Tommyinnit Oneshots

The Perfect Order

"Yeah, but you're always hanging out with Ranboo. It's not fair," He muttered the last part. "What's not fair about that, Tommy? He's my husband. We share a child and a home," Tubbo sighed, already knowing where this was going. "Yeah, but he's fuckin'..." He took a deep breath, and Tubbo clenched his eyes shut, predicting his next words. "He's stolen you from me!" 

"Ranboo hasn't stolen me, Tommy. I don't belong to you, and I don't belong to him either. You need to understand that my priorities have changed and that I've grown up. You should too."

When Tommy didn't respond, Tubbo felt a tinge of guilt. He knew his words were true, but it didn't mean Tommy needed to hear them from him, and in such a harsh way. "Look, I will make it more of a priority to spend time with you. Would that be okay?" He brought out his peace-making voice, and that was when Tommy decided he didn't want to be there anymore.

With a groan in frustration, he stopped his walking. "I don't want your pity time. If that's the reason you hang out with me, then maybe we shouldn't hang out." With that, he walked away, leaving the atmosphere charged with anger and unresolved issues. He wouldn't be the one to fix them that day.

-

Tommy walked through the woods for hours, not noticing the sun inch closer and closer to the treeline, too lost in his thoughts. He regretted his fight with Tubbo, but he didn't want to take back his words. He was never one for dwelling on his mistakes. He wouldn't apologize; he would just move on and hope Tubbo would too.

His thoughts were interrupted with a flash of pink through the maze of trees around him. Then again a few moments later to the left.

The pink blob revealed itself to be the evil Piglin spawn by the name of Michael. God, Tommy spent way too much time thinking about Michael. Not in a creepy way, he just didn't know how to feel about him.

On the one hand, Michael was an innocent kid who barely had the brain capacity to add single-digit numbers at his age. On the other hand, if it weren't for Michael, there wouldn't be so much of a rift between Tommy and his platonically-married friends. On top of that, whenever he looked at the kid he was reminded of already how much better his childhood was than Tommy's. He had two loving parents who doted on him every second. They built him a huge house, distanced themselves from the conflicts and the people, and loved him so much more than Tommy could even fathom. He was happy to see the Piglin child getting everything he hadn't, but it made him so unbearably jealous.

Unfortunately, this wasn't a good time to fix his one-sided issues with the kid, because he was noticing that it was currently nearing dusk and Michael was nowhere near his home. 

He was still a bit far away, so he walked toward the kid. Why was he lying down?

"Michael? Buddy, why are you out here all alone?"

He was met with a groan that pushed the panic buttons in his brain, shooting him into overdrive. He hurried toward the kid, and the closer he got, the stronger the smell of blood became.

"Oh God," Tommy murmured in horror, his shaky hands hovering over the boy's frail body. There was a gaping hole in his abdomen, what looked to be a hostile mob bite of some sort. Zombie, spider, it wasn't concerning to Tommy. What he was worried about was how lightly and slowly the boy's chest was rising and falling. 

"Unc' Tom," Michael wheezed. "No Michael, don't speak. We've got to get you back to your dads," Tommy rushed, but he swore time stopped as the boy's chest stopped moving and his eyes drifted closed. He was waiting for time to unpause, but the register of his shaky breaths told him that time was moving just fine. Michael was dead.

He spent many hours that night consoling the grieving couple, along with other members of the SMP. He went to sleep with unbearable guilt in his chest. Oh God, it should have been him.