So wattpad deleted a bunch of comments, some being requests. Sorry if yours got deleted in the error.
TW: mentions of exile, mentions of torture, swearing, Unsympathetic!Tommy, manipulation, essentially telling a little they don't deserve to regress.
Little!Dream (mentioned past CG!Tommy)
Dream yawned softly as he stumbled down the stairs of the small cabin he called home.
The smell of pancakes immediately hit him and caused him to giggle happily. He loved Tommy's pancakes!
He shuffled into the kitchen, seeing the other blond plating pancakes and adding toppings, a sippy cup of juice already sitting at the counter.
Tommy looked over, smiling as he set the plates and silverware at the table. "Hey, Daydream. Sleep well?"
. . . . . . . .
Dream sighed as he walked towards the campsite, head fogged by a certain fuzziness.
He hadn't regressed in weeks. He knew he should've, but he was busy and the only one that knew hated him at the moment.
Speaking of the blond, he was sitting in his tent, staring at Dream as he approached. "What do you want?" he spat, voice sounding like venom.
Dream bit his tongue, face turning to a pained expression behind the smiley mask he wore.
"I just came to give you food." he said with a sigh. He didn't feel like blowing Tommy's stuff up that day, he could already feel a headache forming and it didn't need help.
Tommy forced an idle laugh. "Not going to blow up my stuff, pissbaby?" It's as if he knew Dream was a nudge away from slipping.
"I have a headache, and I'm not going to make myself suffer for some bratty teen." Dream retorted, carelessly dropping the small bundle of food at Tommy's feet.
Tommy scoffed. "What happened to 'no lying', Dreamy?" his voice was taunting, trying to make fun of Dream.
Dream couldn't stop it, that was the push he needed to regress..
His legs gave out on him and he scrambled to his knees. He took off his mask, having the stuffy plastic.
Tommy stared at him for a few seconds. Great, he had failed his manipulator to slip, and now had to take care of him.
Unless...
"Why the fuck are you small? Trying to pull it s an act to make you seem like you aren't the asshole?"
Dream felt his heart shatter at those words, eyes immediately becoming teary as he stared at Tommy. Was this just a nightmare? Was this real? "P-Papa..?"
Tommy glared at him. "Fucking leave, Dream. You're not pulling any sympathy by regressing."
It felt nice to be on the opposite side of the manipulation for once.
. . . . . . . . .
No one had visited Dream in months. Why would they?
When someone finally did visit it was Tommy. It was his responsiblility to 'check up' on 'his little'.
He had a small bag with him, keeping it clutched close as he followed the bridge, shuffling across it in time with its movements.
"Hey Dreamy~" He said with a smile, watching as the masked man forced his head up to look at him.
The two were alone now, Sam had gone somewhere, probably to deal with something.
Dream just kind of stared at Tommy. "What do you want?" he asked plainly, voice flat. He hadn't regressed since being in jail, he instead coped by sleeping, it was much better anyways.
Tommy frowned. "Awe come on, Dreamy~! Can't papa check up on his favourite little boy?" he cooed, sitting across from Dream and setting the bag down.
Dream sighed. "I don't regress anymore, Tommy. No point to it anyways, I can just sleep."
Tommy frowned. "But Dreamy! I even brought you stuff for when you're tiny, can't you regress for me~?" he cooed, his smile seemingly a lot darker.
Dream frowned lightly, but nodded gently. "Fine.." he muttered.
Tommy smiled, dumping the bag out. There was a plush and a note.
A note? Why was there a note?
Tommy stood up, smiling lightly at Dream and patting his head. "I'm ready to go Sam!" he called out.
Dream took the two items and just shoved them under his pillow before climbing into bed and curling up.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Dream woke up an hour or so later and looked again at the items.
Seeing the plush made him feel fuzzy, and the warmth of the lava felt nice. Like a hug..
He let himself regress finally after months, hugging the plush close as he opened up the note and read it.
. . . . . . .
He wanted to sob after he finished reading it.
He had really screwed up, hadn't he?