes up as soon as the portal to the dream world closes, but this time, he’s still sound asleep. He remains very still, almost like a statue, lying on the snow in the place where, hours ago, he fell down, defeated by the Dreambeats. Around him, an icy blanket has accumulated so much that it has even buried part of his arms and legs, and on his eyelashes and moustache, Mario discovers traces of frost.

But what causes Mario’s heart to skip a beat is that Luigi’s skin appears bluish, and his chest rises and falls very slowly, as if he’s having trouble getting air into his lungs.

“Lu!”

Mario drops down beside him and begins to hurriedly remove the snow from his body in anguish. He leans over Luigi’s face and also removes the frost from his facial hair with his fingertips, and a gasp escapes from his throat as he feels, under his gloves, the coldness on Luigi’s skin.

“Luigi,” Mario calls in a strangled voice. “Luigi!”

He holds his head carefully and lifts it up to slip an arm underneath. He pulls Luigi to his chest and draws the rest of his body closer with his free hand, and then begins to rub Luigi’s arms and legs frantically to warm him up. Mario cradles his little brother, holding him close, and continues to call out to him in broken whispers, but Luigi doesn’t respond.

Mario tries to concentrate. His Firebrand beats within him, at his fingertips. All he has to do is focus and summon it, but the cold has penetrated him so deeply that he feels unable to even make a tiny flame sprout. He feels as if the blood in his veins has frozen, and he has no idea how to make it warm again. And the fact that it’s started to snow is not helping either.

But he has to do it. He has to get fire to emerge from his palms, at least a few small sparks, or he won’t be able to help Luigi warm up. He should have refused to let his little brother sleep in the snow, he should have kept dragging him down the mountain, to a place less icy than the summit of Mount Pajamaja.

He should have taken better care of Luigi. He looks at his unconscious face, at his bluish skin, and feels a pang of guilt prickling his heart. What kind of big brother is he that he’s not capable of keeping his adored little sibling safe and warm?

Then, in front of him, Dreambert, having left his pillow form behind, takes off his cloak and hastens to place it on Luigi, who ends up almost entirely covered except for his feet and head. Mario, in the midst of the hysteria that dominates him, gives the prince a thankful look, and Dreambert nods gravely.

The cloak also covers Mario’s hands, which is of invaluable help to him at the moment. He’s still extremely cold, his teeth are still chattering, but at least his hands, with which he’s been rubbing Luigi’s arms and back, are starting to heat up.

Until, at last, the fire.

It’s not much, just a tiny spark that warms his palms, but Mario doesn’t ask for more right now. Still cradling Luigi against him, he begins to apply the warmth of his hands all over his body to combat the iciness that envelops his little brother. Slowly, Mario makes sure to warm Luigi’s arms and back through gentle massages. He removes one hand from under the cloak, being careful not to uncover his sibling, and brings it first to Luigi’s legs and then to his chest, where, fortunately, he can clearly perceive Luigi’s heartbeat.

Finally, Mario leads his fingers to his brother’s sleeping face. Even though his skin is still bluish, Mario thinks he sees that, little by little, the color is returning to Luigi’s cold cheeks. Or perhaps it is his eagerness to save Luigi that deceives him.

However, after a few seconds heating his sibling’s cheeks and forehead, Mario notices that he’s breathing more deeply. With a gasp, Luigi shrinks down and snuggles his body against his, seeking his warmth, and clutches the denim of Mario’s overalls with his trembling fingers underneath the cape. Mario is overcome by an immense wave of relief and tightens his grip around Luigi’s shoulders. Snowflakes fall relentlessly around them.

“Lu?” he calls out to him in a whisper, still warming him with both hands.

Luigi’s eyelids flutter for a second before parting, barely a slit. But Mario needs no more: when his little brother’s blue eyes return his gaze, his heart is whole again.

“M-M-Mario?” Luigi mumbles, stuttering because of the cold that makes him shiver.

He pulls himself tighter against him, snuggling under the cloak. Mario, relieved, holds him tightly, cradling him gently.

“My God, Luigi,” he murmurs, resting his chin on the crown of his sibling’s head and pressing him gently against his chest. “I’m not letting you sleep out in the open again, do you hear me?”

Luigi twists the fabric of his overalls in his fingers but lets out a chuckle.

“I-I-I’m f-f-fine,” he assures Mario. “I-it’s just… a b-bit c-c-cool.”

In spite of himself, Mario can’t help but laugh. When he looks down, he finds Luigi giving him a smile, although it falters a bit due to the almost frozen state his brother is in.

“Just a bit cool, huh?” he repeats, trying to play along.

His hands don’t stop emitting heat. Mario makes sure to move one up and down Luigi’s arms and bring the other to his legs, his chest, his face, unwilling to let the cold spread through his brother’s body again. He reaches for Luigi’s other hand through the cloth and clasps it tightly, using the bond between their fingers to give him some more warmth. Luigi closes his eyes, cowering against him, and his breathing begins, little by little, to become more stable and rhythmic. Mario does not rest until he sees that, this time, Luigi’s cheeks have recovered their usual color, and his sibling gives him a weak smile of gratitude when he notices the concern with which Mario observes him.

