Bottom Dream Oneshots 2.0

No ship - Requested - Remembered too late

No ship <3<3
Requested by: Mikotka00
TW:
- Self Harm
- Blood
- Unintentional Cannibalism (Briefly mentioned once)
- Mentions of torture
- Death
- Blood
- Mentions of throwing up
- It's in the prison
- If I missed anything, please say so!

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He looked up at the god, ignoring the stinging in his eyes. He looked at the god with three eyes, knowing how uninterested it was. "Exdee, please allow me to make a request.." Dream knew better than to ask for something before asking the god to allow him to ask. Exdee looked down at him, it's arms crossed. "Go on," The god hummed, waiting for the human- at least part human- to speak.

"...I want you to make everyone forget I ever existed, please.." Dream lowered his head, closing his eyes. He half expected to be killed on the spot for the request, though he knew it probably wouldn't happen. "Hmm.. It would be interesting. Fine. However, you are never to request anything of me again," Dream looked up, smiling a bit and nodding.

"Of course, Exdee. Thank you," He had a feeling the god would say something about it being fun or interesting. It was the god of games, curiosity, and the rest was really not needed to be known. "Goodbye, Dream," Exdee left. Dream smiled- finally.. not only would he be able to avoid being tortured for an entire year, he could somewhat stop worrying about the pain he caused.

The dirty blonde crawled to one of the corners of the cell, closing his eyes while slowly drifting off to sleep. Dream woke up sometime later, he definitely slept longer than normal. Usually he'd be woken up by Sam or Quackity. He slowly stood up, going to the middle of the cell to pick up a few potatoes.

All he had to worry about would be running out of them.. he knew the feeding system was filled up of potatoes and when there weren't as many, he'd be given fewer as a way to keep the food coming. He got two potatoes a day, so if he were running out it'd automatically switch to one a day. Dream ate one potato and put the other in the chest before just going back to sleeping.

He was oddly exhausted all the time- he blamed it on the mix of some nights where he didn't sleep and others where he slept the whole day. On the sleepless nights, he took to writing whatever he could think of. Apologies to people, cries for help, what he was feeling, who or what he missed, what he had been doing that day, so on and so forth.

Some nights he woke up due to nightmares, he always wrote about it when he woke up. Dream had once wrote about missing Quackity's visits because he'd been so alone, he tore that page out and threw it away. There were occasional times where Dream would draw what he could remember about others and himself.

Dream gave up on trying to draw himself, he couldn't remember what he looked like and the water was too gross now to be able to actually see his reflection. He drew Exdee once, as well as one of the other gods he had met. It had been a year since Dream got Exdee to remove everyone's memories of him. Two years since he had been locked up.

He didn't remember what people looked like anymore. He hadn't seen or heard anyone other than himself. Dream couldn't remember when he started only eating once a week, or when he started throwing up after every meal. It was getting to him- both only eating raw potatoes and not eating much.

Dream found himself biting his arm every now and again when he spaced out or went to sleep. Sometimes he saw a small bit missing from the arm and tried to ignore the metallic taste in his mouth. He had to use his prison uniform so many times to keep himself from bleeding out, he was starting to run out. About four months into the second year, he decided to start gagging himself before going to bed, to avoid hurting himself like that again.

It hurt when he woke up but it was better. Dream drew small doodles around the pages of writing. He drew what he remembered of his cat, Patches. He wrote about her too, how much he missed her. Dream wrote about how he hoped she was being taken care of. He wrote about her favorite treats, where she liked to be pet, her favorite room in his house, so on and so forth.

Dream missed Patches. He wrote about Drista as well. Dream missed them both so much. He put the book away and slept again- or he tried to. He eventually gave up and got the book back out, writing mindlessly about whatever was on his mind. At some point he got upset at something, or it looked like that at least.

The previously blank page was covered in seemingly random words that were written messily. The page had ripped a bit because of the pressure he put behind the pencil. Dream wrote about Quackity and Sam again, he left the page in that time. Dream knew nobody would read the books, and even if they did, it would all seem fake, probably. The dirty blonde put the book away and curled up on the floor, just sitting there until he finally fell asleep.

Or maybe he knocked himself out while hitting his head.. he didn't remember either way. Dream woke up again and forced himself to eat. Straight after swallowing the bits of the potatoes, he sat down and focused on trying to not throw up. Eventually he gave up and made his way to the lava, letting all the food he ate come back up. He went back to his corner and slept again.

