Tommyinnit Exile AU ||5 stages of Belonging

Depression

A/N: hallo lovely people! The amount of support I've gotten is amazing! If you're here from tiktok or just from browsing on Wattpad thank you so much! :] You have no idea how happy this makes me so if you wouldn't mind dropping a vote that would be great! This story is coming to a close but due to the attention this has got I'm considering writing another book! If you have any ideas/themes you'd like to see just comment here or on tiktok (@burd.ished) Anyway nearly 2000 words again so I hope it was worth the wait! <3 Take care of yourselves you beautiful people
TW: MANIPULATION/CUSSING/GRAPHIC DETAIL/SUICIDAL THOUGHTS/PANIC ATTACKS/MATURE THEMES/MALNOURISHMENT/SELF HARM
Art Credit: @Late-August on Youtube
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"REVOKE the citizenship of Wilbur Soot and Tommy Innit!" Images flashed through Tommy's restless mind- "Am I the villain, in this story?" A flash from nights spent with his brother, exiled. "They're lying to you! Tubbo, he's lying to you man!" "TYRANTS" Fleeting images shook Tommy's body as he woke from the nightmares inside his head. Only one thought echoed in his mind on that dark lonely night;

"Then let's be the bad guys."

Tommy couldn't go back to sleep, not that he wanted to anyway; the nightmares he had been experiencing were even worse than reality. They varied greatly, sometimes he would find himself in L'manburg, sometimes Pogtopia, but the worst ones were when he was in a tiny blacked out room. The room was suffocating, there was no light, just Tommy and the voices, the voices that in his dreams became much more animalistic. They were like shadows, slick, inky and dripping wet; the voices surrounded the boy, closing in on him slowly, whispering their insults at first, but soon they were screeching at him. The slimy creatures acted like walls, the more panicked Tommy became, the closer they got until the child was left screaming in a tiny crawl space, hands over ears and rocking back and forth in madness. The room was then exposed to a blinding light, blazing insanity struck the boy's sleeping state before he was tugged back into the harsh reality of his exile.

Tommy pushed himself out of his tent, exposing himself to the somber midnight air, a shiver went down his spine as he pulled Wilbur's old trench coat closer around him. He took a deep breath, fingers brushing past the burn on his neck, it hurt like hell but Tommy rejoiced at the sensation, he felt alive. The boy traced his footprints to the sandy beach, lowering himself onto a log. Tommy sighed as he took it all in, he wasn't coming out of exile for a long time, if ever, he was trapped. That was one thing he hated, being trapped, maybe that was why he was so rebellious, why he jumped on every opportunity to piss people off, he needed that feeling of being alive, of being free. Tommy searched his hands, looking for an answer, looking for anything. Was it really his fault he messed up so much? He'd always told himself it wasn't, he'd told himself it was Dream's fault but was it really? One burning question rung through his head as he reviewed his life;

If all you've known is war, how do you know peace is any better?

It hurt the youth because it was true, Tommy was so exposed to war and bloodshed, he was more terrified of what he would do if it all ended than if it would even end at all. In war there were clear aims, simple actions that would define whether you won or lost, but what did you have to live for if not to fight for a better future? Wilbur had made it seem so wonderful; if we won we'd get to go back to the old days, to the summer evenings spent with Tubbo, the comfort of Phil's arms, the warmth of Techno's few praises and the beautiful songs of Wilbur's endless fantasies. Now though, now everything was different, the mug had been dropped and was spilling out onto the floor to be left a cold, unpleasant mess, the family had fallen apart. A single tear slipped silently down Tommy's sickly cheek, he missed them all so much, he just wanted a hug, a long, warm, loving hug.