Chapter Text
Dream had always despised chaos. He liked control and controlled environments, where nothing was out of place and everything operated smoothly, as it was meant to. When something he was responsible for didn’t go to plan, if the stars didn’t align as he had told them to, he felt lost. Chaos wasn’t comforting to him, it wasn’t fun, it was scary. Dream didn’t like to be scared. If sand somehow found a way to slip through his fingers, or if the tide pulled him too strongly and he ended up in a riptide, Dream got angry and ansty and even sometimes threw up. Which is why it was strange that his two best friends were some of the most careless gods in the world.
Sapnap, the God of War, and George, the God of Night, grew up in the same realm as Dream for only one reason; their parents were friends. Sapnap’s father, Bad, the God of Mischief and George’s father, Frost, the God of Winter, were best friends with the Goddess of their realm, Puffy, who coincidentally happened to be Dream’s mother. The boys grew up side-by-side, under their parent’s watchful eyes.
George, the oldest of the three, and Sapnap, the youngest, displayed personalities of stark contrast to Dream. Throughout their young lives, Sapnap was always seeking out risks as George laughed along beside him. When Dream’s heart jumped at Sapnap’s recklessness, George would egg him on. If Dream let out a nervous word or protest, George would just roll his eyes and tell him that they would be fine. That they knew their limits.
It was true enough, Dream learned, as they never seemed to get hurt. Dream learned to trust them. Afterall, Dream couldn’t truly understand their godly abilities and the weight they had on a person. It was up to Sapnap and George to get rid of their stress by whatever means they deemed fit, and it was the role of Dream to tag along.
However, Dream wasn’t mortal, as much as he seemed like it. Unlike Sapnap and George, who were born with their godliness, Dream had to go out and find it. He was a Realm God, like his mother, which meant that, when he was of age, he had to find or overtake a realm in order to gain his divinity. Then, it was his duty to use his newfound power to protect his land.
When they were old enough, Dream, George and Sapnap travelled across the realms, hoping to find one either untouched or abandoned so that Dream could claim it. After growing up beside two Gods who were divine from birth, Dream was ready to be one with that power.
“It won’t be pleasant,” Dream remembered his mother’s warning. “Divinity is not an easy thing to take on.”
Dream wasn’t aware of just how painful it would be until it happened.
After weeks of travelling, they came across a beautiful land, teeming with a magic that Dream could almost taste.
“This is the one,” Dream told them, as they stood on the edge of the shimmering lake. Tall oak trees stood around them and the forest continued on for miles, across rolling hills and lush, green grass.
“It’s beautiful,” George said. “No doubt about that.”
They looked at Sapnap for his input.
“You know what I was thinking,” he said. “What if we built a house in the middle of the lake? That would be cool, right?”
Dream and George laughed at that, but agreed, and it was decided. This was their new home.
They began building their house in the middle of the lake, just as Sapnap wanted. George wasted no time in complaining about how that was the most difficult place to build a house, but they did it nonetheless.
It took weeks to build, laying each brick one by one, cutting down trees and making planks, hammering each nail, and Dream knew that if he was a god it would have been much quicker, but George convinced him to wait. He said that he would want somewhere comfortable to transition.
“How do you know?” Dream asked.
“I did my research,” George replied. “It’ll be days of pain, Dream. If I were you, I wouldn’t be so eager.”
But, Dream was eager. He had been waiting his whole life to gain this power, to be at one with his chosen land. His best friends were already gods, and Dream was tired of watching them and never being able to quite keep up, no matter how hard he tried.
Dream trusted George, though, and didn’t argue, but he worked harder than both of them, late into the night, screwing doors on hinges and carefully inserting glass into windows. His impatience seemed to pay off and the house was completed in due time.
When it was finished, the three of them stood at the edge of the lake, admiring their work. They watched the fish swim around through the glass in the upstairs aquarium that Sapnap built into the wall and smiled as the sun sank in the sky, shining through the leaves of the oak trees.
“It’s time,” Dream announced, holding tightly to George’s hand, “I am going to claim this realm tomorrow.”
George looked up at him with brown eyes, and Dream thought that was the first time he ever saw a flicker of fear in his gaze.
+++
Divinity tore through Dream like lightning. It burned him in hot flashes and he spent his first day as a god crying out in pain and thrashing in his bed. His new, godly power consumed him and ate away at his brain. It felt like his head was filled up with blades and every move he made made them cut deeper into his skull. Through his sweaty haze, he saw George, who stayed with him the whole time, calmly running his fingers through Dream’s hair and telling him that he would be alright. Dream told himself that as long as George’s eyes were looking into his, he could get through it. He could control his power.
