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lookinghalfacorpse · 2 years ago

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ttdtn extra scene 1 (?)

honestly surprised that i haven’t written any extra scenes for ‘the trees deny themselves nothing’ yet! everything has just kinda fit inside the main fic.

i’ll be honest, idk if this will be an extra scene or if it will be part of the sequel. so, if it’s part of the sequel, then enjoy the preview i guess!

read the full fic on ao3 here, info and trigger warnings here

Chex was the biggest ram in the barn. Being a big ram didn’t mean much; he had a lot of respect among his fellow sheep, sure, but he still felt small alongside the horses next door, the mules they could see from their field, and even the goats across from them. He had a solid set of horns upon his head, sure, but he couldn’t hope to reach much further than a human’s lower thigh (or a piglin’s upper calf). But, neither the horses, the mules, nor the goats could reach him from within their enclosures, so Chex confidently trekked across the stall and bumped his dark snout against the feeders, wondering why they were still empty at this hour of the morning.

Philza was still in bed.

Technoblade was worried. Upon waking, he liked to play a game where he guessed what breakfast was based on just the smell. He was very good at it– sometimes he’d walk into the kitchen with his eyes closed, listing off the ingredients he recognized and the way he thought they combined, while Phil chuckled at him. But there was no breakfast that morning; not for Chex or for Technoblade. Philza was still in bed.

“Phil?” Techno pushed a knuckle against the slightly open, wooden door. Since Dream has been staying with them, Phil kept the door ajar in case he was needed throughout the night. But Dream wasn’t there anymore, and Philza was still in bed.

“Eh? Phiiiiil?”

Phil was lying comfortably on his side, hands placed gently on the mattress beside him, wings gently folded. Poised and beautiful, even in his sleep. Placing a knee on the bed, Techno’s weight indented into the fabric and dipped it, jostling his partner’s body.

“Philza…”

“Mornin’,” came Phil’s drowsy answer. His voice was a bit odd. Heavy with slumber, yet brittle.

“Mornin’.” Techno laid more of his body on the bed, reaching an arm across Phil so he could brace an arm against the other side of the mattress. He knew from experience that if he put too much weight on Phil, he’d hurt him, so he was careful about where he placed his limbs. It was difficult when he was bigger than the bedframe. “You’re still in bed.”

Phil stretched, pulling his body into a straight line, from his spine to his feet. Techno felt him shuffle, the fabric of his robe and blanket bunching up. “Nothing gets past you, hah?”

“Never. I’m brilliant and observant.” When Phil settled back into position, making no real effort to get out of bed, Techno nuzzled his head into Phil’s shoulder. “Chex is gonna be mad at you.”

“Mm.”

“And Saffron. And the chickens.”

"Mm-hm."

"And there's a big pig who, uh, is a bit worried about ya."

A smirk made an indent on the side of Phil's cheek. "Donna?"

Donna was one of their heavier pigs. Techno grinned as he answered, "Yeah. Donna. Totally."

"Well, I'd hate to make her worry. But my head hurts like a motherfucker," Phil replied, solemn and musing, "and I'm finding that I'm not all that helpful these days, anyway."

Techno worried that it was about this. A few days ago, Dream stormed off into the forest, limping with his wooden prosthetic, and they haven't heard a peep from him since. Not even a letter. Techno knew his old roommate well, and he knew that Dream's shame was often misplaced. He assumed that the kid must be embarrassed or afraid of being a burden. Philza assumed he must be angry, which is an easy assumption to make when you’re also angry with yourself.

Techno rubbed the flat plateau of his forehead and snout on Phil's shoulder. "You were helpful." Techno responded in a low tone, "Not your fault certain people had ulterior motives."

Phil sighed as he rolled over, pressing his back against the mattress. He adjusted himself so he could meet Techno’s forehead with his own. “I should’ve known better.”

“He should’ve known better. I’m almost done fixin’ up your armor, you know.”

Phil hummed, satisfied, and let himself sit still under Techno’s warmth. Techno let his eyes fall shut, and they burned behind his eyelids. In truth, he didn’t sleep too well, either.

“Painkillers for your headache?” Techno offered.

“Please, mate.”

-----------

Dream was still in bed. He didn’t know why.

It wasn’t his bed. Not the bed he set up in the prison, which was a little bit too soft and made his hips ache in the morning (He wondered, sometimes, if there was something wrong with his hips. What are the chances he’d broken something?). Not the guest bed in the arctic, where he’d spend the night under a pile of dogs (He felt cold without them).

He was in Sam’s bed.

He didn’t remember how it started. They were arguing– no, debating– and then it turned into an argument when Sam raised his voice. The logic made no sense, and it was moving too quickly, as things usually go with the Warden. Dream knew this type of conversation well, and he thought he was good at navigating them and taking advantage of obvious inconsistencies. But Sam said something that really pissed him off (He didn’t remember what), and Dream pushed him back, and then somehow they were even closer. Dream was scared, and he was angry, and he was betrayed. It felt better when they were kissing.

He woke with a burning pain at the amputation site.

He tried to ignore it and go back to sleep. Sleep was a favorite pain reliever these days, especially when he felt lethargic and heavy enough that he was able to ignore his body in favor of rest. But today, the pain gripped his lungs and made his teeth grind together, the muscles of his back contracting as he curled in on himself.

Sam seemed to manifest from nowhere. Pain made Dream’s mind fuzzy, which he hated, and he often missed important details such as when someone entered or exited a room. Perhaps Sam spent all night beside him, or perhaps he just walked in from the kitchen. Either way, he towered over Dream, eyes scanning along his body the same way he might look at a machine that wasn’t working. Dream was used to it.

Wordlessly, Sam took the blanket off of him.

It wasn’t an aggressive movement– in fact, it was actually rather slow and unrushed, but it was authoritative enough to convey a typical agreement of their relationship: “I will look at you now.” Sam took the stump of Dream’s leg in one of his palms and lifted it slightly. The incisions he made a while back were now pinkish scars, blending in well with all the other scars that littered the area. It was an ugly limb, Dream thought. But it wasn’t any uglier that morning than it was any morning before– no extra swelling, no leakage, and no redness.

“Does it hurt often?” Sam asked him.

“Yes,” Dream replied stiffly.

Sam’s expression didn’t change. Dream wondered for a moment if he didn’t hear him, or if his own voice was too hoarse to be audible.

Quietly, Sam raised the leg up even further, and Dream whimpered from the strain. He barely even felt as Sam pressed his lips, softly, against the scarred skin.

“I have potions,” Sam stated.

“Don’t,” came Dream’s stern reply.

#ttdtn #the trees deny themselves nothing #ttdtn extra scenes #dsmpshipping #awesamdream #c!awesamdream #dreblr #drabbles

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