“I-I’m ok-kay,” he insists, although he can’t stop stammering. “R-really. I hardly… feel the c-cold anym-more.”

Mario is well aware that, as with his little joke, Luigi is only trying to reassure him, and his heart immediately fills with tenderness.

“Of course you’re fine,” he replies, trying to show an assurance that he doesn’t really feel. “Did you think I was going to let the cold just take you away?”

Luigi laughs softly, still snuggled against him.

“If I could, I’d punch it right in the face,” Mario adds, determined.

“Oh, I-I know,” Luigi affirms. “It d-doesn't stand a chance against y-you.”

Mario’s heart warms at his little brother’s blind faith in him. He gives his hair a quick caress before continuing to use his Firebrand to keep his cheeks warm.

“Or against you,” he replies, for his faith in his dear sibling is just as immeasurable, “especially if you could become a giant here too.”

At that, Luigi’s eyes snap open and he looks at Mario in surprise. The blush soon begins to invade his cheeks, which is definitely a good sign, and Mario, still using his power to provide him heat, lets out a small laugh, touched.

“You saved me, Lu,” he says, his voice full of sweetness. “You were amazing, just like in the desert.”

“Oh.” Luigi looks down shyly but doesn’t turn away from him. “I-I have the slight impression t-that you’ve already t-told me that,” he mumbles with a chuckle.

“I told your dream self, but I had to tell you too.”

Mario gives him another squeeze, which makes Luigi press himself more tightly against him, his head resting on his big brother’s chest. For a few seconds, both are silent, Mario using his Firebrand to warm him up, Luigi recovering little by little. Near them, giving them some space, Starlow and Dreambert wait, silently, for them to decide to get going again.

“Can you get up, Lu?” Mario asks after a few minutes.

Luigi nods decisively. Mario holds him firmly and Luigi clings to him to stand up, Dreambert’s cape still covering him. Mario grabs his brother and rubs his arms, looking him in the face to make sure that, within his means, Luigi is okay. He is better. His face still appears pale and tired, and his legs are a little wobbly, but he’s fine.

He’s not going to freeze to death because of Mario.

“Come on,” he says, wrapping an arm around Luigi’s shoulders, and starts walking to encourage him to go with him. “Let’s get out of this damned place.”

Luigi nods, wrapped in Dreambert’s cloak, and presses his body a little against Mario to seek his warmth before he starts walking. Mario holds him close and keeps using his fire to make sure the cold doesn’t get to his brother again. Luigi moves slowly, each step a tremendous effort, but Mario, even though he’s eager to leave that icy place and the soft snowfall that keeps falling behind, does not rush him. He adapts to his pace, and they descend together, Dreambert and Starlow floating behind them.

They slowly notice that there’s less and less snow around them, and that the light snowfall is gradually subsiding. The darkness draws on, relentlessly, and Mario does not hesitate to conjure a ball of fire in his free hand to light their way. The instant he does so, he realizes, surprised, that the fire has obeyed him immediately, contrary to what happened to him at the summit. He smiles, as this is undoubtedly a good sign.

He does not stop moving until there’s no longer any trace of the icy mantle that almost buried down his beloved sibling. Noticing a small cave formed in the mountain wall they are descending, Mario nods, satisfied, and leads Luigi there.

“Do you think you can find any firewood around here?” he asks Starlow and Dreambert.

“Trees are not abundant on Mount Pajamaja,” the prince replies gravely, “but we will try.”

“I’m sure we’ll find some,” Starlow assures them with a wink.

They set off in opposite directions, and Mario continues to lead Luigi into the cave. He illuminates it with his fire before entering it, but when he sees that it’s more like a small opening with little depth, he calms down and makes Luigi sit down. His sibling obeys without protest and Mario suddenly thinks that Luigi must be feeling just as tired as he is, or maybe even more so. After all, not only has he been exposed to the low temperatures for an extended period of time, but in his dreams, he was helping Mario climb the mountain and taking his giant form to protect him from the active volcano.

Yes, Luigi must be exhausted.

And Mario is going to ensure he gets the rest he deserves.

He adjusts Dreambert’s cape over Luigi’s shoulders and makes sure it covers him well, and Luigi smiles at his care, touched.

“Are you all right, Luigi?” asks Mario, looking at him with concern.

“I’m fine,” Luigi assures him with a nod, this time without a trace of stuttering. “The fact that we’ve left the snow behind helps a lot.”

Again he tries to joke, but this time, Mario is only able to return a grimace.

“I shouldn’t have let you sleep up there,” he mutters, guilt pricking his heart.

“Hey.” Luigi takes a hand out from under the cloak and rubs his brother’s arm gently. “It was my doing. You had to make yourself safe from the Dreambeats.”

“But not at the cost of your own life, Lu,” Mario points out, serious.

Luigi just shrugs.

“I guess that’s how we work, right?” he says with a smile. “Risking our own lives in order to save each other’s.”

At that, Mario can’t reply. He knows that Luigi is right, because, if the situation had been the other way around, he would have risked his life without hesitation to make sure Luigi was safe. He purses his lips, resigned, and lets out a deep sigh.

“I guess you’re right,” he finally admits.

