Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The cold always fascinated Tommy. His uncle survived perfectly in the weather, thriving in it. The ice and snow seemed to welcome him and it seemed like a match made in Aether.

Right now, however, Tommy wished the gods were as merciful to him as they were Techno. Techno had always warned him of frostbite, for the Procyon hybrid’s mature fluff had yet to fully form. So, when he had gotten caught up in the blizzard (Breath panting, blood dripping from a slash on his arm that had clear intentions of being more fatal, tears in his eyes and only one thought repeated in his mind: Techno. Techno. Techno. Tommy didn’t know if it was the voices or him at this point and he didn’t care.) his hackles were raised and he drew the flea bitten sweater he snatched closer to himself, cursing the sight of his already bluing hands. The voices, apparently, had other ideas.

-Come on, little one. You deserve a rest.-

+Yeah!!! Comfortinnit+

+There’s a good cove right there.+

/Green bitch boy won’t follow us here./

^Fuckers afraid of missing his yearly bl-^

-SILENCE. Go curl up Theseus. We’ll wake you up if we sense danger-

Welp…. It's a bit hard to argue with that logic…

Besides… Tommy had started to feel all warm. Somewhere in his exhaustion addled mind he remembered the faint smell of chocolate. Damn… What he would do for some of Niki’s fudge.

And that’s how, presumably, Technoblade found him. At least according to Tangerine and Clementine soothing a panicked TommyInnit when he awoke swathed in furs and feeling like he just got the worst brain freeze and his ability to touch was severely hampered. Tangerine and Clementine were the two most… ‘adult’ voices Tommy had. But when your competition was Seville and Mandarin, you didn’t exactly have a ton of competition.

That whole thought process stopped when his uncle walked in.

A hulking six-foot eight giant with the muscle to show for it, the scars were just benefits. Who knew this self-proclaimed Blood God was such a dork. And socially awkward.

Of course, Tommy inherited the socially awkward gene through osmosis, his still half delirious mind concluded.

“Are you doing better, Thes?”

Tommy had to compute his brain for a few seconds. Technoblade. Mr. hurr durr look at me I’m the Blood God. Mr. too constipated in his own angst and Philza’s favoritism to pay attention to his nephew was asking him if he was doing better.

^Dick^

/I don’t know why you’re attached to him, Toms/

+Hush Seville, do you really want Tommy to panic and self-destruct more? And you be quiet Mandarin. You forget how much Techno means to him.+

-Tangerine’s right. Just focus on breathing for me, Theseus. Let him help you. None of us trust his chat but we can tell he means well.-

“Hullo? Are you spacing out on me, Theseus?”

Technoblade’s voice popped him out of the inside of his head and instantly wished he could go back. This house was… nice. But everything felt wrong. Why did he even consider coming here…?

“We’re- We’re decent, fucker,” Tommy sneered at the end. He knew he couldn’t take his uncle on in a face-to-face fight so he’d have to rely on him being annoying though as he moved and unraveled the furs, he pulled at his arm -more specifically the stitches- and immediately hissed in pain, “Fuck!”

A worried chuff was the only warning Tommy got before his…uncle? Sworn enemy? Picked him up, almost on instinct. Tommy hissed as he was carried into what he could assume was a kitchen and sat down, angry small chitters leaving him before he could stop them. All he got was Techno chuffing at him again as the piglin hybrid grabbed a med kit from a cabinet.

Alright, fine then. With the voices backing his thoughts (Mainly just Seville and Mandarin) he decided to do what he did best. Be an annoying little shit.

Except his throat was sore as hell and he knew he would be having to answer his uncle's questions in due time. He had already fucked up and used his usual pronouns. It just felt instinctual. Dream didn’t care so it became a habit to reference himself alongside the voices. He felt Techno’s eyes on him as Tommy started to mess with the tablecloth. It felt… nice. His hands were still recovering from…

From what…?

Tommy knew frostbite was maybe a factor but there were scars on the pads of his hands that frostbite couldn’t make.

