#cawesamdream

[lookinghalfacorpse]

i think the time period after c!techno left the cell and c!quackity stopped visiting was when the most nasty awesamdream sex happened. sam was a bit Pent Up, and the halls were a little devoid of screaming if you know what i mean.

#dream's body was also. In A State #<- take that as you will #cawesamdream #feelin normal on a sunday evening

[chrysalizzm]

ttdtn blurb: execution

“Do you know what Stockholm Syndrome is, Sam?”

warnings: references to abuse, abusive relationship, references to torture, c!sam neg, vague body horror, death

for @lookinghalfacorpse's phenomenal fic the trees deny themselves nothing, which has been living in my head for the past month.

People always forget that Phil is millenniums old. That he’s put on every face there is. That he’s spoken every tongue that’s lived and died. He can clean any wound and ease any illness, and when the bombing was over and the dust had settled he’d limped through the crowd and offered potions and poultices, and consolation if they’d take it, so: of course they think he’s a senile old man who only knows pain and death. Of course.

But Sam, all of king and court magician, redstone genius and pickpocketing slummer, should know better.

And he does seem to remember, judging by the full-body flinch he greets Phil with at the door to his old workshop. All his fur roils on end, a forest of green, as he says, “Philza.”

“Hi, mate.” Phil folds his wings back demurely, watching Sam’s eyes follow the Void-black sheen of them. He steps over the threshold without waiting for an invitation to do so, steering Sam back towards his workbench with a thump on the back. He kicks the door closed behind him, and it creaks laboriously shut with a protesting groan. Sam’s gaze flickers to the door. Back to Phil’s wings. The fine, faint feathers dusting Phil’s cheeks prick up.

“Nice space you got here,” he says, real friendly-like, parking Sam’s ass in one of the only chairs that doesn’t have a chunk taken out of it for tinkering. “Gloomy and shit. Perfect for you. Is this body going blind yet?”

Sam straightens. “No,” he says mechanically. “My eyesight is perfect, thank you. I’ve improved both foveal acuity and the range of peripheral vision in my left eye. I could track in the dark.”

“Like you couldn’t before,” Phil teases. “Creeper vision and all, yeah? Though the wider periphery is nice. Bet you can see anything getting away.”

Sam’s voice comes out so stiff and starched Phil could probably make a sheaf of paper out of it. “In theory, yes.” 

Phil draws his gaze away from Sam—who knows better than to run from the mythical angel that haunts every page of every history book—to observe the rows and rows of tinkertoys, the delicate baubles, the shiny trinkets. He can practically hear his feathers puffing up in glee. It’s really a shame he knows that Sam’s hands shaped them; all he wants to do is pulverize them into pretty glittering grime.

“Is there anything specific you needed, Phil?” Sam asks, apparently having regained enough of his wits to brave impatience. “I’m busy. I just got an important commission and I really need to get to it.”

“You’ll sit right there until I say you can leave or I will sprout wings of flame and turn your bones into glass,” says Phil mildly. “Is that clear?”

Silence rings out into the workshop. A leaky faucet somewhere drip-drip-drips into the hollow quiet. Sam shifts. 

“...Crystal.”

“Perfect. Glad to see we’re on the same page.” Phil’s eyes flicker briefly to the ceiling, where Sam has, perhaps for posterity, installed a flimsy skylight. A crow—soon to be a whole murder of ‘em—pokes its inquisitive little head in, and Phil stifles a smile. Turning to face Sam, he tucks the smile behind the fan of his clawed fingers and asks, “Why did you lie to me?”

Sam jerks. “What?”

“You lied to me. You claimed you had no underhanded intentions with Dream, yet you took his leg and left him for dead. You claimed you were keeping no secrets, only to lie, repeatedly, to my face. You claimed you would do everything in your power to rectify your mistake, but you’ve instead made a bigger one.” Phil folds his hands over Benihime’s hilt, feeling her purr under his palm. “Do you understand what I’m saying, Sam?”

Sam, clearly not understanding what Phil’s saying, scoffs. “I never lied to you once,” he says matter-of-factly. “I adhered completely to my code of ethics as both an engineer and the Warden, and acted upon the best interests of everyone on this Server.”

