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Exile was always fun for Dream. He had complete control over Tommy. He thought fondly of those memories.
“Tommy, put your items in the hole.” Dream said, smiling beneath his mask.
“Please—we did it yesterday!” Tommy whined, his eyes filling with tears. His thin shoulders shook and his lower lip trembled.
“We did, we did,” Dream agreed, “but I was with you yesterday and you found some diamonds. Either you give them to me, or everything you have goes bye-bye.”
Tommy was quiet and wrapped his arms around his disgustingly malnourished body.
Dream smiled, walking over to him with pep in his step. “Awe, you want a hug?” He asked, opening his arms. He grinned devilishly when Tommy ran into his arms and hugged him, crying. He wrapped his arms around Tommy. “We can stay like this if you give me those diamonds.”
“T- the diamonds are in my c- chest in the t- tent.” Tommy whispered.
“There’s the Tommy I know! Thank you.” Dream almost laughed at how easily Tommy’s resolve crumbled. The hug tightened just a bit as Dream combed his fingers through the boy’s greasy, matted hair. Seriously, why didn’t he ever craft a brush? Whatever.
“You’d never leave me, would you?” Dream cooed and Tommy nodded against his chest. “Good, good. And you know you deserve this, right?”
A nod.
“Okay, last question. You’ll never disobey, will you?”
Tommy shook his head.
“Are you agreeing?”
A nod. “Let’s go over the rules.” Dream pushed Tommy away from him.
“First, you will always listen to me.” Dream said, a smile on his face.
“Y- yeah, I will.” Tommy said, blinking tiredly.
Apparently malnutrition makes people tired. Who cares? It’s not like Tommy will get a good sleep if Dream can help it.
“You will only eat the food I give you.” A nod, “You, from now on, will only speak with my permission.”
Tommy froze, opening his mouth before shutting it.
“Good! Good job.” Dream praised him.
“These rules last rules are very simple, you can only drink the water I give you. You can only sleep when I allow you to. You must greet me whenever I come to Logstedshire. Finally, if you don’t follow these rules, the consequences will be dire.”
Tommy nodded, tears in his eyes.
Dream smiled, sitting in his prison cell. He leaned his head against the obsidian wall and closed his eyes as blood flowed into the grooves of the rough, uneven floor. The blood is not his own, not yet.
Tommy’s skull was shattered and his eyes were vacant. Shards of bone lay on the ground, in Tommy’s bloodied, tight skin and body. His blonde hair was red and thin, unkempt against the obsiand ground.
Dream was happy with himself. He’d deal with the consequences of his actions later, he’d revive Tommy later, maybe when he was less tired. Maybe when he could accept that it wasn’t only a point that was the reason he killed Tommy. Maybe when he could remember why he did horrible things.
“Goodnight,” he mumbled, shutting his eyes.