Being imprisoned is.. boring to say the least.

Sitting in a cell for hundreds of years, staring at the same walls (and the same missing one, replaced by flowing lava), was boring. Having little to no change tends to grow mundane.

This was not how he thought he'd be spending his immortal life.

The only change seemed to be the coming and going of guards. Long gone was the first Warden of his cell, having been a short life species the Wardens life wasn't meant to go on as long as his does. He admittedly misses the strong scent of gunpowder and ash that seemed to follow the centaur. These new guards weren't the same, all boring and foreign, nothing like the first guard. They lack the warm feeling of familiarity he seemed to have taken for advantage in past.

He watches the guards come and go, all repeating the same cycle. Get assigned to his cell, approach nervously, be scared of him, and eventually grow confident. A short period of cockiness before they become dull, growing tired of the same mundane routine. Then they quit (or die, he doesn't know), and the cycle starts again. Years ago he would have tried to get and know the new guard, but that was years ago. He no longer finds it worthy of his time. After all, all these guards were meant to die, sooner or later.

He overheard one of the new wardens mention something about him. Apparently no one knows exactly what he's in for. Record keeping has improved within the last 500 or so years, going from paper to tablet, physical file to digital. Yet none of these short life species thought to transfer the old documents over before getting rid of them.

A shame, truly.

It seems the only thing they know about his sentence, is how long it is. His sentence is forever. He's cursed to stare at these purple and black walls until the end of time, or until the gods decide to take pity on his tormented soul and strike him dead.

He hears that theres a new guard coming today, the old guard having either retired or died recently (not that he cares). He rolls his eyes at the news, unexcited for the cycle to repeat. It's bound to repeat.

Until it doesn't.

He doesn't know why he's staring out his cell, he doesn't know what brought him to devote his attention to the bubbling lava. He shouldn't expect anything different, yet he does. A string in his gut tugs him towards the window, forcing him to stare at the glowing enflamed ooze. And he stares, and stares, until it begins to fall. The lava parts, much to his expectations. He thinks the new guard may have been coming to introduce themself, but that doesn't seem to be the case.

The first thing he notices is the hair, the familiar golden blonde hair. Next is the pristine white wings that rest on the newcomers back. Something in his gut twists, and his mind screams in both joy and confusion. This is a break in his routine. This familiar is not like the mundane familiar, it's something else. Something greater. (Something he once took advantage of, something that had long become impossible to experience). A figure from his past (a figure meant to be long dead. a figure who knows the reasoning for his sentencing) comes to haunt him. The figure steps off the moving path, stepping in front of his cell door. A lever is flipped, and suddenly the gap opens up, retracting into the floor.

He immediately jolts from his seat on the floor, moving himself to stand in the middle of the room, facing someone he thought he'd never see again.

"Missed me?" The figure asks, humor laced within his tone. Of course, lead it to someone like him to make the first words they share in a thousand years, a joke.

"You're alive.." he states matter-of-factly.

"That I am." The figure hums as he makes his way to the worn down bed in the corner of the room. He sits himself down on the mattress, like he's returning to his room after a long day. "oof-" he says, as he's met with the world's most uncomfortable seating spot. Theres a reason he's been sitting on the floor for the past 300 years. "These feel like they've been the same since you got here." He mutters as he stands up again, choosing to sit on the also worn down chest. He bites his tongue, resisting the urge to tell him that they haven't been changed. That no one has stepped in this room since the warden died. Well, no one until now.

"You should be dead." He states again, much to the entertainment of his.. guest.

"After a thousand years, I thought you'd get over the death wish you put upon me." He responds lightheartedly, "I thought you'd have changed by now, Dream." He lets out a hearty laugh, as if unfazed by the words that left his mouth. As if speaking about his death should roll off his tongue as easily as it does.

"I did, but Tommy- you should be dead." He responds humorlessly, not reflecting the same lightheartedness.