Luigi lets out a soft laugh and massages his arms. Mario immediately grabs Dreambert’s cape to prevent it from slipping down his little sibling’s back, and as he puts it back on his shoulders, he takes the opportunity to provide Luigi with more heat.

“Don’t worry about me, Mario,” Luigi says, smiling. “I know that as long as I’m with you, I’ll be safe.”

Mario’s heart warms at those words, and a smile slowly blooms on his lips. He brings his face a little closer to Luigi’s and his brother imitates him.

“Nothing can hurt us…” Mario begins to say, bowing his head.

“… As long as we’re together,” Luigi concludes.

And, at the moment he pronounces the last syllable, their foreheads meet, filling them with a warmth and serenity that they both urgently needed to feel. They sigh peacefully, comforted by the familiar touch, and instead of separating, they seize the fact that their hands still rest on each other’s shoulders to draw each other in and join in a deep and sweet embrace that makes them feel warmer than any magic.

This is how Dreambert and Starlow find them when, after a few minutes, they return with a few logs. Mario only takes away one hand from Luigi to light the small fire, and then returns his attention to his sibling. He rummages in his pockets and offers a mushroom, and Luigi, not moving away from him, takes a couple of bites, after which he assures Mario that he feels full enough and insists that he finish it himself. Mario, reluctantly, agrees, and is forced to admit that he feels way better almost immediately. He wishes he could offer his little brother a hot drink to make him feel better inside, but since that’s out of his reach, he decides to help Luigi in a different way.

“Come,” he then says, starting to recline, and pulls Luigi gently to make him lie down next to him. “Tonight you’ll sleep with no pillows and no dreams.”

He extends an arm on the hard rock and Luigi, with a smile, rests his head on it, obediently. Mario removes his hat first and then Luigi’s, and puts them on the ground behind his back. He then folds both arms around his brother and draws him to his body, as Luigi wraps his arms around Mario’s waist and snuggles against his chest. Mario places one hand on his sibling’s shoulder and the other on his hair, which he begins to caress lovingly. He only moves an arm away for a moment to make sure that Luigi is completely covered by Dreambert’s cape, but Luigi then grabs one end of the cloak and stretches it over Mario’s body as well.

“You need it too,” he whispers for a second before closing his eyes.

Tenderness invades Mario’s heart again, and a touched smile appears on his lips as a lump forms in his throat. He presses Luigi’s head lovingly against his chest, stroking his hair softly, and only allows himself to close his eyes when he feels Luigi’s breathing, placid in his arms, become slow and rhythmic.

And then, sheltered by the warmth coming from the fire and lulled by the soft breathing of his little brother, Mario finally allows himself to rest.

———————————————

The first thing Luigi feels when he wakes up is Mario’s arms around him.

He smiles, his eyes still closed, feeling protected and loved. He doesn’t know what time it is or how much time has passed, but he doesn’t need to know either. It takes him a few seconds to realize that he no longer feels cold, that all the iciness that took hold of him hours ago has disappeared. He also feels more rested than he has since he first set foot on Pi’illo Island.

But instead of getting up, he decides to snuggle back down next to his brother and enjoy that little moment of peace by his side.

He smiles at the sight of Mario’s sleeping and serene face. His sibling battles a lot on a daily basis, and when he enters Luigi’s dreams, he doesn’t have a moment of respite either, so Luigi is not going to wake him up. Even less so after Mario, with his Firebrand, saved his life the night before.

A shiver runs through him, as he’s all too aware that, if it weren’t for his beloved big brother, Luigi wouldn’t be there. Mario has protected him before, he’s been protecting him practically since they were born, but this time, he hasn’t simply defended Luigi from a greater evil: he has pulled him out of the clutches of death.

Luigi owes Mario his life.

So, very carefully, Luigi moves slowly so that it is his arm that is placed under his sibling’s head. Mario lets out a little snore when he feels his movements, but he doesn’t wake up, and Luigi is forced to stifle a giggle. He pulls Dreambert’s cape aside, as he no longer needs it, and covers his brother’s body with it, which makes Mario smile and sigh in his sleep as he feels warm. Luigi puts his other arm around his sibling and pulls him to himself, and Mario snuggles against his chest so that Luigi almost cradles him like a baby. Smiling, he strokes his brother’s hair softly and gently lays his lips on Mario’s forehead.

“Rest, Mario,” Luigi says in a soft whisper. “I’ll be keeping you warm today.”

And Mario smiles again.

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jun-hug · 1 year

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dream team art school! au

Doodles that inspired me to write a little drabble fic :)

ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ

This was Georges biggest project,

okay maybe biggest project this semester... or last 2 months, either way the assignment occupied boys attention for couple last weeks, especially this week. That's why his two best friends were so eager to meet up, it felt like they haven't seen him in so long yet they go to same university. When brunette texted on their group chat asking for a hand with a photoshoot he haven't even blinked an eye before they eagerly agreed.

What's even more exciting, boys haven't seen George's project yet! The oldest kept it a secret to "prevent the leaks" because apart from it being his assignment it was also an entry to one of his most ambitious fashion competitions. The fashion awards of all US fine arts universities. He had high hopes for it.

"Alright I'm almost ready, remember to put the ISO to 200, I borrowed those lights for a reason!” Georges words were a little muffled but still understandable as he worked on setting his design as perfectly as it could get.

