MCYT Oneshots

War (Tommyinnit)

TW- slight PTSD; hurt/no comfort;

Requested by @Pan_With_A_Plan14

No ships in this!! I will not ship minors.

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Tommy laid on top of a hill far from pogtopia. Listening to the wind as it echoed and howled, whispering words into his ear. The cold night air did well to battle the warmth against his skin. The heat losing the war, being drowned out by the sharper feeling. It stung his skin like needles. His cyan eyes were dried out from starring too long, but it didn't matter. Nothing really mattered anymore.

He felt like his life was losing color. Everything seemed so dull and meaningless. Schlatt had won, their nation was lost. Wilbur had gone insane, Tubbo was hurt and in care from the festival, Technoblade just wanted violence. What had gone wrong? Where did this all start? Why did this all start?

All they wanted to do was make a nation. Together, for safety. But instead it caused a war. Tommy had almost lost his life, he wasn't meant to be in a war. He was still a kid, only 16 years old. Yet, he was made into a warrior. No, a soldier for war. And that's all he'd be. Wilbur had said to his face, he'd never be president. He'd never be important.

He had lost his discs to try and bring peace back to the lands. But it didn't seem to work. Wilbur wanted to make an election. One that he would win. And yet, he lost, and everything they worked, fought for, was gone. They were exiled from the land. Forbidden to set foot on Manburg without permission.

Tommy had lost everything. His ignorance and innocence, his home, his precious discs, his best friend, his leader. What was even worth fighting for anyway? Schlatt had more people on his side. He had more power. It was obvious who would win. A kid, a former president who was going insane, a pig 'god' who didn't care who won, and a man who was just in the shadows. Or a powerful man, who was now president, with disciples and other citizens, who were also powerful in their own ways.

Tommy sighed, closing his eyes for the first time in minutes. He didn't bother wiping at wet strands that fell from his eyes.

Darkness surrounded his vision. He tried to let him self relax but one again, flashes and booms replayed in his mind. He couldn't sleep, never mind relax. His mind was tainted with visions and memories from a civil war. He was too young to be involved in this. He shouldn't've been fighting. Scars that littered his skin still gave burning feelings, even though the were healed physically, they weren't healed mentally.

Tommy shot up, his eyes widening as a 'boom' echoed through his mind. It hurt, even if it wasn't really happening. Tommy remember the pain and the aching. He remembers downing healing pots one after another trying to stay alive. Watching his friends, his family, practically morph their skin back. He remembers the taste of potions. The pain of getting slashed by a sword. The sound and blast of an explosion. The sharp feeling of an arrow in his chest. It was all burned into his memory.

He hated feeling of being so vulnerable. But it was so hard to not be. He didn't have Tubbo to talk about things anymore. They were the same age, they both had gone through the war. They had a bond, a trauma bond, per say. They had gone through similar pains and efforts that were futile in the end. They always had each others backs.

But now Tommy didn't have Tubbo. They didn't have each other since they were forced to be on different sides.

Tommy ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself. He stood up and used his hands to brush off his pants. He had been gone for hours, but even so, he doubted Techno or Wilbur cared or even noticed.

He looked over the grass plains, seeing a tower from the holy lands in the distance. Manburg is over there, Tommy thought distantly, so is Tubbo.

The blonde looked away. He couldn't get caught up in his feeling. He had to win this battle, if not for L'manburg, then for himself. He had to stop Wilbur from blowing up Manburg. He had to get Techno really on his side. He had to get Tubbo safe. He had to get people on his side. He had to fight.

Tommy wiped at his eyes, trying to rid the pain from sleep deprivation and refusal to blink. Straightening his posture, he stood strong, to mask his hurt. This wasn't time to give up. Schlatt was going to fall. He will win.

No matter what.

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So sorry I haven't been writing! Writers block hit me like a train, I wrote to much at once and its now back to bite me in the ass.

It may take me a while to get back at it, but I'll still be updating, it'll just take me a little longer.

Requests are open!!!