MCYT Oneshots And Other Random Stuff

Imprisoned

Never tried writing Dream angst before, but I'll give it a shot. Here we go!

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A searing blast of pain clouded Dream's vision, then darkness.

Instantly he re-formed in his prison cell. Jump in lava; checked off the list of things to do today.

He didn't jump into the lava to escape; this was his prison. He knew how it worked, and, more, importantly, how impossible it was to leave. No, he jumped into lava simply for something to do.

Prison was horrible. Truly, simply horrible.

Dream hated it. More than that, he hated the remorse that seeped into his mind. The regret for all the things he'd done. He wasn't emotionless— of course he wasn't.

But it was far, far too late for guilt.

I wonder what Drista would say.

He knew what she would say. It was why every letter he sent her was a lie, a false tale claiming that he was okay.

Drista would hate what he'd become just as much as he did.

Instinctively Dream's hand went to his side as it always did when he felt agitated, but there was no sword to unsheath anymore. Nor did he have his axe strapped across his back anymore. Or the thirteen different daggers in hidden pockets all over his outfit.

For once, Dream was helpless, and he hated it more than he hated prison, more than he hated himself.

Did he even really hate himself? Did he even miss anyone?

I have no attachment to anyone or anything anymore.

He said it to himself so often, he no longer knew if it was truth or a lie.

Dream started mentally listing the people he cared about— thought he cared about, or missed caring about, or— he didn't know.

Drista.

Except he lied to her, time and time again. He never told her what he was or who he'd slowly become. He didn't let her live on his server, because she'd see just how messed up he was.

Would Drista still love him, if she knew the real him?

Sapnap.

Sapnap had sided against him. Sapnap had glared at him with hateful eyes as he stepped through the portal into the underground stronghold. Sapnap had watched as Dream died twice, a lingering hint of satisfaction in his eyes.

Was it even possible to repair a friendship as broken as theirs?

George.

No, that thought was laughable. Dream had allowed himself to care about George, to try and protect him, and look how that ended up. George had practically spat on their friendship, and Dream didn't try to stop him.

Their friendship wasn't broken. It was severed, a bridge burned beyond repair.

Don't think about them.

Don't care about them.

You are going to get out of here, and you will get revenge on TommyInnit.

This is your server. Everything here belongs to you.

Everyone here belongs to you.

Dream exhaled slowly.

This place was breaking him.

No— breaking him more.

He was not only a prisoner in this cell, but a prisoner in his own mind.

He had to control it.

He had to control everyone, because that was the only way he could ever be happy again.

I have no attachment to anyone or anything anymore.

I have no attachment to anyone or anything anymore.

I have no attachment to anyone or anything anymore.

I have no attachment to anyone or anything anymore.

My name is Dream WasTaken, and I have no attachment to anyone or anything anymore.

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I know prison is supposedly like "oh Dream can think about what he's done and be sorry" but come on. The entire prison is built to be psychologically destabilizing. He's just getting more and more psychopathic.