"Got it Gogs, come on we don't have a whole day!” they did, their classes finished at 11am today and it was Friday so they were free for the next days. Sapnap was just eager to see the boys creation, after all he put all his heart into it, like he does to all his projects. "Actually we do" Dream interjected, youngest only glared at him knowing damn well he's as impatient considering constant taps on his thigh.

"Yeah Sap idiot, we have all day.. but you're right, it's better if the light from outside is still at it's best." he finally emerged from behind the wardrobe curtain. Okay. The boys were stunned it's not that George usually doesn't look like goddess himself - that's far from truth actually. It's just that this time they're seeing his art mixed with all his grace and beauty. Sapnap manages to whisper little "Oh god" only for Dream to hear, as the tallest boy starts "You-”

The baby blue glowy shirt, ornamented with flowered embroidery makes his face look soft, bringing out his strawberry cheeks and eyes hinted with a bit of peachy shadow. It all contrasts, yet fits without fault with a long, red, mermaid cut skirt. It's flowy, the material decorated with blue beads in the shape of hearts- And oh-

Dream gasps, Sapnap inhales loudly. Fishnets, George is wearing fishnets and the cut in the thigh is so high it shows his left leg fully. good christ, they are so down bad. Sapnap eyes Dream and They can really just see how both of them are fully raspberry blown faces.

They are both hot. red.

And The brunet who's the one and only cause is clearly oblivious to their reaction as he innocently asks "so how does it look?", makes a gesture with hands showing of the sleeves and frills on the skirt.

"I- you, it's well, George, it's so beautiful you look amazing." Dream exhaled eyes still on him, almost not blinking.

"George it truly is gleaming - I mean the colour palette for this one??? Ms Chevreu will loose her shit when she sees this! You actually are so skilled holy smokes” Sapnap added still admiring his friend's piece.

"awe thank you! I hope she looses her shit to be honest that would be funny, she's into reds recently so I think she will" boy snickered, his cheeks visibly tinted, not only from blush he applied couple minutes ago.

"alright!" he clapped his hands "time for shoot!"

Youngest set the light, while dark blond took photos to fill the entire SIM card folder. Taking that George was /very/ photogenic it was easy to catch the best shots, it's almost like he looks perfect in all of them. George is perfect tho, Dream thinks.

"Okay I think we're done, I took pictures from every side I think" Dream announced as George stretched "gods yes please my back is starting to hurt so bad" as to emphasize that he popped his bones ”ew George don't do that” Sapnap made a face.

"what do you mean you are the worst back popper I've met. Hearing only a scoff in response from other boy George's half lidded eyes closed for a little while.

"He's meditating guys!” Dream squeeked in one of his mocking voices, George giggled "he's died!"

"Okay, that's it I'm checking the photos!" Sapnap yanked the camera from the tallest's hands and plopped on one of the puff poufs. "Hey be careful you goose! this camera only cost me 5 and a half months of cafeshop money!” Dream hurried with scolding

George got up slowly and joined the youngest, soon enough all three of them were slumped on floor, brit in the middle looking and commenting on photos. "Hey guys.." brunet started, causing Dream and Sapnap turning to him.

"yeah?" dark brunette asked.

"thank you... for supporting me, like not only this time but at all" he turned his eyes from both pairs of theirs. Then he cupped each cheek and gave it a short kiss.

Boys blushed, all three of them.

"Yeah no problem Gogs, we'll always be your biggest fans" Sapnap breathed out.

"Always" Dream repeated.

And if for the rest of the day boys only watched movies all cuddled up on couch, snacking on anything they found in brunets kitchen, that was on them.

thank you for reading ♡

hugs,

Jun

#georgenotfound fanart #georgenotfound #dream fanart #dreamwastaken #sapnap fanart #sapnap #dreamnotnap #dnn #dream team #dream team fanfic #gnf #dtqk #mcyt #gnf fanart #doodle #art school au #drabble #dreamnotnap fic #jun arts

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bagelrites · 10 months

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A Demanding Job

Bad finds three helpless kittens in his back yard, and decides he has to take care of them.

(A drabble for my DTeam Kittens AU that I'm hopefully going to expand into a longer fic one day.)

Happy (Late) Fathers Day!

Bad finds them in the garden.

It’s early spring, time to start turning the earth so he can plant as soon as the last frost is past, the grass starting to green up again, dewey under his knees as he works the trowel into the garden beds. A pair of sparrows land on the lawn, hop around looking for worms. Bad wipes his forehead and takes a break for a moment to watch them.

He’s already gotten in nearly an hour of work. He thinks about taking a break, going inside and getting a cold glass of water.

Then something makes a noise. A high-pitched call, small and weak, but enough to scare off the sparrows. They flutter up and away, into the branches of a nearby tree, then quickly out of sight. The sound repeats, louder. It starts to sound like more than one animal, all coming from under the shed.

Bad gets up, walks closer. He realizes, eyes widening, that it sounds like cats. Kittens, more specifically. A pair—or more—of tiny kittens mewing desperately from under the shed.

