#Tommy Thread

[morethanweseem]

Tag drop. Have a gifL

[ganxiously]

the thing is . . . if i was ga, watching without looking up interviews or anything, kinda like the way I watch the other shows, I would absolutely be expecting them to get back together, right? like just going by the story, it feels like they are getting back together because you ended the breakup like that, made character A spend the whole episode wanting to call and then showed character B typing and deleting a text. is it clowning or going by just how much the ga sees, we were never done in the first place? like the only damning thing about this breakup is what I can find in the interviews

[bucksboobs]

Unfortunately, because we know they filmed 809 already, and which means they wrote it before the backlash to the breakup, the earliest we can hope for a course correction is 810. Which kinda sucks because the way Lou talks, I know he isn’t going to be in 808 or 809. So we just kind of have to hope for either nothing new or something small.

[cometconnector]

do you guys like my new pfp

hii werewolf tommy kinard.. welcome to my brain..

[alchemistc]

Thinking thoughts about the things season one Buck didn't think he was ready for in a relationship and now I'm giving myself some pain bc what if Tommy's trauma isn't helicopter crash. What if Tommy's dad is all alone in a hell of his own making and he gets diagnosed with something terminal and Tommy is the only one around to take care of him. What if Tommy hasn't talked to his dad in a decade but when he needs help there's just. No one else available. What if Tommy has to take on this burden that he doesn't want and his father hates it as much as he does but it's the only option for either of them.

And what if Buck is just there to support Tommy. What if he knows the burden, knows how much time it takes up, knows things will go awry. What if he understands that Tommy doesn't want to reconcile with the man but he's there for all the difficult moments where Tommy is so fucking angry and trying to reel it in.

What if Tommy's dad has a moment of clarity with Buck and it doesn't matter, it's too late, Tommy can't find it in him to forgive his dad. What if Buck gets that.

What if Tommy's dad passes without the closure you'd expect from 911 and that's just part of the story. It's part of Tommy's story, and Buck's now too, and all this talk of living dads and dead dads and bad examples of what it means to be a man and good examples of what it means to be a man are just there, and we have to deal with that.

What if Buck is sitting with Tommy in the aftermath, and Tommy is just so sorry Buck had to deal with all of his bullshit while he had so much of his own shit going on, and Buck is just like Hey, I'm not in this for pretty arm candy. This is a real thing, and real life throws you in the blender sometimes and shakes you out different.

And maybe resolution comes in the Gerrard arc somehow, or a Bobby arc, or a Phillip arc, or maybe it just doesn't come at all. Maybe life is just messy sometimes and we have to push our way through it.

[shaunashipman]

earned what??? what haven't they earned??

buck and tommy are gonna be married with 3 kids and you'll still be saying they haven't "earned it"

[discourse-evolved]

Oh it's been a while since I've broken this bad boy blog out of the sewers.

But hey, let's talk about the mcyt fandom.

Truly, joining Twitter in 2021 was one of the worst steps back for my mental health that I had in a while. Did I meet a ton of really amazing, incredibly talented writers and artists, much easier than I ever did on Tumblr? Yeah! Sure! But I also experienced such an incredibly deep sense of anxiety when every fucking move I made was potentially aired to hundreds of people, which made me realize why I hate Twitter so much.

Scrolling through Tumblr I don't feel any sense of legitimate fear if I like a post to go back to it later, because no one else can see that and accuse me of liking a potentially "problematic" artist or blog. I can spend some of my downtime scrolling through the intriguing, silly mess that is my dashboard and go back to that post that I felt was sus later to see what it was really about.

I understand that people are always nervous about interacting with people that they don't agree with things on. The problematic ones, the ones with weird and uncommon kinks, the ones that make people uncomfortable, but the sheer amount of rampant paranoia I saw within the mcyt fandom on twitter in 2021-2022 felt like the end of fandom as I knew it.

And with a fandom like mcyt, I get it! Dealing with real people and the characters built off of them and especially with content creators who are SO deeply entwined and connected to their audience is much more difficult terrain to traverse when it comes to the taboo.

But seeing the way that so many people got so caught up in wild witch hunts was pretty fuckin terrible too. An errant ao3 bookmark, an off-color comment, an idea from people who weren't familiar with the fandom at large and the content creators' different specific boundaries, and they would be attacked en masse.