He woke up a couple days later, only to try and fall back asleep again. He was tired, he didn't want to be here, he didn't want any of this- he couldn't take being in the prison anymore. Two years and a half, that's how long it had been. He started tearing his nails off at some point, to convince himself he was still alive. It had officially been three years now.

Three years since the prison was built, three years since Dream had been locked up.


Sam stared at the prison for a moment longer before looking to the group that came with him. They believed the prison hadn't been touched since they found out it existed. Nobody went in or out of the prison so there was no way it was in use. "Does everyone understand what we're doing?" Sam questioned. The group nodded.

"Good. Don't leave the group, there might be traps or maybe some mobs," The creeper hybrid couldn't risk anybody getting hurt- they had no idea if there was an infestation in the prison or if it was a structure made by specific mobs that they hadn't heard of yet.

"If you hear or see something, say it. Don't try to be funny by pretending, it's a dangerous exploration and I'm not willing to risk losing any of you," Sam explained the basic rules he had for the group. Sam took a deep breath before turning around and walking into the prison. They went through a lot of halls and rooms, Sam wrote down a lot about the redstone and how it still worked.

He found an automatic feeder full of potatoes in what seemed to be an office. There were camera screens as well but they were all broken. "Maybe there's a pig farm over there so it's easier food?" George hummed, it would be a good conclusion if it weren't for the pure amount of safety measures there were on everything around the possible farm.

Sapnap stared into the lava, listening somewhat as Sam explained how he was going to try and work out how to remove the lava. He ended up finding a switch that drained it. "There's netherite blocks over there, it looks like a cell," Sapnap looked over to the creeper hybrid while talking. "Start building across," Sam instructed, taking in all the redstone in that area.

The ravenette listened and started bridging over, quickly reaching the cell. "There's something in here, Sam!" He yelled, backing away. "What is it?" Sam yelled from the control room. "I don't know! Get rid of the netherite blocks and we can see!" Sam huffed and walked over, holding his pickaxe. The creeper hybrid quickly mined the netherite blocks and picked them up.

He slowly crept inside of the cell, staring at the thing Sapnap pointed out before. It moved and Sam quickly pulled out his axe. The thing pushed back against the wall, not moving much. "What the fuck is that?" Sam kept his eyes on the creature- there was no way to tell what it was, well, maybe except- "It's hands look kind of human but.." George muttered.

The three of them all got a headache at the same time, none of them had any idea why. Maybe it was the smell? Maybe the heat? It really was hard to tell.

Dream kept his head down as the footsteps came into the room, pushing himself back. He couldn't stand or even sit up, everything hurt and he felt weak. So, so weak. He could barely move his arms- he got sick one night a month or so ago and he didn't have enough strength to eat, and then it continued and he hadn't eaten since.

There was also all the blood loss, dehydration and affects of still being sick. "What the fuck is that?" One of them spoke, he couldn't recognize them. "It's hands look kind of human but.." ...Was he even human? He didn't feel like it anymore. He hadn't had a single interaction with anything living for two years, so maybe he wasn't.

He couldn't remember anything from the day before. "It looks like it's dying, should we help it?" Sam looked at Sapnap, thinking for a moment before nodding. Dream slowly looked up at them, he wanted them to leave and let him die. Sam held his head as it was suddenly flooded by just looking at the creature- it was human. He was human. He was..

"Dream?!" The dirty blonde let his head fall to the ground, fuck. They weren't supposed to remember. They were meant to see him as a threat and kill him. "That's Dream? Holy shit, we need to get him out," Dream didn't react when Sam picked him up slowly, blood dripping the the floor- he stayed on his side or back when he could for a reason.

They started moving to get out, not looking into any wounds without Phil there. That was a terrible idea, Dream knew some of the larger cuts had been reopened while he was in the cell. They managed to get out of the prison relatively quickly, looking down at the dirty blonde. He wasn't breathing. Sam rushed to Phil, only to be told seconds later he was already gone.

 The next week was dedicated to building him a grave on a hill that looked over the entire smp. Everyone gathered whatever they could of Dream's belongings, and Bad worked on recreating his mask. By that Friday, the grave was complete and surrounded by all of Dream's items.

Sam had been gathering the books from the prison while they made his grave, he had dropped one and it opened to a specific page with a specific set of words that made him break down.

'I miss Sammy.'

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Not the best but eh, I hope you guys enjoyed it though! Sorry if I upload less, school has started back up again for me.
Bye bye!