“Oh my goodness!” Bad drops the trowel and gets on his knees. There’s a gap between the bottom of the shed and the ground where there dirt dips, the corners of the shed held up on cinder blocks to keep it level. Bad worried about animals living down there when he’d set it up, but he imagined it more likely to be squirrels or raccoons, not cats.

He can see them: small, fuzzy shapes in the dark. There’s no sign of the mom, and if they’ve been there all night, they must be freezing. The thought of it breaks Bad’s heart just as much as their desperate cries.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he tells them, reaching an arm down into the hole. He has to push himself up against the side of the shed to reach, but at least they don’t run.

When he pulls the first one out, a cream-colored kitten with pale orange stripes, he realizes why: it's so young, its eyes are still closed and its ears are curled up against its head. It must only be a few days old.

“Shh, oh, oh, poor thing,” Bad whispers, holding it gently to his chest as he reaches in for the next one. This one is a brown tabby, and alarmingly, it isn’t crying out like its sibling is. It's not dead, but it feels a little cold, and Bad quickly presses it to his chest. He needs to keep it warm.

There’s still crying from under the shed, so Bad reaches down and pulls out the third kitten. It's a dark gray color, no stripes or markings like its sibling, just a slightly softer color on the stomach and snout.

Bad gets up and carries the kittens directly inside. He’s worried about the tabby; he may have just found these kittens, but if one of them dies on his watch, he doesn’t know what he’ll do with himself.

Warmth is the most important thing. He takes off his shirt and finds a scarf to bundle them in, then ties them around his chest so he’s carrying the kittens right over his heart. He puts on a thick wool sweater over it, hoping that the barrier and his own body heat will be enough to make a safe, warm pouch for them.

Then he runs to the library and starts searching his almanacs for any information about caring for kittens.

…

After a while of warming up, snuggled between his siblings and Bad’s chest, the tabby eventually starts to meow, too, if a little quieter than the others. Bad is relieved, though he knows they’re meowing because they’re hungry. They must have been waiting for their mom, and when—for whatever reason—she didn’t return to feed them, they began to cry out for her.

Bad’s keeping an eye on the back garden, but he hasn’t seen a cat yet. He has a feeling he won’t at all, given all the wolves living in the woods around his house.

He has a better idea of how to care for the kittens now, though. He’s busy mixing them some formula when he hears the tabby start to cry. He adds what he can to the cow’s milk to make it more nutritious for them, then gently heats it on the stove until its warm to the touch, but not hot.

He doesn’t have a bottle, so he first tries to spoon feed it to the kittens, but their mouths are too small and not the right shape at all, it just pours down their cheeks and gets stuck in their fur. He finds that they’ll suck it off his fingers quite easily, but it’s not effective to really get a lot of food in them. Eventually, he ends up soaking a cloth in the formula and letting them suckle on that.

He’ll get a bottle for them as soon as he can, but he has to make sure they’re safe enough to leave alone, and for that, he needs a way to keep them warm.

The almanac suggested a sack of warm, uncooked rice. Bad heats it over the stove, stirring constantly to keep it from burning, and then pours the rice in a pillowcase. It’s a but jerry-rigged, but good enough, he supposes. He sets the warm bag of rice down in a wooden chest along with a soft blanket and a stuffed bear, something for them to cuddle with. Then he gently puts the kittens down, now all quiet and sleepy from their meal, and watches as they crawl clumsily towards the warmth and fall asleep in a pile.

He sighs, resting his arms on the edge of the chest. He already feels so attached to these three tiny kittens, their fur sticking up at odd angles, their faces pink and gummy, their bellies round and limbs short.

He wants to watch them, but he also knows he needs to go now if he wants to run out and buy everything he needs. The kittens, at this age, need to be fed every two hours, on the hour.

It’s a demanding job, but Bad has already made up his mind to do it.

#badboyhalo #dteam #dream team #muffinteers #bbh #my fic #badboyhalo fanfic #dream team fanfic #drabble #dream #sapnap #gnf #dteam kittens au

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belovedrm · 9 months

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BELOVEDRM FANFIC RECS

Read Between The Lines

dnf / dteam kid fic - 167k words, 29 chapters

rated m: sexual tension, angst w/ happy ending

tags: medical conditions, disabled character

“The unexpected of parenting meets the uncertainty of love. Dream has to learn how to balance building a relationship from the ground up and his kids as he faces a new school year, new coworkers, and new drama. — Or, in which Dream is a parent who is a little too interested his kids’ Kindergarten teacher.”

[ if you read the fic/if you want to - you can message me & let me know if you liked the recommendation! ]

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tiniinbookland · 6 months

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have this snippet of something i started writing last year in summer, it bangs but i fear it won't ever see the light of day

#dream team #dream team fanfic #fanfic #my writing #georgenotfound #dreamwastaken #sapnap #spilling T

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caseywond3r · 2 years

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day 2 of 7 Days of Dream Team is up now!! internalised homophobia one-shot because I have never projected, not even once.

link here :))

#caseywrites #dream team fanfic #dnf fanfic #dream smp fanfic

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dvilkings · 2 years

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wormwood - a dream team fanfic

↝ rated Teen+ ↝ 3.1k words ↝ 1/9 chapters ↝ the sandman au

“Will the humans even notice the new stars?” Desire questioned with a snipe in his tone. Dream hummed.

