Hello and welcome to Z-Team.png, and despite the username it is an all-character Dispatch ask blog.
This blog is 18+ due to possible mature themes, any minors found interacting with or following the blog will be blocked.
I am employed and disabled so it may take me some time to answer my inbox but I will always do my best to send things out.
As stated above this blog is 18+ so you are free to send suggestive or NSFW-based asks.
Any and all ships are fine (other than the obvious ones that shouldn't be touched like Robert and Chase, etc). Do not start ship wars or try to convince me to only stick to one — asks or DMs like that will get you ignored and probably blocked.
I'm fine with magic, AU, genderbend, etc asks. However I will not break a character's canon sexuality or similar prospects — so, no, Flambae will not date a woman and further notions like that. If I mess up and overlook something like this do not be afraid to send something in my inbox or DMs about it so long as you are civil.
When sending things in my inbox please be specific in who you are directing things to and keep pairing names understandable (i.e; sonar x waterboy, etc. or using their non-hero/villain names because I do not keep up on pairing titles).
If you wish to direct something to me, the blog owner, please refer to me as EXILE(D).
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TAGGING SYSTEM ;;
EXILED.txt ;; OOC posts of any kind
zteam.txt ;; regular text posts
zteam.png ;; posts that have visuals of any sort
press conference.txt ;; inbox posts
janitor's closet ;; suggestive / NSFW posts (has it's own tag so you can filter it out easier if necessary)
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i start the morning with my usual bullshit over breakfast. "when do i get to leave?" "will you let me the fuck go?" "you're a prick. this sucks."
no response to any complaints, taunts, not even to his threats.
"dream?"
he finally looks up from his meal. he's slow moving. i get frustrated that i can't see his expression.
"what?" dream simply responded.
my brows furrow. something wasn't right here, and i was going to figure out what it was. did something happen back home? is someone hurt? dead? did something happen to dream? is he hurt? DYING? my heart rate picks up and i don't know why.
"tell me what's wrong with you."
"no, no, tommy it's.. alright. it's nothing." he sounds exhausted.
"tell me!!! you're not being mean or weird like you always do, you're not even touching your food, you're not lookin normal buddy, tell me what's going on!"
"fuck, tom. relax." he huffs. and tries to get up, noticeably inhaling sharply as he does.
"i won't shut up til you tell me what your fuckin problem is." i cross my arms, trying to.. prove my point or something. put my foot down.
dream motions for me to come with him, i notice he's taking me to where he usually lays and relaxes. i follow along, though he's walking slower than usual. he stops in his spot, prepares it, and sits down, every little step of it looking more tiring. he finally gets somewhat comfortable, then starts to speak as i sit with him,
"i'm just having... some pain, is all."
"pain?"
"yes, tommy. pain. i'm an older man, who has fought a lot of battles. it's been.. a long time. i have some.. chronic pain." he mumbles the last part, like it's a swear word. my tail flicks, and i look away, realizing what that entails. i frown.
"oh..."
"yes. so, you get to be left alone today, happy? go.. play, or something." he half groans the last part as he adjusts his position, appearing to try to improve some soreness in his arm or shoulder by stretching it out. i wait for a moment, watching him.
"okay. wait here."
"what?" he stares at me in a confusion.
"i'll be right back!" i shrug off any of dream's questions and toddle off, ready to start preparing the things i needed. he just stays where he's laying, and closes his eyes, hoping he could sleep through the misery for a while.
when dream wakes up, he grabs me by the throat on instinct seeing someone so close to him, messing with him. i move a hand up and grab at him, gentler than normal, and try to squeak out,
"it's me!"
his grip loosens. he seems to process it then immediately stops, almost too quickly. like he felt bad.
"what.. are you..." dream starts to wake up more and look around, but he's confused. he's still in pain, but he's more comfortable now. with a blanket over him and everything. soft things all around him, like a nest. i have something in my hands, and i motion for him to take it.
"what is this?"
"it's made from some herbs and like, stuff. tubbo was into stuff like that, he taught me how to make it. it should ease your pain. i think you should actually take real drugs though. like medication. not heroin. and smoke some weed or something. i don't know." i rambled, losing my train of thought, getting a little embarrassed.
dream eyes the jar with suspicion, but takes it anyways. he asks every question about the ingredients and how it was made, trying to figure out if i'm lying. i explain myself with no problem. there was nothing to lie about. i made it to ease his pain, and i meant it.
it takes a while, but eventually dream takes the homemade medication. as we wait for it to work, i make sure dream stays hydrated. he's in too much pain to eat, so the snacks i brought need to wait a while. eventually though, dream seems to slip into a calmer state, his body language less tense.
"tom." he spoke, catching my attention.
"yeah?"
"it doesn't hurt much anymore. not right now." dream spoke gently, somewhat slurred. he still seemed quite tired. "... thank you, tommy."
"it's nothing." i look away. my face gets hot.
dream grabs me by my shirt and pulls me into the little 'nest', forcing me to curl up with him. i grabbed at him and hid my face into his chest without complaints. feeling his arms wrap around me, the warmth blooms in my body. he pets my head,
"you're a good boy, tommy. a good son.... my good boy.." he goes off into murmurs, snuggling me sweetly. i had never seen him like this before. my heart races in my chest as i breathe in his scent and close my eyes, relaxing into him fully.
mama knows how wrong i was treated by allll the sick, icky men out there. mama knows how bad they hurt me. mama knows where they touched me. mama knows how i bled, and cried, and bruised. mama knows.
because she watches.
mama takes care of me after every beating, every rape, every molestation, mama wipes away my tears. mama takes care of me. i'm safe with mama. mama watches so i don't get hurt too bad. mama watches to protect me. mama mama mama mama mama mama. mama kisses away my aches and pains. mama puts bandaids on all my scrapes. mama squeezes me tight and kisses me on the head. mama soothes my sore parts.. mama mama mama!!!
sexualizing my constant state of anxiety rn.
imagining him purposefully making loud noises, yelling at me, scaring me... just being on edge all the time, never knowing when he's going to slip into rage, or beating me.. thinking abt him overstimulating me and purposefully sending me into attacks, just so he can hush me, and force a pacifier in my mouth, some noise cancelling headphones on my head.. cooing at me,
"ohhh, tom. it's fine. you're alright. i know dad can be scary sometimes, but you know what you did.. you know you have to follow new rules now, baby. you just disappointed me, is all. it's okay, we're still learning, aren't we? i'm sorry, kiddo. you'll do better next time, won't you puppy? mm? you wanna be good for me right?"
and i'm sobbing in his arms, shaking violently, but i calm down as he squeezes me tight, the pressure relaxes me and so does the ache of my bruises being pressed. i listen to him coo kind words through the headphones, my sobbing slowly stops. i'm curled up with him, breathing slow now, heart pumping normally, and exhausted. he wipes my tears and puts me to bed with my stuffie.
i beg him not to leave me tonight. i grab at him. i break into tears again. he crawls into bed with me, snuggling up as close as he can get. he knew this would happen. he knows i need him.