“Taking out a perceived threat,” Phil agrees cheerfully. Sam stumbles over his words, caught off-guard by Phil’s concurrence, and it gives Phil the room to continue, “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about what you said over and over for the past three days, mate. Had a lot of time to sorta mull things over, as like.” A minute tense of the knuckles; in the back of his head, Benihime hisses. “But that’s not all that I’m here for.”

Sam lifts his head, shucking off his redstone-stained goggles. His eyes are round: comically surprised. “It’s not?” he says.

Phil smiles with all his teeth. His wings sharpen against the air. The shadows at his feet stretch and seethe. Sam recoils. 

“It’s not. I’m here not only because of those things, but also because you used Dream.” Phil’s voice unspools in a low croon. Quietly, quietly, so not even the crows overhead can hear and whisk the sacred words back to his wife. “Before the Old World fell, they had a name for what you’re doing to Dream. They called it Stockholm Syndrome. Do you know what Stockholm Syndrome is, Sam?”

Sam, his green pelt gone over gray like the gunpowder he’ll fade into if Phil takes a knife to his skull, shakes his head. Ever an eager student, quick to confess to his ignorance. Between becoming empress of a kingdom and a girl in the wilds running with the wolves, Phil had spent a stint as a young king’s tutor, pleased by how quickly the cunning kid caught on. One of many regrets, in the end.

“It means Dream knows how you think about him. He understands. He empathizes. He knows what you think he is, and he agrees. He might like you, Sam. He might even like you a lot, so much that he will ignore anyone trying to save him because you have convinced him he should not be saved. Maybe even that he does not deserve to be saved.” Techno had told him about the incident in the barn, and they both have eyes; you don’t survive centuries amongst the Servers without developing a sixth sense for interpersonal relations. Besides, Phil came before Techno. Much, much before, when there were names for these things, and people knew that you could look at your captor like a lover. Times have changed. People, it seems, have not.

“I don’t know all the details of what you and Quackity did to him in that prison. Frankly, I don’t give a shit. But I care that somehow, while doing what you fucks did, you convinced him that he is not a person, and that he does not deserve love, and that he doesn’t get to live.” The lurid, limpid fury that Phil had carefully banked before leaving burns back to life in his chest now, saying what he knows to be true out loud. “And he believes those things in part because he thinks he loves you.”

Phil didn’t tell Techno—he would have had a fit, and maybe snapped Sam’s neck, not that Phil would’ve been too pressed to stop him—but he’d walked in on an entirely different thing just a day or two after Dream’s first steps. He’d closed the door the moment he realized what was going on, but skin on skin, Sam holding Dream like a worshiper at the feet of an idol: Sam is fooling himself too. “And I think you might have used him. Just a thought.”

The air of the workshop is cold in Phil’s lungs as he draws in a careful breath. He’s always wary of losing his temper. It’s one thing to do it in front of Techno, who’s plenty immortal himself and could probably withstand an accidental eyeful; it’s another thing entirely to do it in a place not specially warded and enchanted and lined brick to brick with sigils to keep the eldritch from spilling everywhere. Once it gets out, there’s no getting it back in, so: deep breaths. Bit by bit, the inferno simmers low. His feathers ease back down. Benihime’s howls fade away.

Sam swallows hard, his throat bobbing in the dark. His new eye throws off bits of light when he blinks. He stands, and he smooths off his pants, and there are a thousand, a million words caught in Phil’s throat, held fast only by the pacts of gods, as the measly little mongrel of a creeper before him says, “I only do what he lets happen to him.”

Dream’s earnest face, his faint smile, drift in a golden-brown smudge across Phil’s eyes. “He only does what I let him do to me.” 

Philza remembers a time before the gods walked the earth. A time before monsters and a time before the Builders. He even remembers a time before the Servers, though that’s a secret sealed in blood and ichor he’ll only divulge if he wishes to die. He remembers floods and famines and foul, fetid plagues. He remembers every bone broken, every life lost. He remembers the Nether before it was a ruin of hellfire. He remembers the End before the night swallowed it whole. He remembers the Ancient Cities when they were not so ancient, before the sculk sprayed its spores, before the Warden—the real one, not a plaything for a pathetic, mewling nuisance to emulate—came through the Builders’ doorway.

Phil has been empresses, wild children, healers, teachers, gods in human skin. Phil is the oldest thing he knows.

He feels every inch his age and horror and terrible, untethered knowledge as he sheds his skin into tongues of flame.

