Tommy-Centric Stories and Writitings

PhanTommy || Dead Tommyinnit AU

Warnings : Major Character Death, Suicide, Manipulation, Intrusive Thoughts

Description:
Tommy has been feeling less than ideal lately. When a late night walk turns into a Nether trip, Tommy isn't sure he'll return

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It's been five days since Tommy last saw his friends, his house, his family. He felt so exhausted of the lonesome life he was forced to live. There were dark bags under his eyes and a lack of fire under the blue hues. Tommy was tired of being exiled.

In the dark of the night, he decided he needed to walk. He needed to clear his head and let his frustrations out. Tommy was so sick of this place, this tent, and this stupid mound of dirt he lived on.

Tommy exited the small white tent, "tnrent" read the sign above it. He had a slight chuckle at it before walking off and into the woods across from it. He also passed the huge, decorated tree. There were lights strung on it and a small star on top. Wil- Ghostbur had made it for him, but Tommy felt nothing but sadness when looking at it.

Blue
Maybe he needed some Blue.
Where's Ghostbur with the Blue?

The blond boy walked down the dirt path, hands in his pockets and eyes dead of emotion. He was so tired. He needed to get away from it, away from it all.

Tommy walked through the Nether portal, ignoring the slight buzzing and numbing of portal transport. He stepped out through the other side and was met with the familiar warmth of the Nether. It felt right to be there, alive to be within the unnaturally warm air. It filled his chest with it.

He walked down the cobble and obsidian pathway with eyes down. Tommy felt so frustrated by the dullness of his life, and the anger flashed in his chest once again at the sight of the Nether portal. That damned Nether portal to L'Manberg; his real home.

He walked up to it and looked into the swirling purple particles. He wanted to go home, he wanted to see his friends again.

Tommy let out a stifled laugh, eyes burning with hot tears. Tears of anger, tears of sadness, tears of frustration. He wouldn't let it out. He couldn't let it out. Not here, and not ever.

So he didn't understand why his cheeks felt so wet and his eyes so dry.

These weren't tears. No, they weren't. He wasn't crying, his eyes were just dry. That's all... right?

Why did his chest hurt so much?

Tommy looked down at the wasteland of lava, the hot surface popping with bubbles. He's swam in it before, but that time with a potion. Maybe this time he wouldn't use a potion.

It must be warm. It must not hurt much either, he thinks.

He leans on the edge of the black stone path, feet dangerously on the edge. Dream wasn't here to stop him this time, he could do it. Tommy could end this suffering.

That doesn't sound like him, Tommy thinks. But who is he anymore other than a shell.

Tommy takes his shoes off and leaves them to his side. He slides the compass from his neck and holds it in his hands delicately. 'Your Tubbo' it reads. It was so important to him, he couldn't let it burn with him.

He takes the compass and rubs it with his thumb once more before placing a small kiss on the surface and wrapping it softly on top of his shoes.

His eyes flick from the pile he would leave to the valley underneath him. One jump and he would be gone. No one would really miss him, would they? No one came to his party and no one ever bothered visiting him. Sure, Dream did, but Tommy wasn't that blind; he knew the masked man was just using him.