DreamSMP oneshots

put me back in the cell to rot

summary:

"I found you," a voice coos from the treeline, and Dream can do nothing but move his eyes, which are now wide with panic. His body aches, unable to move. A scoff sounds from his left, and footsteps approach, heavy and daunting.

"What's wrong Dreamy, tired?" The man chuckles, devoid of any humour. "Didn't you just have two years to rest in prison Dream? Pathetic if you ask me."

or; Dream is released from prison after everyone forgives him. Well, almost everyone.

tw// GRAPHIC descriptions of violence, torture, blood 

(proceed with caution)

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The blonde man is lost. He doesn't know what to do with himself anymore. After two torturous years, he was finally released from prison. He remembers the day like it was- it was yesterday. Time was no longer a concept that was easy to understand for Dream, and it felt like thousands of days passed before the sunset in the evening. After two years of nothing but a ticking clock and the dark obsidian, you can imagine his view on things would be skewed. Especially since he often threw the clock in the lava once he got annoyed at the ticking.

It's only been a day (if that) since he was left to fend for himself; however, the man couldn't function. He had to go back in the cell, he was meant to be there till the day he died, yet here he was, walking and breathing. Well, if you could call it walking.

When Dream was released, Sam had just let him walk out on his own, and you can imagine how that went for a man who had barely moved in two years. Dream managed to get an impressive 10 metres away from the obsidian hellhole before he was out of breath, wheezing and in pain. His legs ached from the minimal movement, and his head spun. He glanced towards the path to the mainland, feeling a shiver run down his spine. They don't want you there. Dream sighs, knowing it's true. So, instead of returning to the SMP and his old home, he walked into the woods.

There was no way he could get to the greater SMP before he passed out, and that would be highly embarrassing for him. The once-great tyrant, feared by all the lands, could no longer walk for more than a minute without collapsing. Could no longer hold his own body weight, despite weighing anything barely anymore. Even a minute of movement was impressive for him.

The people in the SMP expected him to be in this state; he knew this. He also knew that most of them who were now feeling guilty for imprisoning him wanted to help him. But he doesn't want their help, not after what he'd done to them two years ago. Not after they locked him away in a torture chamber for those following two years , even if he deserved it. Dream's head hits a branch, snapping him from his thoughts. His muscles screamed at him to sit down and rest, but he hadn't gone very far from the prison, the terrifying building still towering over him. He couldn't rest until he was far away, no matter what his body says. He ignores the protests from aching legs and back and pushing forwards.

Though, Dream's shoulder blades ached the most, his wings itching to be released. But he was still too close to people; he didn't want them seeing. Sure, they would help him get out of here quicker, but it was too much of a risk. Plus, Dream didn't even know if he had the strength to lift them. And once he let them out, he knew for a fact he wouldn't be able to hide them again. So they had to stay hidden, invisible as they remained tucked in his body. Unfortunately, after having them contained for so long, he could feel each misplaced feather in need of preening that he couldn't do. The blonde lacked the energy to even lift his hand, let alone groom his wings.