I fuckin hated it. I hated it so much. But I couldn't say anything about it, even if I didn't agree with the person myself, because defending someone against the mass dehumanization from the rest of the fandom would mean that I went down with them.

And that, at its core, is something that deeply concerns and scares me. Because at the end of the day, who and what is fanfic, even problematic ones, hurting? No one who doesn't read it. And with a site like ao3 with tags and warnings and summaries, that should be happening less and less, if people just use it properly.

I'm not saying there weren't weird people in the fandom that I would prefer to not to interact with myself, and I'm not going to say that I people should be forced to interact with people who make them uncomfortable.

But, I am saying that far too many people in that fandom were ready to dehumanize anybody who stepped even slightly out of bounds, which is something that no one deserves.

I could really go on and on about this topic and the purity culture that exists within the mcyt fandom, but by god I'm not mentally ready for that rn. Just remember that weird people are people too and don't deserve to die because of fiction that they thought up/made art of/wrote down.

[curreres]

who: violet and tommy / @thirtecnth

where: the lake party

violet spots tommy lingering near the water's edge but not fully committing to stepping in as she's wading only ankle-deep within the water and she raises a brow at him. "water's not gonna bite you."

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Beating back more fic ideas with a stick

[morethanweseem]

"I love the confidence with which you say things that mean absolutely nothing to me."

[normalbrothers]

tommy's open refusal to 'swallow food in the same room as the priest' and then vomiting when charlie's abducted by father hughes :(

[hivemindscape]

The waves continued to lap against the shore. Push and pull. Breathe in, breathe out.

“What triggered it?”

The question was quiet, and so out of the blue it took Wilbur a moment to realize Tommy had asked it.

“What do you mean?” Wilbur asked.

“Your panic attack,” Tommy clarified, his hair tickling Wilbur’s cheek again. “Was it random, or did something trigger it?”

"Your Name Is A Triangle" by @bonesandthebees​

song i drew this to alt version under the cut

[painofhumanity]

@scarlet-prophecy gets a starter

For the last three years, Tommy had called the S.W.O.R.D. base home. Yet that morning, he woke up feeling like someone was calling to him, urging him to come find them. It felt familiar, like the echoes of a forgotten dream. He should have told his handler; it was the kind of thing they would want to know. But he didn't. Instead of going to training like he was supposed to, Tommy started running; it wasn't like anyone could do anything to stop him. They didn't even realize he was gone until it was too late.

Tommy kept running, following the mental tug, and found himself at a park, where a woman sat on the bench like she was waiting for him. "Wanda Maximoff," he breathed, not winded but surprised. "They told me you were dead."

[lxvenderhxzehv]

Where: Emi's place Who: Emi and Tommy (@thirtecnth)

"Okay! enough about me and James! You need to tell me how the hell you started dating THE Freya Chamberlain?!" She she smiling stupidly "I can't believe you didn't know who she was, she's a fashion icon!" she clapped her hands together "Okay I'll shut up, tell me, tell me, tell me!"

[youllalwaysbemyporcelain]

@lavendaers (for a random starter)

Tommy stops in his tracks when he sees the other. He feels anxiety first, knowing what she'd done. Then he remembered he was going to do the same to her. So he takes a deep breath and walks up to her. "Um, hello." He doesn't really know what to say.

[deathsplaything]

Location: Sugar Pot backroom Timing: Current, midday then at nightfall Parties: Alistair (Ft. Melody and Tommy) Summary: Something unthinkable happens, and Alistair must do something even worse. A necromantic ritual to bring back the dead is performed. Choices are made. Content Warnings: Child death tw, parental death tw, ritual sacrifice

“Mo ghaol cha'n fhaigh thu bàs.”

It was supposed to be a normal day at the Sugar Pot. Melody had left to go pick up Tommy from school, and Alistair could handle the slower end of the day with little trouble. There were no customers at the moment, so they were simply reorganizing the jars around the store so labels were facing outward for their ease. That’s when the door rang and they heard ragged breathing. “Alistair, he’s… you have to help him.” It was Melody, she was sobbing and could barely get her words out. Their heart sank, knowing that could only mean one thing. “Please, it was a drowngr,” Melody spoke through racked sobs, already heading for the back room. “Mels…” Alistair was at a loss, quickly waving their hand for Brutus to follow them into the back room. “What’s the damage?” They finally asked after closing themselves into the back room with Melody, Tommy, and Brutus. It was cramped, but Alistair couldn’t think about that. All they could think about was how the closest thing they’d ever had to a son was dying. 