“Humans don’t need to see us to believe we are there. Their faith is stronger than that.” He slung his arms across the shoulders of Death and Desire – newly named Sapnap and George – and he smiled, feeling the presence of familiar home descending down on his own shoulders, right where it belongs.

Dream, King of Dreams holds the world in his hands, for better or for worse. And spending eternity with Death and Desire, nightmares are sure to run rampant.

reblogs, comments, and kudos are all very appriciated!

#eeueaao #dream team #dteam #dream team fanfic #dteam fanfic #dream #sapnap #georgenotfound #dnf #dnf fanfic #dreamnotfound #the sandman #sandman au #gods and goddesses #mythology au #desire #death

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snowdreamr · 1 year

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Jour de Pluie

Rated T (Gen) | 5.1k words | oneshot

It’s George’s first Christmas in Florida, and his best friends will make sure he has the time of his life.

Tags: Christmas Fluff, Platonic Soulmates, Rain, Hugs, Referenced Family Issues

Extract:

Dream doesn’t get the concept of Christmas spirit until he wakes up to Sapnap and George screaming very inaccurate lyrics to Silent Night, Holy Night outside his bedroom.

“You idiots woke me up,” he complains, slow and hoarse, rubbing tiredness away from his eyes.

(twitter)

#dream team #dteam #mcyt #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #sapnap #dream team fic #platonic #christmas #christmas fluff #dream team fanfic #dreamnotnap #archive of our own

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good-vibes-mostly · 2 years

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Everything is going according to plan. (I'm serious this time)

Chapter 3/?, 10.6k total words

Talking to people requires a lot of foresight. Sometimes you just don't have any.

((hahaha hi))

#dream team #dnf #dreamwastaken #dream #georgenotfound #sapnap #dream team fanfic #superhero au #8p #<- this is gonna be my short hand for it from now on #bridge writes

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mrmarsbarss · 2 years

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Lil AU snippet :D

Chapter (?) 1: Beginnings (and smash bros)

“I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU FOR THAT!”

The Dream Team was in the middle of playing Smash across VC.

Dream was wheezing. Wheezing hard. Laughing at his stupid victory, George and Sapnap both fell off the battlemap and tried their hardest to get back up Eventually they gave up and let Dream have his victory.

“Okay Dream that’s enough, Let’s go now and besides George is starting to fall asleep on me anyway.” Sapnap said midyawn.

“Yeah. Alright i’m getting kinda tired too. Goodnight Sap, and tell Gogs I said goodnight too will ya?” Dream said hanging up the call.

Sapnap sighed “God I love that man sometimes.” of course they were just platonic, after all Dream did love George more than he loved Sapnap but hey who wouldn’t fall in love with George? He’s practically the perfect boyfriend!

Sapnap put George into a blue-sheeted bed and started to drift off himself. In his own bed of course, Sapnap couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping with George. Dream would never stop making fun of him for it.

—————————————————-

Dream was completely asleep and completely unaware of the lanky shadow forming over his bed. The last thing he thought he heard was a squeal of terror coming out of his trusty cat Patches and the movement of burlap rubbing against burlap.

[ END CHAPTER ]

//WOOO! WROTE MY FIRST CHAPTER LMAO i’d like feedback but of course y’all’s aren’t forced :}

//funny au idea by me and my other funny @baka-monarch go follow em they’re cooolll!!

#ao3 fanfic #ao3 #dreamwastaken #dream #dream fanfic #dream team fanfic #georgenotfound #sapnap #dsmp #princess au?

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the-duality-of-masks · 3 months

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I need to write a short fic / one shot that's DTeam-centric about early Community House era of the SMP, but add a little hurt on top

How does "watching a rainbow (through prison bars)" sound?

#dreblr #dsmp #dsmp fanfic #dream team fanfic #dream team #c!Dream fanfic #dreamwastaken #early smp era fic #Caelum writes stuff

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luxaofhesperides · 5 months

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Danny accidentally appearing out of Duke's shadow. And doing it purposely every time after that. ; requested by @kyrianclawraith! (deviated from your original prompt a bit, sorry! the ghostlights brainworms got away from me)

Traveling through shadows has become second nature for Duke after using them so extensively over the years. He even uses them as a civilian, hopping between shadows when he’s running late to class so he doesn’t have to stress out over traffic.

Not even Batman’s scoldings can stop him from making it on time to his classes. Risks need to be taken for the sake of his education!

The shadows are comforting. They hide him from sight, get him to where he needs to go, and gives him the alone time he needs when he’s been around people for too long and desperately needs some quiet to recharge. Duke would say that he’s well versed in the shadows at this point, no longer stumbling out into the light.

Even with all his practice and confidence, he still can’t prepare himself for tripping over someone in the shadows while he’s trying to escape some of The Riddler’s goons.

They both go tumbling out of the shadows, landing in a corner hidden by storage shelves. The poor tripping hazard of a person is under him, groaning lightly as he reaches up to press a hand to the back of his head, where he hit the concrete floor.

“Oh, shit,” Duke whispers, “I’m so sorry. What are you doing here? How are you here?”