Tommy only shrugs in return, the white wings on his back fluttering slightly at the movement. They seemed to have healed well, growing quite large since the last time the two interacted. His hair also seems to have grown, its length almost reaches the ground (despite being tied up)."That I should be," he sighs, a stark contrast to his previous demeanor, "yet i'm not." He walks over to the front of the cell, his hand reaching out to touch the lava that flows against the sides. "I've somehow outlived my own father, my brothers, my sisters, my son, my nephews, my grandchildren, and the next 20 something generations after." He retracts the hand that was previously held under lava, it returns charred and black. This appearance only stays for a few seconds, before the skin returns to its original pale state. "I've outlived both the short-life species and long-life species of my bloodline. Something I should have absolutely not been able to do. Yet I have." He turns to face the other, a hint of sorrow hidden behind his seemingly bright eyes.

"I've come to the conclusion that, much like you, I simply cannot die." His voice cracks slightly, it's obvious that if given the chance, he wouldn't have chosen this fate for himself. Dream reaches out a hand to him, before deciding to retract it, unsure if the other is comfortable with comfort coming from him out of all people. "Fuck- sorry-" He sighs, wiping away the few tears that leaked from his eyes. "I shouldn't be crying about this, I spent the first 300 years I had crying over this." He looks up to meet the other's eyes, the sorrow seems to flow away as quick as it came, burying itself somewhere far away from the front of his mind.

"So, about you.. I can't imagine sitting here for a thousand years was all that entertaining." The topic shifts, and Dream is happy to let it.

He groans, his back slumping against the wall as he speaks, "Ugh don't remind me. You're the most entertaining thing to have happened to me in the past what- 800 years?"

"Oh? Am I?" He chuckles, a hand bringing itself to his face. "So what happened on year 200?"

He rolls his eyes, ignoring the first remark and responding to the second, "Some Nekohito kit became a guard, I think he used to study under the second Warden. The kit apparently was a traitor and tried breaking the other inmates out."

"And they left you?"

"Nah. Not intentionally at least. Kit tried to get me out but couldn't figure out the levers. Not that I would've followed them out anyways." He shrugs from his space on the ground. He hopes the kit escaped the other guards, they definitely deserved their freedom. Too damn cunning to be locked up in a cell.

Tommy laughs at the story, a soft smile finding its way on his face. "I see, a shame I can't provide entertainment of that level." He remarks, making his way over to the other before sitting beside him.

The two sit in silence for a bit. Dream didn't find it awkward, not at all, in fact he found solace in the silence, it bringing him a sense of old comfort he seemed to have missed. No one breaks the quiet, not for a while at least. Both stay content with sitting down and listening to the lava bubbles fizz and pop from the outside of the walls.

"Hey did I tell you why I'm here yet?" Tommy asks, opening his previously closed eyes to look over at the other. Dream shakes his head, as if to say 'no, and now I'm worried about it'. He saw the glint in the golden-blondes eye. He was planning something chaotic. "Really? I didn't? Man.." He says, almost sarcastically. He's avoiding explaining himself, using the anticipation to taunt Dream, who in return glares at him from the broken half of his mask.

"See, I figured out how to end your sentence."

He pauses, and stares. What?

Tommy only grins in return, the glint of chaos in his eye only growing brighter. If he didn't already know the boy, he would've assumed he was a follower of the chaos god Hirobrine, and not a devote of Prime. "Yeah! Since i'm like- the only living person who knows why you're here. I told them that your crimes were something shitty and like- not permanent imprisonment worthy? Dunno how it worked. I guess it's just cuz they respect their elders enough to not question it- or care. Man that makes me sound old-"

He lets the golden-blonde ramble, tuning out his rant about his age. Instead he takes the time to process the new information. He was getting out of here? Would he be able to see the sun, the stars?

"Hey! Hellooooo earth to Dream~ You in thereee? Hellooooo" His thoughts are interrupted by an obnoxious voice. Part of him wishes the blonde never visited, and that he died alongside the others.