His limbs are End in their own way, cold Void, but that’s just because of his ill-advised dealings with the Ender King. The rest of him is Blaze Empress to the bone, blessed by Hell, kissed by Death. What manner of creature could stand against his full glory, the sheer brutality of his rage? Certainly not a silly little wannabe immortal with wide, stupefied eyes and a dumb, slack mouth. Certainly not a pitiful sack of meat and bone that whirls to pick up a golden trident and is struck down between the shoulder blades with the tip of a blade whittled so finely it winnows the ligaments of his vertebrae and sticks him to the wall opposite, where he screams and curses and makes all manner of noise.

Phil chuckles, amused. It’s a sound that no mortal was meant to hear. Quite possibly it ruptures one or both of Sam’s cochleae, because the man’s ears start to bleed as he shrieks. It’s a shame. Phil had a whole spiel ready to go.

Glossy black bodies wobble across the skylight, squawk in alarm; as one, the murder takes off to tattle to his wife. Phil throws his head back, all glorious mane of sun and storm, and cackles. Benihime has already pierced Sam’s heart, is poisoning him from the inside, a slow death by unstoppable self-mutilation: informing Death would be a mercy. 

Phil folds himself back demurely into his facsimile of a body. In this way, he and Sam share something. He smooths his hair back under his hat, ducks under the doorframe, and gives the workshop a fond little pat on the wall. He’s about ten paces away when the whole thing, outbuildings and all, burst into flame. He’s twenty when he starts to laugh.

He’s forty when he starts to cry.

#dream smp #dream smp fic #dreblr #cdream #csam #cphilza #cawesamdream #it is heavily implied #chrys writes

[sunshine-in-a-bottle]

It's @draw-rin Birthday, so guess what, we're doing Awesamdream content. This is also an excuse to show off a snippet of the prison smut.

@ufuckingpastry here <3 have content

#my writing #cawesamdream #i am considering the benefits of shedding my skin and becoming a skeleton #yes this is still a wip dont fucking look at me like that #you know how many notes ive had to take? theres a fucking document i have for writing smut now. there are Do's and Don'ts #the things i do for writing

[apple-but-sour]

Alright I'll admit one thing and it's that the "some people in Dreblr think c!Sam is canonically sexually predatory towards c!Dream" thing isn't coming from nowhere but rather from Sif's discourse ask game I'm pretty sure and like, I don't know what happened there. To me the idea of c!Sam being attracted to c!Dream is fanon stemming from how some of the canon is coded not something explicitly textual. And if you decide to treat c!Sam's scrapbooking seriously he isn't only weird about c!Dream like why is this guy obsessively collecting images of hot men at all.

#excuse you ppl like cpunz and cquackity are also in that book don't single dream out #do not approve #cawesamdream

[llitchilitchi]

we don't talk about Sam finding Dream still hiding in his cell post Techno's escape enough. the absolute terror as Sam finds him before he's beaten and dragged out of his hiding spot, the begging of 'please don't tell Quackity that I'm still here'. the next time we see him he is behind glass like a butterfly on display.

#litchi.txt #dsmp #dreblr #cawesamdream demons clawing at my skull

[call-me-apple]

I think c!awesamdreamers should start participating in ship wars cuz the sheer audacity required for that would be absolutely hilarious

#cawesamdream in gay love made for each other 🥰 #dsmpshipping #c!awesamdream

[rutadales]

couple of doods

#cdream #cawesamdude #briefly #implied abuse #I love cawesamdream bc i can just draw a grinch hand hitting dream and ive perfect captured their dynamic #dsmp #dream smp #root doodles

[swordfright]

in my head there exists a cursed sequel to scheherazade where cdream propositions csam post-daedalus specifically because he wants to prove to himself that he’s not scared of sam anymore and to prove to sam that he’s in control now, as like a demonstration of reclaimed agency. also dream is trying to process his own trauma by reframing sam’s attraction to him as an exploitable weakness/failing on sam’s part, no longer an ongoing threat to dream's safety etc etc anyway it does not end well

#every day i restrain myself from releasing the most rancid cawesamdream content #everyone should clap i think

[demonstars]

girls when they think about cdrunz and cdnf at the same time for more than five seconds and pass out

#i don't think about cawesamdream because then I get a tummy ache and die. #star rambles

[csueno]

hellfire cawesamdream U agree

#WHY HER SMOLDERING EYES STILL SCORCH MY SOULLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

[lookinghalfacorpse]

hear me out:  c!dream as objectively, undeniably beautiful.