“I was hiding,” the guy hisses back at him. “I wanted to get out of the rain and dozed off and when I woke up, guns were being shot! I was up in the rafters, so excuse me for thinking no one would find me up there!”

Another gunshot rings out, alarmingly close to where they are.

Duke curses under his breath, then picks up the guy and hauls him over his shoulder. “Time to go!” And then he’s disappearing into the shadows again, following the line of them outside the warehouse and down the street.

As soon as they’re safely away from the goons, Duke steps out of the shadows and carefully sets the civilian back onto his feet.

“So sorry about that,” he says, “But I need to get back and deal with them. Stay safe!”

He’s gone before the civilian can say anything else, and though it’s embarrassing that he tripped over someone while shadow hopping, at least it ended relatively well. It’s not like it’ll happen again.

Duke, sweet, naive Duke, doesn’t think much of the civilian again. He’s a busy guy with a busy life! Lots of things to do! Lots of embarrassing moments to keep secret from the other Bats! No one has mentioned it at all, so he thinks he’s safe from being teased about it.

That is, up until he’s training with Dick and a hand pops up out of his shadow.

“Um,” Dick says, backflipping away from Duke’s punch. He lowers his escrima sticks and squints at the space behind Duke. “Are you… trying something new with your powers?”

“...No? I’m not using my powers right now.”

Dick looks more and more alarmed. He won’t look away from the space behind Duke, and it’s making him nervous. He doesn't want to look, but he knows he has to.

Steeling himself, Duke takes a deep breath, then turns slightly to see what’s behind him.

Nothing.

His gaze goes down, and he sees a pale hand sticking out of his shadow, moving back and forth. It then comes out some more, up to the elbow, and the hand pats the ground Duke’s shadow lays on, a stiff mat perfect for sparring.

Behind him, Dick turns on his escrima sticks, the electricity crackling through the air.

The hand disappears for a moment.

Then two hands appear and grab the ground, hauling up a body from Duke’s shadow.

Duke is very well versed in shadows. He travels through them almost daily. He thinks he would know if there was some strange netherworld hidden in the shadows where other beings could pop out of shadows like portals. This is alarming, to say the least.

“Don’t move, Duke,” Dick warns, creeping closer, ready to attack.

A head pops out of his shadow. Whatever it is glows and their white hair moves softly as if underwater. They’re facing away from him, so he can’t see their face, but he can see the black, skin-tight suit their wearing as they float up from his shadow, no longer needing their hands to pull themself out.

“Huh,” they say, looking up at the ceiling.

Dick grabs Duke’s arm and pulls him back, shielding him with his body. “Who are you?” he demands, voice cold.

The creature/person startles and whips around to stare at them with wide green eyes. His gaze darts down to the electrified escrima sticks, then back up again, visibly nervous.

“Um, hi! Sorry, I didn’t know anyone would be here. Wherever this is.”

“How did you get here?”

“I was practicing a new portalling method. I found a ghost to teach me how to move through shadows, since my usual portals are very bright and noticeable. Not great when you’re trying to be stealthy! I did not mean to end up here.”

Duke stares at him. “You came out of my shadow.”

“Sorry,” the guy repeats. Then he squints at Duke. “Hey, didn’t you save me the other day? From the warehouse?”

It’s been a while since Duke’s saved anyone from a warehouse. Criminals and goons have moved on to condemned apartment complexes and the back rooms of bars. The only person he’s saved is the tripping hazard…

“Man, what is up with you and getting caught in my shadows?”

“This is your fault!” the guy insists. “I associate shadows too strongly with you! That’s why I’m here! Probably. I don’t actually know how this works.”

“You don’t know how it works but you did it anyways.”

“It sounds bad when you say it like that.” The guy floats down to the ground and offers Duke a hand. “I’m Phantom, by the way! Figured I should introduce myself because this will happen again.”

Duke considers introducing himself as the Signal, but Danny is looking directly at his bare face, so it’s lost cause. Talk about an unexpected security breach. “Duke. You looked a little different when we first met.”

“Yeah, that was my human form. This is my ghost form.” A watch on his wrist, some clunky looking thing that looks like it came from the early 2000s, beeps and Phantom frowns at it. “Shoot, I need to go. I’ll see you later!” And he dives right back into Duke’s shadow, disappearing.

Duke blinks at the empty space where Phantom used to be, still reeling from the shock of it. He’s so busy processing the last few minutes that he doesn’t hear the escrima sticks turn off until Dick is dropping a heavy arm around his shoulders, holding him in place. There’s a smile on his face, but it’s not happy; it’s a warning that he’s at his limit and is barely hanging on to niceties.

“So,” he says as Duke cringes, “Looks like we need to have a talk about the things you’ve been hiding from us, Duke.”

He can’t do anything but resign himself to his fate.

After that conversation, he’s instructed to let them know when Phantom pops up. Which is fine until he realizes that Phantom really did mean it when he said that it’ll happen again.

Phantom pops up constantly. Most of the time, Duke is lucky enough to be at home, or in the Manor, or in the Batcave away from the public where no one will freak out about a glowing boy popping out of his shadow. Sometimes, he’s in the middle of the street as a civilian and has to sprint away, ducking into the first empty alley he can find in order to climb up onto the rooftop where no one will see him.

