TW!! ////

Suicide
Manipulation
Just C!Dream in general-
As well as references to weather storms

Tommy stood with his head held low as he stared beneath his feet at crumbling netherrack that barely stood a chance against his shifting feet- it was poetic in a sense, the one lifeline beneath him crumbling and threatening to plunge him into certain death if he makes one wrong move.

It provoked a buzzing anxiety within him, similar but seduced compared to the feelings he felt at the site of his most recent of exiles. Things within him that he wished he could swallow down without issue provided him with horrible thoughts, 'You could walk off right now,' they poked and prodded endlessly at his dangling emotional state 'stomp on it. Let your last hope fall through beneath you,' some voices nagging him jokingly with slight pushes to do a flip off of the ledge.

Tommy wished, hoped, prayed, and even begged that the voices would fade, would give him some semblance of peace- a sign that if nobody were there to stop him from punching his own ticket, he could somehow save himself.

The voices still never rested. Persisted in their never-ending attempts to get the teenager's last thread to snap at the drop of a dime. Something to wear down his sanity to the thinnest rope and quickly let down it's drawbridge to the inner works of his mind.

Tommy fought back with the voices in the beginning, focusing on the positive things he had left. Ghostbur had stayed and kept him up multiple nights with endless conversation back and forth filled with smiles and laughs. He kept his smile wide and his spirits high.

Then Ghostbur stopped visiting after his heart crushing and pathetic beach party- Of course, Tommy still had hope. He was a kid with a fire- a truly untouchable flame. It had been reduced to a flickering ember once but had just returned stronger. He refused to let rain and hail douse his flame. He was strong, a big man.

Tommy continued to hold his head high. As high as he could towards the blizzard facing him in his mind. Continuing to wait for appraisal. Maybe even ONE message from Tubbo. Something to ground him like he had felt before. He still refused to let his fire be stamped. It flickered as wind did it's rounds, heightening and reducing it to nothing but an ember refusing to be defeated.

It always lit back. But each time, the flames seemed to waver with less heat.

Soon, Tommy started grasping at straws. Savoring each small stick he could grab- reserving it as kindling to keep his mere flickering flame alight. Dream was like a sand storm, the sand would stamp on Tommy's flame until he barely had a lightable camp fire. Yet his wind would provide overwhelming oxygen, keeping Tommy's flame so high it almost started a bushfire before being snuffed by Tommy himself to protect the nature around him.

But one day, Tommy made a mistake. He let his fire burn too bright- burn too high. It caught fire to his land as it started to crumble around him. Dream came back once again, as if sent from the gods to protect nature- to protect Tommy- he arrived with the fiercest of sand storms. Hardly any oxygen swirling the ferocious blizzard of sand around, it completely stomped upon Tommy's flame. Not a single ember left to save of his inner warmth.

That was when his rope frayed and utterly snapped. The fire once burning end to end reducing it to ashes once snuffed out.

Tommy began to realize why he was pulled towards the lava so much- why the voices reasoned with him oh so fairly.

His fire was gone with no sign of returning. And well, who was Tommy to refuse a new wave of warmth as a final grounding point?