-You blocked it out, Tommy. It’ll come back to you once your brain figures you’ve healed enough and your mental and emotional state are better. Don’t try and think about it too hard.-

^It gives all of us migraines when you do.^

-Seville what have I said about shutting the fuck up?-

^It’s true though! Theseus, you ain’t going to heal if you keep trying to figure out shit way too fast. Don’t pull a me and live in the fast lane. Can’t believe I’m being the responsible one here but listen to your uncle. He can provide you-all of us- shelter.^

Tommy nodded. There were these rare few times the voice’s seemed… human. Almost. Like they had a life before being his Chat. He should probably be a bit more worried over it but with Techno staring him down and only now registering in his brain that Techno was asking him something did he tune back in and leave that question for another day.

“-And you keep spacing off. Did you hit your head before I found your half-frozen ass?” Technoblade huffed, displeasure and worry in his eyes that Tommy could spot from a mile away.

Tommy just hummed, shaking his head. He could hear the soft frustration in his growl but Tommy really couldn’t care at this point. He was just tired. And hungry…

A hand on his shoulder spooked him, a loud hiss leaving him that caused his uncle to simply huff and grab Tommy’s arm. He motioned to the med kit he placed on the table and in response, Tommy’s fur settled down and he allowed Techno to work on the reopened wound. That wasn’t without some scolding from Technoblade. It wasn’t the loud, in your face scolding he was used to by Dream or Philza. No, this one was simply made of quiet disappointment in the boy. And that made his skin crawl.

Tommy hated silence. It was common knowledge. He hates many things but he hated silence most of all. Silence was what you heard before everything went to shit. Before the hiss of TNT sounded true. Before your brother’s insanity took him over and he exploded your nation- and went and got himself killed by your father. Silence was what he heard before his life was ripped to shreds and he couldn’t do anything about it. Tommy hated silence. Normally he would chitter to himself, but during Pogtopia Wilbur’s aggression had been on a tight trigger. It just worsened during his exile. Dream’s abuse still made the boy shake, no matter how safe(?) he was. It wasn’t until he felt a comforting rumble did he realize that Techno was purring, and his own hands were shaking.

Techno never purred. Maybe when Tommy was a kid, maybe when Tommy wasn’t such a fuckup (-Tommy- He could hear Clementine growl in warning. All of them hated when he went on his self-deprecating tangents), but he stopped once he and Philza started to travel to other servers. Techno. Never. Purred. Only chuffed at Wilbur a little bit during Pogtopia and even then he mainly turned a blind eye once Wilbur started to go off the deep end. Even during Pogtopia, Technoblade avoided him. Growled. Turned a blind eye at the obvious manipulation. He guessed he never slept soundly when Tommy fucked something up and Wilbur’s aggression turned onto him. The ravine did truly have wonderful acoustics. Tommy wished he had found out another way instead of seeing his own blood spilt on the rock.

But here he was, purring. A bit forced, Tommy could tell, but purring all the same. It… comforted him. It reminded the young boy of better times. When it was just him, Fundy, and Wilbur. Tommy and Fundy chittering and playing, while Wilbur purred and chittered alongside them. A song, Tommy couldn’t remember which one, distantly coming from the jukebox. Without thinking he buried his face into Techno’s fluffy coat, the fur soft enough to let the boy think he was young again and still safe, protected in the nest Philza meticulously made and protected though Techno seemed to have contributed just as much. The nest was always adorned with some piglin gold or jewels and Tommy could faintly remember a low, baritone purring as his fur was preened. He felt Techno stiffen for a second before letting his nephew bury his face into the fluff, one hand nervously coming up to pat at his head. Emotions and comfort were never Techno’s good spot, Tommy knew that but at least this was better than being yelled at.

/Aww the anarchist can be soft! How cute./

-I have to agree with you on this one Mandarin. I had hopes he would get his ass in gear and actually be a decent uncle but this is better than what I could have ever imagined.-

+Softiniit… Tommy needs someone to look after him and we can only do so much. This is a favorable outcome.+

^Ooooo... Tangerine using their Sophisticated Voice!^

+I will bite you Seville.+

Tommy let out a quiet purr to match his uncle's deeper baritone one. He was used to the voices talking amongst each other, like he couldn’t hear them. He was okay with it. He was warm, safe, and comfortable. It made the hybrid side of his brain happy beyond belief. Now, he just wished to be held. Everything had been so exhausting the past few days and Tommy had started to feel the severity of his wounds. A nap sounded amazing right now.