“When will it stop?” he gasped into George’s shoulder, during a particularly painful surge of magic.
“Soon,” George whispered, running his hand along Dream’s spine. “Just hold on.”
The pain wasn't as intense the second day. His head still ached, and new waves of power still split him open, but they were fewer and Dream felt like he had more time to breathe. He spent these pockets of respite sleeping, for the past night was spent in tired agony, divinity withholding the ability to drift off.
The dawn of the third day saw the end of the flashes of pain that ripped through him, leaving him with only a headache. Dream was able to stand and eat, but he mostly slept. George never left his side.
The next day Dream felt better. When morning came, he left George snoring in bed, aching to be outside.
He was now god of this realm and magic surged through him, connecting him to his land. He felt a new found tether to this place, like he was now a piece of it that fit perfectly. He was one with all of existence and creation within his borders.
As he walked along the shoreline of their lake, he couldn’t help feeling like the attachment between him and this realm was meant to be.
+++
Dream liked to get to know the travellers that passed through his realm. If they were seeking a place to live and if Dream thought that they would respect him and his land, he gladly let them stay. Soon, he had fostered a small community. Alyssa and Callahan were the first people to build a home nearby. Alyssa was a very skilled builder, and soon had a lovely house on the edge of the lake. Callahan was very smart and became close friends with Sapnap, although he didn’t talk much.
Sam was the next person to enter Dream’s realm and stay. Sam told Dream about his talent with redstone and Dream could tell that he would be a good asset to have around. Plus, Sam was very kind and had no lust for power, which Dream respected.
Ponk was an interesting character, with his strange accent and affinity for lemon trees, but Dream saw no harm in letting him stay, and he brought character to the land. Anyway, they knew how to handle a bit of mischief.
More trees around the lake were cut down, and more houses were built. Their house on the lake became known as the “community house,” since it was where travellers would stay until they made their own shelter, or until they passed on to different lands.
Sapnap moved out after building his own house, still on the lake for some reason, but Dream and George stayed put. They felt no need to move, and Dream quite liked being able to keep an eye on the people who stayed there. He was all for judging people’s character in order to gauge the level of respect he should have for them.
+++
Now that Dream had this connection to the earth and all the magic that passed through it, he could feel Sapnap and George’s power. He felt the weight of George’s magic when he was near and it made him sleepy. He could now understand why George was so tired all the time. It felt like he was being pushed down into unconsciousness, so strong that sometimes Dream wondered how he could resist it.
The first time he felt Sapnap’s power, it scared him. His anger rippled through the earth, so strong that he tightened his fists. He felt the craving that Sapnap had, of conflict and violence and war. He didn’t know how hard it must be for Sapnap to constantly have to refuse it.
“I can feel your energy, Sapnap,” Dream told him one day, as they walked through the forest. “It runs through the air and the soil and, therefore, through me. I know how much you crave conflict but I need you to contain it. Can you do that?”
Sapnap tightened his jaw. “You sound like your mother, Dream.”
That faintly surprised Dream, but his mother must have felt Sapnap’s power too. She would have had to make sure he had a handle on it. To protect her people.
“I find it funny,” Sapnap said, with a spark behind his tone, “that you’ve known me my whole life, known who I am and how I act and yet you feel the need to ask me if I’m able to control it.”
Dream watched as Sapnap’s eyes lit up with rage.
“I have been controlling it, Dream! Do you know how much violence I’ve resisted?” He didn't wait for an answer. “Apparently you don’t! So don’t tell me that I need to contain my temptations because I already do! Every second of every day!”
With that, before he’d do something he’d regret, Sapnap stormed off, away from Dream and away from the lake. Off on his own to cool down.
+++
In their old town, one of Sapnap’s favourite games to play was taunting the biggest guy in the room. He would walk up to the strongest, tallest man in the local bar and call him a princess, which always seemed to rile them up enough to grab him by the collar. Dream and George would observe from their table as the man would head-butt Sapnap, trying to hide their smiles because they knew what would happen next.
Sapnap would say, “You call that a head-butt?”, which would embarrass the guy so much that he would just do it again, except harder.
That’s when Sapnap would take control. He was a performative fighter, always leaving the audience just as happy with the duel as himself. He’d smash his forehead into the man’s skull, leaving him dazed and stumbling. Sapnap would let him get his bearings, wait for him to throw a punch, dodge it and throw his own. With a broken nose, the man would advance again, earning him a punch to the gut.
If the guy still wouldn’t back down, Dream would usually step in, put a hand on his chest and tell him, “You’re fighting the God of War. You cannot win,” which would surprise the man, and leave him to grumble his way out the door.