Melody was beside herself, putting Tommy down in the center of the spell circle and letting out a sob. He wasn’t conscious, he wasn’t breathing. Her baby was dying or already dead and there was nothing she could do. That’s when she stilled. There was something that Alistair could do. “Alistair, you have to bring him back. You have to.” Melody pleaded, grasping at the necromancer’s hands as realization dawned on their face. “Mels, I… you know what you’re asking me to do, here,” Alistair spoke, voice pleading. 

Melody was asking to take Tommy’s place. She was begging him to sacrifice her to bring their child back. While Tommy wasn’t his biologically, he was in every other way that counted. Alistair would sooner sacrifice himself than let Melody do it. Melody was their everything. When they had nothing, Melody had come along and saved them from themselves. When they’d lost Mikael, she was right there to help pick up the pieces that had left Alistair shattered. Now she was asking them to say goodbye to her, say goodbye to the life they had built. 

“Mels, I… you can’t ask that of me.” Their voice cracked as they spoke, tears threatening to fall as they dealt with the implications of her request. “If Tommy’s gone, then I’m already gone.” She whimpered, pressing her forehead to Alistair’s. “You have to do this for me. I… he’s my boy. He needs to live. He’s only twelve. He’s… Alistair, you have to.” Alistair closed their eyes, then slowly nodded their head. Melody would never forgive herself if her son died and she did nothing, knowing that she could bring him back. “You have to, Al.” Melody pleaded once more time as she watched them nod their head. 

Alistair knelt over Tommy’s body and felt for a pulse. Nothing. A sob wracked their body as they realized what was happening. Tommy had been killed by a drowngr, and now Melody would sacrifice herself to take her son’s place. They were losing someone important to them all over again. When they needed her most, she was there for them. But now, she needed them. And they knew that they needed to do this. “Mels, I… know that I love you, okay?” Alistair spoke, turning their head in the direction of Melody.

Melody let out another sob, knelt beside Alistair, and pulled him into her arms, letting them both cry in each other’s arms as they cried for what was to come, and what could never be. “I love you too, Al.” She spoke between sobs, squeezing them tightly. “You’ve been everything to me. But Tommy is more. He’s… he’s our son.” She spoke, pressing her forehead to Alistair’s and pressing a kiss to their lips. A sob escaped Alistair’s lips as Melody pulled away. Alistair rubbed their hands together, letting out a frustrated cry before turning to their ingredients cabinet. Lycoris Radiata petals, also known as a corpse flower. “We have to wait until sundown,” Alistair told her, voice hollow and far away. “You need to get something important to him, really important to him.” They walked back over to Melody, squeezing her hands tightly. Alistair had never talked about the necromantic ritual to Melody before, and they’d not practiced it in so long. But it had to go perfectly. Any small mess-up could ruin everything, leaving them without Tommy and Melody for the rest of their days. “I need to prepare.” That was all they said as they continued to gather ingredients for each point of the pentacle that Tommy was laid on.

Melody knew better than to interrupt Alistair when they got like this, but she also knew that this was going to be the last time that she’d be with them. So she took their hands again and then hugged them tightly. “Thank you.” She murmured into their ear, which earned her a shuddered sob from Alistair in return. “I know this is hard for you, but he matters more than anything else in this world.” She spoke, pulling away so she could look at Alistair, who looked shattered all over again. “I know.” They spoke in reply, squeezing her hands just as hard as she was squeezing theirs. “I know, but it still hurts. It always will.” 

Melody gave a sad smile, then nodded her head, her mind was made up. “I’ll be back soon. I have to get his baby blanket, it was his father’s.” She frowned, thinking deeper. There was something else she had to get, and that was her will. She’d had it written knowing the danger of this town, and the will left Alistair as Tommy’s legal guardian, she had no other family to take him in, and Alistair was family. She pressed one last kiss to Alistair’s cheek before departing, leaving Alistair alone to care for Tommy and prepare the ingredients. 

Corpse flower petals on the top point, grave dirt on the right point, black copal incense burning on the bottom right point, full moon-charged water on the bottom left point, and coal to represent fire on the left point. A spell taught to them by his mother to open their senses to magick and promote success. It was different for every practitioner, though their spells of this magnitude, in their mind, needed offerings to the death gods they practiced under. They sat in front of the spell circle until sundown in a meditative state, only breaking from it when Melody returned at sundown. It was time to prepare for the ritual. 

