mcyt oneshots

c!tommy and c!tubbo/lightning and thunder

hello hello! i am back and at it again lol, this wasn't a request, but i wanted to write about it. in this story, tubbo was adopted by phil and phil isn't a shit dad lol. i only have an anxiety disorder, so i did do my research on this topic. i tried my best to portray the most common effects that is usually shown with flashbacks and ptsd. this story deals with ptsd and other mental health issues. please read on with caution.

cw: ptsd, derealization, repetition, lightning and thunder storms, flashbacks, eventual fluff and comfort

phil notified all four of his sons that a storm was coming, not knowing of both tubbo and tommy's flashbacks from the sounds.

"boys, there's a storm comin'! thought i would let you know!" phil yelled throughout the house, startling all four of his sons.

"uh, tommy? are you alright? you don't look so good, big man." tubbo said, realizing tommy was paler than usual.

"yeah, don't worry about me, tubs. i'm fine." tommy said with a forced smile, not fooling tubbo.

"it's the storm, isn't it?" tubbo said, as blunt as ever, making tommy ever-so-slightly flinch.

"you really know me, huh, tubs?" tommy said, starting to shake a tiny bit, only noticeable to him

BOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM

lightning and thunder crashed down as rain started pounding on the old house, making both boys flinch and hang onto each other.

BOOOOOOOM

the only sounds in tommy's ears were the tnt booms and wilbur's laughter. it wasn't actual laughter, more like maniacal laughter. debris fell at his and tubbo's feet. was this l'manburg now? a hole in the wall? was wilbur really the traitor? it didn't seem to fit. eret seemed more likely, not wilbur. what the fuck?

"tommy! we need to go! now!" tubbo yelled at him, though tommy could barely hear him. he sounded tinny and far away. uh oh.

"i'm coming tubbo! hurry!" tommy screamed back, starting to sprint as fast as he could. the world was spinning. why was the world spinning? the edges of tommy's vision started going dark, and his legs felt like jell-o. why was he running? oh yeah, l'manburg was no more. fuckin' wilbur and his fuckin' tnt.

"ah, tommy! why are you running? there's no need to! i'm your friend, remember? i'm your friend, tommy. why are you running away from me?" dream asked, materializing infront of tommy with some sort of fucking magic.

"no. no, no, no, nO NO. DREAM NO! YOU'RE NOT MY FRIEND! NO. YOU'RE NOT MY FRIEND. YOU'RE NOT MY FRIEND! YOU ALMOST MADE ME KILL MYSELF! No, you're not my friend, dream. no friend of mine would do that." tommy yelled, flipping dream off and trying to walk around him.

"...my, tommy, toMMY! TOMMY!" tubbo yelled, trying to ground tommy back to reality.

"NO DREAM!"

"it's not dream, tommy. it's tubbo! hey, it's okay! look, can you tell me five things you see?" tubbo said, using a tactic techno taught him for helping tommy through his panic and anxiety attacks.

"t-the bla-*hic* the blanket, your hair-r, u-um, m-my desk, the, uh, the fan, and your pins." tommy said, starting to calm down the tiniest bit.

"perfect, now four things you feel."

"my socks, your hand on my a-arm, um, my shirt, and, uh, my ring."

"perfect, now tell me three things you hear."

"the, uh, tv from downstairs, the rain, and your breathing."

"you're doing so good. now two things smell?"

"ummmm, the rain, and the detergent phil uses."

"you're doing so good. now what is one thing you taste?"

"the dr. pepper from earlier." tommy replied at last, sniffling and rubbing his arm as a sort of stim.

"you did so good, i'm so proud of you big man. wanna put on a show or something?" tubbo asked, reaching up and running his fingers through tommy's hair, a routine both boys created after one of them has a panic attack.

"can we listen to lo-fi? the halloween ones?" tommy asks, leaning into tubbo and laying on his lap.

"of course we can. here, drink some water, that seemed like a more extreme panic attack." tubbo said, grabbing tommy's red hydro flask from off the nightstand and handing it to him.

"thanks, tubs. love you." tommy said, accepting the water bottle and drinking some.

"love you too, tommy. now, which playlist: 'lo-fi for funky ghosts' or 'a lo-fi playlist for calming down during halloween night'?"

"the halloween night one."

"mkay!"

wc: 761