Tommyinnit Exile AU ||5 stages of Belonging

Anger

A/N: hey it's burd again :] this is actually reaching a few people now which is really cool! Please vote and comment because it really helps more people read this, also it makes me very happy. Anyway this chapter is nearly 2000 words so pog? I really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you like it too <3 Also remember to drink water and look after yourselves! These are tough times
TW: SEVERE ABUSE/CUSSING/GRAPHIC SCENES/DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF INJURY/MATURE THEMES/SUICIDAL THOUGHTS/PANIC ATTACKS
Art Credit: @careously on Twitter
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"No one cares Dream! No one gives a fuck about me!"
"That's not true, I care" Tommy sighed as he looked into Dream's painted eyes, they were so empty there was no real emotion, nothing to read. They were so calm and yet all Tommy wanted to do was rip that smug expression off his carved face.
"No one but you and your pity."

It had been a week and a bit since Tommy's exile- no one had visited. Somehow it became a little more bearable with Dream there. They weren't friends, but they weren't enemies either. Sometimes they had fun, a few laughs here and there, a few outbursts of anger from both sides, but it was alright. It wasn't as lonely as it could have been, it wasn't as terrifying.

A steady pattern came into place, Tommy would go a day just fine, have a few laughs, cry a lot once Dream had left and then wait upon him the next morning. The mornings were the worst, they reminded him of the sun's rise and fall back on his bench with Tubbo, they reminded him that no matter the day, he'd still wake up in that hell hole. He'd still be in exile. So when Sapnap came to visit one bleak Winter morning, the youth couldn't help but feel pissed.

"Eyyyy ExiledInnit!" Sapnap taunted the child relentlessly
"Piss off Sapnap." Tommy wasn't in the mood that morning, he'd barely slept that night and his eyes were struggling to stay open.
"How's it feel to be completely forgotten?" The older man teased but the jive caught Tommy's attention.
"What- What do you mean forgotten?" He glared into Sapnap's murky brown eyes, Dream's daunting silhouette catching the corner of his eye.
"He means they've moved on Tommy, activity in L'manburg is completely ordinary, it's as if nothing happened, as if you never even existed." Dream spat, "I guess they really don't care". Now that hurt more than Tommy would like to admit but he wasn't going to look a fool in front of Sapnap of all people. Instead he returned the insult;
"Maybe you should both go back to princess Georgie! Seems more to your taste"
"Tommy." Dream warned the child
"What?! What do you care! What are you gonna do about it! Go fuck yourself! No. Even better, go fuck you're pretty princess!" Dream was starting to get annoyed, Tommy could tell, and god was he scared but he wasn't backing out now, not in front of these cocks.
"Tommy, he's your King, speak carefully." The hooded man threatened him. Tommy gulped, he was in deep shit, he was already regretting what he said but there was no way out now.
"My King? MY KING?! I don't have a King Dream, I listen to no man! You can tell your precious George that having people worship him because he 'cares' about them is just embarrassing!" Tommy pushed himself fully out of his tent, a small blade in hand. Sapnap stepped back, spitting at the sorrowful sight.
"Well at least people pretend to care about us! I don't see anyone here for you!" That was when reality hit the boy, he gripped the edge of the tent with his left hand, anger burning through him, glaring at Sapnap like a madman. He hated this, the deafening silence of everything around him but his own haunted thoughts, his eyes flickered in the bitter morning sun, hands steadied as one thought screamed through his head.

Kill Him.

The instinct came in a flash- the boy slipped into a defensive position, one foot behind, the other level with his arm, before sliding to the side of Sapnap and slitting his arm in an instant. The vermillion waterfall was stunning, a splatter of the thick liquid tainted Tommy's skin, entrancing him. It was one of the most beautiful colours he had ever seen, not a violent red, but a passionate crimson swirl of emotion; it calmed him, reminding him to be content in his confusion, to accept it all.