i like the idea that very few people on the server have actually seen his face.  sapnap and george have, of course, and maybe a few other members of the og eight, but after things started going downhill, he was very insistent on wearing the mask around everyone and was usually dressed in thick cloaks and heavy armor.  underneath all the layers, however, he is a very pretty boy.  he’s well-built, with broad shoulders and strong arms.  he’s powerful.  lean.  his face grants him a bit of androgyny; his eyelashes are full and thick, his features are delicate and thin, his eyes are bright, and his skin is sun-kissed.  

and don’t get me started on his voice.  smooth when he argues, charming when he laughs.  it’s easy to believe him when he talks.  besides that, however, most of his beauty is hidden.

maybe his mask was taken from him as he was put into the prison.  perhaps it was public, or maybe it was done in a private moment between him and sam.  either way, no one expected him to look like... That.  some people imagined him as a monster, whatever their private definition of that word was (a freak of nature with too many eyes?  a man with a lop-sided smile and yellow teeth?) but he is, in fact, just a boy.  and a good-looking one, at that.

some people are surprised.

sam is among them.  there’s some pride in being the one to unveil the monster, he thinks as he holds the mask in his hands, but he’s taken off-guard by what he sees.  he would never, EVER say this out loud, and it certainly doesn’t help the... Everything between the two of them.  sam isn’t self-aware enough to realize the exact ways which it affects them.  does looking into a pair of pretty green eyes make him Less likely to strike, or more?

quackity also notices.  quackity Does voice it.  (he Gets it, alright?  big q is also a beautiful boy and now he has this ugly scar across his face, and it’s terrible.  there’s opportunity for humiliation here.)  one time, after a session, he took the time to sit down and let dream know Exactly how he looked.  he pulled out his most vivid, poetic words to describe his newly hollowed cheeks, the darkness under his eyes that aged him, how terrible each new scar is.  he pokes at dream’s body with a blade as he speaks, using it like a pointer as he describes various flaws.  dream flinches.  dream might have cried.

(sam’s terrible realization is that dream is, somehow, still pretty.  in a torn-apart, fallen-angel type of way.  he would never, ever say it out loud.)

technoblade doesn’t see dream’s face until he walks into the cell himself (if dream hadn’t screamed his name so quickly, techno might not have known who he was).  he’s a piglin, but he’s lived with humans for many many years and he likes to think he’s familiar with the culture well enough to identify an attractive one when he sees them.  dream fits the description.  he’s starved and unhealthy, sure, but those eyes and lashes are so unmistakably pretty.  he doesn’t do anything with this new information, but he Does raise a brow in sam’s direction.

punz sees his face for the first time shortly after the breakout.  having next to no equipment or armor, dream hasn’t found a replacement for the mask and he makes no comment on it.  punz thinks (hopes?) that it might become regular between them; now that there’s nothing to hide, maybe dream will take the mask off more.  at least during quiet moments, you know?  the next time they meet, the mask is back on.  and the next.  and the next

dream is mostly unaware of how people react to him.  does he look more of a monster now?

#i know this isn't like A Hot New Take but it's a take i wanted to get my two cents in about lmao #dreblr #cdream #csam #ctechnoblade #cpunz #cdrunz #cawesamdream #c!awesamdream #c!dream #c!sam #c!technoblade #c!techno #c!punz #i hate tags i hate tags i hate tags #drabbles #i got more to say just give me a second lmao #pretty boy

[chrysalizzm]

[wip] inspo from this post by @kiuda im drawing smth for all of them i prommy but uhhh heres the lineart for cawesamdream

warnings: mild nudity, implied abuse

#dream smp #dreblr #nudity cw #implied abuse tw #cdream #csam #cawesamdream #chrys draws

[negativepeanuthoarder]

ok brainrot so i don't think abt it while I do hw

cSamnap where it's in the prison and cSapnap came there for something to do after feeling abandoned and cSam lets this one person finally have an affect on him after closing everyone else off to be this stoic warden character and they slowly grow on one another and bond and are gentle and trusting with one another,.

