Dream SMP oneshots (98% Dream Centric) [Closed]

Forgotten|❔️

Gee I haven't posted for so long... Anyways have some shit in the meantime.

This was supposed to be angst but I needed some happiness in my life after the 1st of july. So I have no idea hov to label this.

In this story I won't focus on the sikness, it's just amnesia coming from psych♤logical and physical trauma, if you don't understand it feel free to ask me.

Tw: Humiliation, blood, swearing, and I have no idea what counts as TW.

Years have passed ever since Dream's inprisonment, and everyone forgot.

They did not care that they put Dream in the Vault.

The only ones visiting constantly were Sam and Quackity, the two enjoying the power over the helpless admin.

The rest of the server was fine with what they were doing.

Dream was laying on the hard obsidian floor, naked, covered in his own blood. There wasn't any untouched skin, old and new injuries littered around the grayish surface. Hair completely white ftom the stress, eyes dull, barely functioning anymore. Lips dry, and bloodied. Dream had no sense of time anymore, and his vocabulary was limited to the words monster, mistake, punishment, sir, warden, the basic questions and pronouncinations, and sorry. His memories were long gone due to the repeated injuries done to his head. He couldn't remember the sky, the grass, the sun, the moon...

He forgot how to write and read, how to run, walk... He forgot how to smile, how to be happy, free... He forgot what it was like being free.

And the worst part?

He forgot that he forgot.

He tought this was his life. He believed that things were always like this. He obeyed Sir, he listened to the Warden, and he was a good monster. But still a monster, and monsters needed punishment.

Altough sir said many things he couldn't understand. Sir talked about something called a server, and someone called Tommy, or Sapnap, or George. Dream didn't know what or who they were. The warden told him about events called wars. Something called killing, and manipulating... The warden called him Dream once.

What is Dream? This question was bugging him ever since then, so one day whe the warden came in the cell to check on the books, he did that sometimes, the prisoner built up the courage to ask.

"W-what is 'Dream'?" He asked, and his supervisor froze. He slowly turned his head towards his former friend, who backed into the toilet.

"Repeat that please." Sam turned his full attention to the blood soaked, naked man in the crimson water, facial expression morphing into sisbelied.

"I-I... S-Sor Sorry, C-cur-curio curious ab-about the D-Dre Drea Dream." He stuttered, body shaking violently, eyes trying to focus on the warden, and Sam noticed how Dream failed to do so.

"It's your name." Name? What's that? He questioned the warden, who looked suprised, altought Dream took that as a threatening motion, and instantly apologised. The warden sighed and sat down onto the hard floor. Fatherly insicts awakened in him, and he suddenly realized that there was something wrong, wery wrong with the admin.

Dream looked confused. The warden never done that before.

"A name is something you can adress someone. Everyone has at least one." Dream started understanding it, and nodded a litle.

"Can you remember mine?" Dream was confident. He did! So he pointed at his supervisor, and opened his mounth.

"Warden!" He said proudly, but then he saw Sam stopping dead in his movements, eyes open and focusing on Dream. It was hard reading his facial expressions, but the prisoner knew he messed something up, and he probably gets a punishment now. He started muttering sorry, trying to make himself as small and submissive looking as possible. He learned if sir or the warden have fun then the punishment will be lighter.