EMi_Rea
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Things are almost good for a little while. There is something like safety, like healing settling over the little cabin in the snow.
It feels a little bit like coming home, Tommy thinks, but he doesn’t say it out loud. It scares him sometimes, this vulnerability, this stability that could be torn out from under his feet at any moment. Trust is something he has felt like a knife in his back over and over. Trust is falling again and again even though there’s never anyone there to catch him before he hits the ground. Trust is broken bones and split lips, trust is spitting out blood and using his tongue to check for loose teeth.
And yet, and yet, when the same hands that curled into fists once before extend as open palmed offerings, he still takes them. Dream called him stupid, helpless, naive. Dream was right, Tommy knows, but Dream smelled like gunpowder and a bitter kind of smoke.
The smoke here is sweet and Tommy has never been one to learn from his mistakes.
Tommy had been Theseus for a little while. Tommy had been Icarus, Atlas, Prometheus.
But before all of that, he had been Tommy. Maybe there was a place for him to be again, now, in the after.
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- English
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Bookmarked by EMi_Rea
14 Jun 2026
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Once upon a time, he’d been a legend, a hero, a story told to awestruck children and reenacted in wooden sword fights in the schoolyard.
Philza Minecraft had been a name (was still a name) whispered about with equal parts excitement and fear. The Angel of Death, they had called him. A man who brought liberation and riches to your lands if they weren’t lost to hellfire and chaos first.
He once slayed dragons—giant ferocious beasts with scales as black as the sky of the End, only visible by the light of their violet magic that came with the thunderous roars that left his ears ringing for days after his triumph. He had fought gods. He had fought kings.
Raised and razed empires in the same breath, or so the stories go.
Sweat drips into his eyes as he glares at the little patch of garden that was overtaken with weeds sometime in his long absence. He wonders, bitterly, if those same children would be disappointed to see him now, bested by a legion of thistle and dandelions.
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- English
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- 3/3
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Bookmarked by EMi_Rea
13 Jun 2026
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“Who did this to you?” the Blood God growls, low and dangerous. And anyone in their right mind would be afraid, would be shitting their pants, but Tommy just flicks his eyes to the floor and mumbles that it doesn’t matter.
Echo hums softly, brushing his fingers gently over the bruises coloring Tommy’s cheek, stopping at the gash over his eyebrow before carding through his hair. Tommy doesn’t mean to lean into the touch, he knows these men are dangerous, are deadly, but he can’t help but feel safe, wrapped up in their brutal care.
- Language:
- English
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- 6,899
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- 3/3
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Bookmarked by EMi_Rea
13 Jun 2026
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Bookmarked by EMi_Rea
13 Jun 2026
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“It’s raining, Tech,” Tommy says again because he doesn’t get it and Tommy can’t understand what there is to get. “I like the rain.” Techno listens and Tommy stumbles closer, letting his brother catch him by his forearms. “I forgot I could feel like this,” he says, half laughing and half crying. “I forgot I liked the rain. I forgot I liked the rain, Technoblade. How could I forget this?”
Crimson eyes flick over Tommy’s face, searching for something, and Tommy can’t tell if he found it or didn’t with the way his grip just ever so slightly tightens. He tugs gently, frowning again, and glancing around the ruins-turned-garden he found Tommy in. “Alright, you’re gonna make yourself sick, come on, I’ll get you wherever you were going.”
or the one that's about recovery before anything else
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- English
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Bookmarked by EMi_Rea
13 Jun 2026