It’s stressful and confusing and he wishes he could be more upset about it, but Phantom is fun. He’s funny and charming and tells the craziest stories about ghost fights that Duke can’t help but hang onto every word.

He dutifully updates his Phantom Log, noting each time he’s portaled through Duke’s shadow, any information he’s revealed, and an injury count after Duke noticed a concerning pattern of Phantom often showing up after he’s been in a fight.

Duke begins to get a feel for when Phantom is about to show up. A shiver runs down his spine and his awareness of the shadows around him grows. Sometimes, he could swear he could feel something tear apart in his shadow. He feels it then, a tear that stitches itself up almost instantly, a ripple in the shadow, before that familiar hand pops up again and Duke grabs hold of it to haul Phantom out into his bedroom.

He is, once again injured. There’s a large gash running down the length of his other arm, bleeding a toxic, glowing green.

“Dude,” Duke says, unable to keep the judgment out of his voice.

“You should see the other guy,” Phantom snorts. “I slammed him through five streets, then ripped his limbs off.

“Dude…”

“Just to be clear, they weren’t his real limbs. He has a robot suit he uses like a body because he’s like a tiny little bean.”

“Yeah, I don’t know how to take that. Anyways, have you still not figured out how to open portals that aren’t connected to my shadow?”

Phantom shrugs. “Nope. And I’m not really trying to figure it out. I like hanging out with you. Plus, it’s nice to see a friendly face after a fight.”

“Can’t you like, go home and have your family take care of you first.”

“Uh, better not,” Phantom laughs nervously. “They’d probably kill me for real if they saw me like this.”

Duke quietly notes to himself to add that statement to the Alarming Things Phantom Says list.

“Does it… bother you? Me always coming to you?” There’s a smallness to his voice, a fragility that makes Duke want to beat himself up for making Phantom feel like that.

“No! No, I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t keeping you from anyone else.”

Phantom brightens. “Oh! Well, no need to worry about that. No one’s worried, back home. They know I disappear sometimes.”

…Another concerning thing. Duke is considering bribing Phantom into staying in Gotham forever, living in his shadow, just so he can take care of him. Just to be sure Phantom’s safe. “Is there anything I can do for you?” he asks, eyes flickering down to Phantom’s bleeding wound.

Phantom futilely tries to hide the wound with a hand. The green blood leaks out from between his fingers, and he applies more pressure to the wound with a faint wince. “Nope! All good here. I’ll heal in no time, honest.”

“Then, do you want to just hang out? I really don’t know why you’d chose to keep coming to me.”

“You’re good company, dude. Very chill. Very fun. And you’re a hero! That’s so cool. Why wouldn’t I keep coming back?”

Duke shrugs, not sure how to put his insecurities into words. He’s already starting to get the Bat-specific inability to communicate emotions, which is definitely a problem. He’ll need to spend time with other people to be normal again.

As if sensing that Duke’s mood is falling, Phantom launches into another tale, complaining about people who bother him, teachers who are terrible at teaching, having snark-fights with the embodiment of Time itself, and so on. He always has the craziest stories, and he tells them so casually that Duke has to second guess himself, wondering if he’s overreacting when he’s shocked by what Phantom tells him.

He starts telling his own stories as well, mostly fun civilian interactions he’s had since they last spoke, villain fights, the ever changing theories on the ‘Who is Batman Sleeping With Now?’ shared document all the other Bats have. By the time an hour passes, Phantom’s arm is fully healed and he’s flying in lazy circles above Duke.

His watch beeps again in the middle of him recounting the insane drama happening at his school. Phantom sighs and sinks back to the floor, hovering just above Duke’s shadow.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” he says, voice warm.

Duke shrugs. “You’re good company. I like when you visit.”

A slow, soft smile spreads across Phantom’s cheeks, making him glow even brighter. “Sweet talker,” he accuses fondly, then flies in for a quick, tight hug. He pulls back before Duke can reciprocate, and salutes him with a cheeky, “See you soon!” and is gone, flying into Duke’s shadow before he can respond.

Shaking his head fondly, Duke falls back against his bed.

Despite how unconventional their friendship is, he is glad Phantom keeps coming back. He hopes he’ll get to see Phantom’s human form again.

…And get more used to the horror movie scene that is Phantom clawing his way out of his shadow. No matter how many times he sees it, the sight still makes him jump.

Not that he’s ever going to admit that.

If Phantom thinks he’s cool, he’s going to do whatever he can to keep that impression from changing. It’s only reasonable, really.

(“Shut up, Dick,” he says later when he recounts this encounter with Phantom. Dick just keeps laughing, endlessly amused that Duke got ‘jumpscared into a crush’ as he phrased it. That’s definitely not what happened.

Next time, he’s definitely convincing Phantom to scare Dick with him.

Revenge will be his.) . . .

[send me ghostlights prompts! one day left before they close on 11/17]

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #dp x dc fanfic #prompt fill #my writing #100% after danny gets a hang of traveling thru shadow portals more hes going to help duke in fights #meaning duke is going to throw a ball of shadows like a pokeball and dannys going to pop out of it to deliver a spectacular flying tackle #theyre the dream team (trouble makers) :)#thanks for the prompt!!

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