Locals in their old town would often tell him that he should compete in the PvP arenas on the Hypixel realm and earn a crown, but the one thing Sapnap did not want was a reputation. He wanted mortals to challenge him. He enjoyed getting big, confident men so riled up that they threw the first punch, knowing all the while that he had the upper hand. He liked when they thought that they had a chance against him. It made beating them all the more satisfying.
These fights quenched Sapnap’s craving of violence for a while, but soon enough he’d find another traveller to pick on. Dream would sometimes ask George if he really had to get into another fight today, but George would just tell him that Sapnap knew his limits. If Sapnap needed to beat someone up, they let him, fearing the alternative. He was a war god, afterall.
Now, in their new realm, Sapnap couldn’t just go to the bar and take out his rage on some cocky tourist asshole. He struggled to keep his anger contained but it had been months since a good fight and his hands shook with pent up energy. The triggering of his temper was Dream’s fault, Sapnap knew, and the fact that Dream didn’t already know that Sapnap could handle his aggression really ticked him off. Sure, he could be violent at times, but he always reigned himself in and never wrecked anything even close to the havoc he craved.
He’d have to vent to George later about Dream’s ignorance. George knew how Dream could get. How he just didn’t understand how the brightness of the fire they showed to the world wasn’t even close to how blinding it could truly get. A god could burn the world if they wanted, if they caved in to their temptations and got lost in their downfalls. Sapnap hoped that Dream would soon be tempted to burn something. Then he would realize just how good Sapnap was at controlling his flames.
+++
Later that night, Dream stood upon a tall hill, looking over his small lakeside community. He didn’t regret what he asked Sapnap, knowing that his anger was an overreaction. Dream was well aware of how Sapnap got offended quickly and lost his temper easily. Surely he must have realized that he was being unreasonable. Of course Dream had to make sure his realm was under control. It was what he was meant to do.
Dream observed Alyssa, heading into her cottage for the night and saw Sapnap leaving the community house, crossing the bridge to his own. Dream guessed he probably had a talk with George about their fight and Dream decided to have his own. He hoped that, if Sapnap hadn’t already, George made him see sense.
“Hey,” Dream greeted, when he ascended the stairs to their bedroom.
George sat, cross-legged on their bed, wearing one of Dream’s shirts. The neckline was big on George, and exposed his collarbone, which Dream didn’t hesitate to kiss after he settled next to the smaller man.
“Hi,” George smiled, bringing his hand to the back of Dream's blond head and tilting it up so that their lips could meet.
Their kiss was short but sweet, more of an I missed you today, than anything else. When they parted, Dream relaxed against the bedframe and George moved to face him, taking his hand.
“I’m guessing Sapnap talked to you,” Dream said, to which George nodded whilst yawning.
“He did.”
Dream raised an eyebrow. “And…? He must realize that he overreacted.”
George frowned slightly at that.
“Well, that’s just Sapnap isn’t it?” George told him, “But it doesn’t mean his feelings aren’t real.”
Dream resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “And what are his real feelings?”
“Anger,” George responded, refusing to dismiss Sapnap’s emotions as easily as Dream, much to Dream’s annoyance. “He’s mad that you think he’d be the one to jeopardize this realm, Dream. He thinks you don’t trust him.”
“That’s not what I said,” Dream huffed.
George sighed, “Of course not, Dream. But don’t you know that Sapnap has learned how to control his violence?”
“Has he?” Dream asked, honestly not sure.
“Yes,” George responded firmly.
After a pause George settled in next to Dream, laying his head on his chest.
“You’re still new to your divinity, Dream,” he told him softly. “You have to remember that Sapnap and I are not. We know how to keep the balance between perpetuation and destruction. You will need to learn how to as well.”
“But I don’t feel a pull towards chaos, George,” Dream whispered. “Destruction isn’t tempting to me.”
George’s eyes slowly closed and he relaxed further into Dream’s side as he murmured, “Many things can lead to destruction, Dream. Sometimes it's not so obvious.”
On that night of September 4th, George fell asleep for nine days.
+++
This wasn’t abnormal for the god, as he had always had a problem with his sleeping pattern. As he grew older, he would sleep for longer and longer periods of time and it became normal for George to sleep for multiple days straight. He knew that it was because of his divinity, and that, naturally, the God of Night would spend more time sleeping than awake, but he hated it. Especially because, for the past few years, instead of sleeping for a couple days, he’d go through periods of sleeping for a couple weeks. He would fall asleep one night and wake up a week or weeks in the future. He’d then stay awake for around the same amount of time, but inevitably fall back into a long slumber.