Pulled from the cabinet was an obsidian dagger, ornate in design, yet simple. Sharp. Deadly. This was the very tool Alistair would use to end Melody’s life, and in turn, bring back Tommy. There was only one chance to get this right. Alistair took the blanket and set it ablaze, letting the ashes scatter around in a circle around Tommy’s prone form and spell ingredients. 

Melody watched somberly, hugging herself tightly as Alistair flitted around the room like a specter. Ingredients here, words spoken there. By the time they were done, the sun had set. Alistair spoke a few words in a language that Melody couldn’t understand, and then a hand reached out toward her. It was time. Alistair held her hand tightly for a moment, lost in their own world of spellcraft and ritual sacrifice. “Mo ghaol cha'n fhaigh thu bàs.” My love for you will not die. Alistair spoke to her before bringing her to the center of the spell circle, a powerful green smoke coming from the incense that burned on the right point of the star. “I will never forget what you’ve done for me, for Tommy. For us.” And with that, they pressed a kiss to her lips and dragged the obsidian blade across Melody’s throat Melody tried to gasp for breath, legs giving out under her, and Alistair held her aloft as the blood poured from the wound and onto Tommy’s body. A sacrifice, like for like. One spellcaster to save another. A mother sacrificing herself to save her son.

Standing for a long moment with Melody firm in their arms, a weak hand stretched out and touched Alistair’s cheek, smiled weakly, then fell down to her side. Melody was gone. Alistair set her down gently and began to pull from the ether, the tether between father and son forming to bring Tommy back from death. Tommy’s chest began to rise and fall, but Alistair didn’t stop, not there. The tether was pulled from their very essence, feeling a bit of life drain from their very being before cutting their palm with the blade and drew a sigil onto Tommy’s chest, then onto their own. A seal that would bind them together. Alistair could not see the sigil turn from blood to black, but could only trust that it was there. That it had been done correctly. They needed this to be done correctly. Any emotions they felt for the situation would be dealt with afterward, but they couldn’t let it interrupt the ritual now. 

They knelt beside Tommy, waiting. After what felt like a lifetime, a small hand reached out toward Alistair. “Al?” The boy croaked, and Alistair instantly fell apart at the sound of Tommy’s voice, pulling him close to him and hugging him tightly. “It’s alright, you’re back now.” He murmured to the boy, who clung to the necromancer with all his might. “Where’s… where’s Mom?” He asked, looking around and letting out a cry of agony at the form of his mother’s body on the ground, throat slit. “No, you… she couldn’t. You didn’t.” Tommy shook his head fiercely. “A mother’s love knows no limits,” Alistair spoke softly, and Brutus who had waited in the corner of the room finally walked over to Tommy and plopped himself into his lap, and the boy hugged the dog tight and cried. 

Alistair felt a tear run down their cheek, but that was all they allowed to flow. They took the discarded rag and tied it around their hand to stop the bleeding. They had to tend to Melody’s body. They couldn’t rest until it was over. With the ritual complete, they rose to their feet. There was much to do, and now they had the most important person in their life to take care of, their son. They would do anything to keep Tommy safe.

“Tommy, I’m so sorry,” Alistair murmured, kneeling next to the boy and wrapping his arms tightly around the boy he’d come to love as if he were his own. Tommy continued to sob, eyes peering out to look at his mother’s lifeless body, then quickly squeezed them shut again. “I’ve got you,” Alistair promised as Tommy once again clung to them. “I’m going to give you the world and then some.” They promised, squeezing the boy as tight as they could. “I swear to you, I won’t let anything separate us.” They pulled themselves away enough to look the boy in the eyes, and Tommy nodded his head, eyes filled with tears. “I loved your mother,” Alistair told him, carding a hand through the young boy’s curly blonde hair. He looked so much like his mother. “I will always love your mother, just as you will.” Tommy let out a choked sob and pushed his head into Alistair’s chest. 

There was no undoing what had been done. There was no convincing a drowngr to stop in its tracks just as much as there was no convincing the knife that had cut across Melody’s throat to undo itself. Slowly, Alistair held Tommy tight in their arms and rose to their feet, walking out of the back room. Away from Melody, away from the sugar pot. Away from the dastardly deed they had to perform. It was late, the streets were barren as the necromancer walked with Tommy in their arms, Brutus by their side.