Myct SbI angst + fluff oneshots (read desc)

Dinner is not over! (Angst)

Here's the angst u want gremlin. Enjoy

TW
SUICIDAL THOUGHTS/MENTIONS/ACTIONS
PAST TRAUMA
MENTIONS OF FIRE, DEATH AND CRASHES (its just the news)
SH (SELF HARM)
BLOOD
KNIFE
HHHH IM SO LAZY I HATE CHAPTER SET UP
ILL FINIHS THIS LATER
(There's fluffy shit after I swear)
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-+??? POV+-

He sat at the dinner table with his head down, surrounded by an empty table decorated with plates for people who will never show up. The empty seats haunting him, seemingly mocking his misery. He lifted his head up to stare at the plate before him, filled with delicious brightly colored food. Normally he would happily eat the food but, the current smell of the food made him sick to his stomach. For a split second he could have sworn he saw maggots crawling out the one beautiful food, which was now full of mold and rot. Just as fast as it came it left. He shook his head before pushing himself out the seat. He could finish dinner later, right now he just can't handle it.

He made his was to his bedroom, passing the empty halls and the dusty floors. The spiders in the corner peeking up at him, they don't see the strange being move often. He sat in his plain bedroom, beige walls and void of any comfort items that once stood. What once decorated his room was stored into boxes and buckets, all labeled "you can have it ______". If he were to leave, his close friends could have what was once his. Perhaps their son would find great use in his plushie collection. The thought of Henry (his favorite plushy) collecting dust and rotting away in his house made his heart hurt.

He shook his head, worsening his already pulsing headache but getting him out of his current train of thought. Maybe some sleep could let his thoughts go away, fly into the sky as it crumbles to ash. It would be nice to loose the thoughts that plagued his days and sabotaged his once peaceful nights. Don't get him wrong, this whole thing was his idea. Letting his family, his friends go away without him. A break from having to deal with him, hell a reward for being able to stick around for so long. Maybe he should have scheduled it when his mental health wasn't crumbling into bits, little spirals that were quickly turning into avalanches.

——x——x——x——x——

He stared at the ceiling, somehow not feeling very rested from his 12 hour nap. The urge to stay laying for the rest of his miserable days were tempting, but he knew better than to listen to urges. That's how he got here in the first place after all.

He pushed himself, finally sitting up on his bed. Slowly but surely he stood up and made his way out of his room, into the hall. He looked at his brothers rooms sadly, he really misses them. Perhaps they are coming back soon? Who knows? Surely not Tommy, he forgot how long its been. Has it even been a year? A month? A week? He shrugged off the thought before making his way downstairs, into the kitchen.

The table was still there, covered in rotten food for people not there to eat it. But Tommy was here to eat his food, so he grabbed a bowl and poured himself some milk. Reaching to the top of the fridge to grab a bag of Honey Nut Cherrihoes ™️, pouring it into his bowl for a nice healthy breakfast. (As healthy as the US breakfast gets.)

He sat watching the TV from the living room sofa, enjoying his bowl of Cherrihoes ™️. The news was playing, a local fire burnt down a home and killed 1 man. How tragic. Breaking and entering gone wrong, killed a whole family of 4. (Average crime in the US ngl). With each story the details seemed to be more graphic as the crimes were more tragic.

" plane from ____ airlines crashes- " The women from the news channel began to read out the next story. She was interrupted when the TV was shut off. Suddenly he found no interest in watching the news. He stood up heading to drop his bowl into the sink. The dishes were pretty piled up. Oh boy Phil will be mad when he gets home.. if he- no dont think like that, when. He sighed, gripping the counter before collapsing on the floor.

He could feel his cheeks grow wet from the tears streaming down, his breath becoming shallow as the air refused to enter. He brought his hands to his eyes before beginning to cry, what a fool he is to think he could do it alone. He could barely keep it together when he was with a group of people, imagine now. A sob ripped through his throat, one after another. The world around him grew blurry and the ringing in his ear got louder.

Who was he kidding, he cant do this alone. " im so sorry. " he muttered to himself before pulling himself up the counter, reaching for the knife set on the corner. He pulled out a decently sized knife before heading to the upstairs bathroom. Looking in the mirror one last time, he could see his messed up hair, it was truly a birds nest. The dark purple bags under his eyes accompanied by the dirt on his cheeks. He took a shaky breath as he took in his current appearance. God he looked like such a mess. He lifted up the knife he held tightly in his hand, bringing it to his arm. He plunged the knife, hoping to hit a vein.

He then just drew it across the arm several times over. Red filling his vision as he stumbled back into the shower. He dropped the knife and gripped the counter as he slowly sunk to the floor. The world around him was spinning, static filling his ears. As he sat in what was slowly becoming a pool of his own blood, he could have sworn he heard a call from the floor below. Perhaps it was just from the blood loss.

The world grew dark, and his breathing began to slow.

"TOMMY?!"

Someone was knocking at the door. He grumbled to himself, cant even die in peace.

Wait.. they aren't supposed to be home yet?

The knocking at the door grew more persistent. A soft voice was calling from the other side. From what Tommy could tell, he was practically begging for the door to be opened. It started hopeful but slowly grew desperate and scared. Perhaps it was the smell of iron filling the air.

The door was knocked down, at least from what he could tell. His vision was far too blurry to know for sure. Someone in a bright yellow jumper dashed towards him, collapsing onto the ground beside him. "Wil-by?"

His shuttered at the sound of his own voice, though words too hard to form anyways. The figure picked him up, calling out to another one. This on was a bit shorter than the first. Its big wings making up for missing height. He was handed to the bird and they began to whisper to him, something about staying awake, he was too tired to care. So he let his eyes rest.

1225 words
Sorry i had to get this done lol

Merry xmas! Happy yule! Happy hanukah! Happy kwanza! Happy new year!

And happy birthday to me! (Dec 29 2022)

Its so odd to say this.. posted on jan 2nd 2023 4:35 am

NOT PROOF READ!

drink water, love you all <3
If anyone needs to talk im here. I accept everyone into my arms