George had really bizarre dreams. They never meant anything and he rarely had the same dream twice, but he never told anyone- not even Dream. His dreams were the only thing that he liked about sleeping and he wanted to keep them all to himself. If George had a dream that he thought was especially interesting, he would write it down when he woke, just to remember. Sometimes George had trouble remembering things. His mind could get confused about whether something happened in a dream or in real life, which led to some awkward conversations.
The particular dream that George had on the last night of his nine-day slumber, started off pretty normal, for a dream of course. He was alone in a forest of their old realm. It was a bright, sunny day and the rays of sunlight washed over the trees above, creating a soft, almost magical glow on the forest floor. George was having a very nice time, picking mushrooms and petting soft rabbits, when he heard a voice.
“Dream?” George called, for that was who the voice sounded like.
George’s dreams were always pleasant, so with no reason to fear, he began to look for the owner of the voice. Besides, he was sure it was Dream. Who else could it be?
“Dream?” George called again, standing up from the mossy rock on which he had been perched. “Dream, come out. You’re not going to scare me.”
“Who’s Dream?” a voice said from behind a large tree. The voice was deeper than Dream’s but still had the same familiarity. It sent a chill down George’s spine.
“Uh…” George faltered, but then remembered that this was only a dream. Nothing scary ever happened to him in his dreams. He was safe.
George stepped closer to the tree and asked, “Aren’t you?”
“No,” the voice said, returning to its normal pitch. Dream’s pitch. “I am not Dream.”
George reached the tree and without hesitation looked behind it. A very tall figure stood before him, wearing a large green cape. The figure also wore a mask with two diagonal slashes for eyes and a wide smile. Two halos that crossed in the centre hung suspended above his head and George also noticed that he was floating a few inches above the ground.
“Woah,” George breathed, just at the sheer size of him. He had never seen anyone like this in his dreams before. “Who are you then, ‘Not-Dream’?”
The figure chuckled. “I am a god, George.”
George just stared, “So am I. You’re not that special.”
“Ah,” Not-Dream said, floating around George. “I know. The God of Night. Not a very pleasant role, is it?”
George crossed his arms, “It’s not that bad. I have my dreams when I’m asleep and my friends when I’m awake.”
“Yes, but you’re mostly asleep, aren’t you?”
George glared, “Why are you here? You’re disrupting my dream. It was quite enjoyable before you showed up.”
The god paused in its flying, “That’s quite rude.”
George just shrugged and the god frowned under his mask.
After a beat of silence, he asked, “What was I disrupting?”
George took a second to respond, “You scared away my rabbits.”
“Well, then,” the god said, sarcastically, “I better leave.”
George rolled his eyes. This floating god was starting to get on his nerves.
“You didn’t answer my question,” George pointed out. “Why are you here?”
The god languidly floated by and answered, “For fun.”
George followed as he went deeper into the thick of the forest. They soon found themselves under tall trees with thick branches, which blocked the sun out, making it quite dark. It was impossible to read the sky to tell the time, so Not-Dream materialized a watch and studied it’s face.
“It’s getting late, Georgie,” he mused. “Are you not afraid of monsters?”
George just stared at the watch, which, now that he had no further use for it, the god tossed to the ground.
“What the… How did you-?” George spluttered. “Where did that come from?”
“Nothing,” the god shrugged. “I just willed it into existence. It’s not that hard.”
George picked up the watch and turned it over in his hand.
“That’s amazing,” he said softly.
The god beamed.
“You like it?” he asked. “I could make you something, if you want.”
George looked up at the floating god, who slowly drifted closer.
“Like what?” George inquired.
“Hm…” the god hummed, putting a finger to his chin and studying the God of Night. Then, he perked up suddenly, “I got it,” he said, and flicked his wrist.
He reached his hand down for George to see, revealing a thin, golden chain in the centre of his palm. George picked it up slowly, watching it untangle as it was lifted from the god’s large hand. George let it dangle in the air, admiring the pendant, which was a small crescent moon.
“It’s beautiful,” he said.
Not-Dream waved a hand, “It’s nothing. Literally.”
George graced him with warm, brown eyes, “Thank you.”
The god blushed and cleared his throat in embarrassment, “I can put it on you, if you want,” he offered.
George nodded, handed him the necklace, and he gently floated behind George to clasp it around his neck.
“Okay,” the god said, quieter than he meant to. “It’s on.”
George turned to face him and, after a brief silence, Not-Dream noted, “It’s about time you woke up.”
George just gave him a quizzical look, “How long have I been asleep?”
“Long enough.”