"There we go! Thought you almost died on me there!" He chirps, seeing the other's eyes refocusing on him (and ignoring the way they glared daggers). "Now- let's not take too much time getting ready to leave. I'd rather them not find out about my little fib. Oh gods I'm starting to sound like Wilbur-"

Dream could only roll his eyes as he got up from the ground. Bits of obsidian dust clung to the orange uniform, much to the disgust of Tommy. "I hope you know we're washing that- I know damn well you've been stinking in it for the past thousand years and I do not want to be caught in public with you smelling like rotting corpse dipped in sewage."

"Must you be so specific.. and harsh about it?" He groans, glaring at the other.

"Yep! Gotta get my message across." Tommy chirps, clasping his hands together and bringing it to his face while displaying an overly smug (yet bright) smile .

"Whatever.. let's go." he grumbles, walking ahead of the other and towards the doorway.

"You're not gonna pack?" Tommy questions, glancing between the run down chest and the now freed inmate.

"Nah, got all my books in my inventory. Damn chest stopped holding things properly by year 350." He sighs, stepping onto the platform.

"Ah. Makes sense."

"So about the uniform.." he mumbles, looking down at the dingy, faded orange in disgust.

"Hm? Whats up?" Tommy looks up from the platform, which began to move towards the other side.

"Mind if I just burn it?"

He could only laugh in response, a large smile finding itself way onto his face. "Of course! I wouldn't want to keep it either."

"Nice." He smirks slightly, looking over at the smiling moron with warmth in his chest.

He found a feeling he hasn't felt in years creep its way into his heart, Hope. Maybe this time around it'll be different. Perhaps he could start over, and the two can become friends again. Maybe he can find a way to be happy, without his previous bloodlust. He smiles softly, glancing forward as the platform continued to move.

And within the span of an hour, his once dull and grey world became a lot less mundane.

—————

Ima be fr. I got this idea while playing hsr.

Anyways! Lets go over some AU explanations

Avians are long life species, hence the generations over a thousand years being a lot less than there should be.
The sisters he speaks of is that pink sheep Phil got, Wilburs egg who i've made to be his egg (idk if thats canon in QSMP). Or you can assume it to be Phil's egg from the QSMP. Orrr even both! Who doesn't love more dead sisters!!

So uh 3 dead sisters. Yay!

The nephews are Fundy and his entire bloodline after him (zorians are a short life species considering their fast aging), Micheal and his bloodline (piglins are another long life species), Shroud as the son, and his bloodline duh (arachnes are another short life species, cuz spiders aren't long living).

The reasoning behind both Dream and Tommy's immortality is the fact that they are both children of gods. Dreams the brother of the god of void, XD, the god of nether, Nightmare, and the god of aether, Drista. (He's the god of overworlds, but got stripped of his power and his memories wiped a long time ago. skill issue tbh)

Before anyone asks. MD is his cousin. He's uh. Hm... God of celebration. Who decided to retire on his own terms and allow himself to be "killed" (aka hes just chilling in lady deaths domain for the funzies)

Tommy's the son of Kristin, god of death (duh). "But Ashe why aren't Wilbur and Techno gods?" They're adopted. /j but also not /j. Techno and Wilbur are long life species, piglins. Aka not Philzas bio children. Kristin gave him these kids after finding them on the brink of death, and she decided they shouldn't have to die young. Tommy, is the only biological child of Kristins, so he inherited her god-ness. If ur curious, he's the god of living and resilience. A shame really.

"But Ashe what about his canon deaths?!" He died the first two times before the immortality kicked in. He has one life but now cannot die. The revival arc? It didn't happen. Shut, shut, didn't happen. Just him getting stuck in jail and everyone thinking hes dead when hes not. Sam just refused to answer questions abt Tommy n people assumed the worst. Shutup, ik thats a bad way to patch the plot hole. Shush.

Any questions? Ask on this part here <—
I'll answer em

I surprisingly finished this the same day I started on it. Go me!

Uh- i'm keeping u here for no reason. Heres the ending shit I put at the end

———

2550 words (like 400 r just the au explanation)

finished and published at 5:30 est aug 16 friday

Dont forget to drink water! dehydration sucks
love yall! thanks for still reading this old ass oneshot book

proofread? partially

edit- 19:00, grammar