I want to hold you in my arms and burn
Tommy Craft, youngest child to the famed Philza Minecraft, was raised within war. Raised to fight, raised to kill, raised to revolt. As such, “childish antics” were war crimes that pushed boundaries between friends and enemies.
To be young, to not realize what was happening right before his very eyes- broken bonds and shattered memories of days long since past- how he wished he could be young inside and out, and not feel a decade older than he was; to not feel the pressing weight of abandonment on his shoulders day in and day out. Disappointed gazes- Techno, Phil, Tubbo, Wilbur- pressing into his back every. Single. D a y.
Exile, he figured, wouldn’t have been too bad had Dream not shown up to belittle him everyday, forcing him to burn his valuables, lest he get a sword punctured through his chest. However, two months in, he’s had enough.
No more shall he lay, wasting away, as Dream hounds him day after day with insults and demeaning remarks. No longer shall he stir in his anger when he can actually do something.
It’s time that “Tommyinnit” is laid to rest amongst the carcass of fire and ash, and a new form take his place.
It’s time to be reborn.