When cDream escapes the prison cSam does what he does in canon and grabs cRanboo to blackmail cTechno with only for cTechno to turn around and do the same thing by grabbing cSapnap and threatening to kill him so cSam releases cRanboo

also this could provide some interesting parallels to cRivalsduo because of the whole 'emotional mortal who needs stability' and 'god/demigod/whatever the hell sam is who shouldn't be as involved in this shit as they are' schtick both of them have going on.

Also this further complicates cAwesamDream and cDreamnap because of the whole betrayal aspect. I might just write the cRanboo cSapnap hostage exchange scene though

[apple-but-sour]

I think that a lot of people (not targeted) conflate intimacy with romantic or sexual connotations. Like c!sam can be creepily possessive of c!dream without wanting to like- ya know. Imo, what he wants is an inherently personal connection but it doesn't mean he would take c!dream out to a candlelit dinner or anything

Also he's way too repressed to act on anything

the scrapbook of attractive dangerous people tho...

That's like an actual thing I've seen people who are into c!Awesamdream say. That even if the guy was canonically attracted to c!Dream he'd probably repress the hell out of it an not actually act on it coz passing that boundary is not something he could justify to himself.

And either way the attraction is mostly kept as hypotheticals and non-canon fan content. BUT THE SCRAPBOOKING THAT SHIT IS CRAAAZY BRO. And even then I think it's just an improvised bit the implications of which weren't really considered.

#apple answers #anon #unless... samawesamdude drop the dr3blr url #cawesamdream

[theminecraftbox]

(CW: discussion of dubcon/assault, pls ignore if you need to!) i was idly scrolling through your #cawesamdream tag and some of the asks/answers got me thinking...honestly, the thing that frightens me the most about any scenario where dream and sam are sleeping together during daedalus is that dream has to convince sam that dream wants this, dream is the sole beneficiary of this. he can't refuse or ask sam to stop because that would break the fragile illusion that sam isn't abusing his authority.

/dsmp rp

actually Daedalus awesamdream is so compelling to me because it’s such a reversal of their power dynamic! This time it’s Dream in charge and Sam at his mercy.

But as with everything in Daedalus (and the post-prison dynamic in general), it would be meant to invoke and play on the power dynamic that existed in prison! So what does Daedalus sex mean, what does it imply (on the assumption that no sex actually happened in prison)?

Well. It means an incontrovertible admission that attraction was a part of their dynamic while Dream was imprisoned. It means Dream is making an accusation. He would be saying, look, you wanted this, and I know you wanted this. Look, is this all you wanted? You can have it for free! It’s nothing worth withholding.

And it means Dream is telling himself: look, this isn’t frightening. This is mine to give and I’m giving it away. This is mine and I want it, actually; this is my power.

It’s a way to redefine and recontextualize his relationship with Sam! So Sam hurt him, abused him, betrayed him, had him tortured. Well, fine. Sam also had a little crush, clearly! His head wasn’t on straight (hah), and Dream can use that! Not only can Dream use that, he can understand it and work within its parameters. He can reciprocate, even! Now that Dream’s out of prison and the past can be wiped away, they can be friends (enemies? Nah, no need: friends) with benefits or whatever and there is no reason whatsoever for Dream to be uncomfortable with the idea. It’s not like Dream can’t see the appeal, objectively, and isn’t that what this should be? Isn’t that what everything should be? Objective.

To Sam, it’s terrifying, and heady, and confusing. Is this a demand? What is Dream telling him? Sam doesn’t want to admit what he wants (Sam can hardly conceive what is it he wants). Sam would find it much easier to stomach the idea that Dream is seducing him or pressuring him than to admit that he’s acting on his own initiative or desires. But part of Sam still probably does see this as power Dream is ceding to him, and that’s the operative part, the part that Sam is actually attracted to—he wants Dream to be his more than he wants to have sex with Dream.

This would be such a complicated undertaking for Sam in the throes of his Daedalus breakdown, and in the midst of it, I think he’d find himself acting on that repression with an enthusiasm he can’t place or explain to himself. This is power over Dream, and yet that power is what kept this act so strictly forbidden before; and now that Dream’s got power over Sam, this is now something that’s allowed.

Honestly I could keep going about this. Daedalus awesamdream is craaaaazy.

#sorry this ask old affff #c!awesamdream #tw dubcon #they’re crazy #daedalus arc

[respiteresponse]

lets say hypothetically if desertduo got put into a cawesamdream prison duo situation type of deal. well how do you think they would fare .

#going off the idea that grian is sam and scar is dream but feel free to swap it