“You falling asleep on me, Thes?” He faintly heard Techno ask. He simply nodded into the fur, not even having the energy to vocalize anything. He felt Techno chuckle and move to pick him up, careful of his ears and tail. Tommy didn’t mind. All his brain was saying was to nap. The voices agreed.

“Everyone is warming up to you.” Tommy sleepily spoke as Techno carried him up the stairs, careful not to bang his nephew’s head on the railing.

Techno looked at him with a quizzical look and Tommy was far too gone to even remember that he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about the voices, “Everyone!” Tommy motioned towards his head with a sleepy smile “Mandarin doesn’t trust you still but everyone is starting to warm up to you! Isn’t it like with your chat?”

If Tommy wasn’t so sleep deprived, he would’ve felt Techno’s hold grow tighter and would’ve seen the look of inching horror on his uncle’s face. Instead, he curled up the minute he felt a mattress and covers, chittering out a quiet goodnight to his uncle before promptly falling asleep.

As Techno stood in the frame of the door, he had to remind himself to keep breathing. Tommy wasn’t supposed to have voices. His baby shouldn’t have voices. That isn’t something he should’ve inherited... Can voices even be inherited? As his gaze turned towards Tommy, he felt the usual crushing grief in his heart. Chat wasn’t helping either.

//Tommy has a fucking chat lets gooooooooo

E E E E E E E E

POGGGGGERRRRSSSS

Babyblade! Babyblade!

Baby blood god!!!!!!

We have to start making him his own cloak

Technoprotect

Babyinit

Should we tell him the truth?//

The last one made Technoblade stop as he was walking down the stairs, gripping the railing to where he could feel the wood start to splinter in his iron grip. The thought unnerved him. He gave up the idea of ever letting his son know his true parentage once the boy reached the age where he could talk and yet… He unlatched from the railing and looked at his clawed hands. These hands weren’t meant to raise a child. His claws were meant to shred flesh and draw blood, not rock a child to sleep or teach them how to survive.

Techno needed Philza’s input. But… he didn’t want to leave his cub alone. It was selfish of him, he thought. He had so easily turned the other way during the shit Tommy went through, simply because the voices didn’t let him care. Only when he became self-destructive did they relent and start to grow affectionate for their host’s child. But by then it was too late. His cub was exiled and it was only a sliver of luck did he find his cub curled up in the snow. The sight still made his vision run red at the thought. Worry and guilt ate at Techno before he finally huffed and brought out his communicator:

Technoblade: We need to talk. My house.

Ph1LzA: alright m8. Give me a few hours.

Chapter Text

Technoblade always had a peculiar response to emotional distress. When he was younger, it was going out and searching for blood, covering up his emotional turmoil by making others experience more pain than him. As he had settled down in the Dream SMP though, he gained other habits. One was pacing until he got fed up. The repeated motion of it let him think out whatever was in his mind and didn’t require much motor function or higher thought.

So, Technoblade paced.

And paced.

And paced.

It did nothing for him.

His mind was racing. On one hand, he was elated he had found his kit, his baby. On the other, he was angered, furious, wanting to fuel the urge to find Dream and rip out his esophagus. And yet, a tinier part of his mind he was much more included to follow was worried. He had asked for Phil to meet him without even thinking of the blizzard, his kit had a pretty nasty wound that smelled to be infected plus the frostbite on his hands seemed to be some level of severe, and he was constantly on high alert as he gained more intel of rising anger and unrest in Manburg.

And so, he paced.

The voices, however, didn’t let him rest. They never let him rest.

//Dadza Dadza Dadza

Killza is coming

You better watch out you better out yOU BETTER WATCH OUT

is toms okay we haven’t seen him all day

Oh fuck the all-lowercase bitch is back

Shut up babyinnit tiem

SEEK THE CHILD//

Technoblade was never one to agree with his chat but... they did have a point. He had set Theseus to bed only four hours ago and his anxiety was getting the better of him. Besides, he was wearing a Techno Pace Line into the wood again. As he exited his library, his mind was still running. Now that his child was back, would he grow more protective? As a piglin, the children were sacred and his people talked like everyone had a built-in nature to protect them. The voices surprised his he presumed. Would Theseus gain his tertiary hybrid characteristics? His kit never had enough time to fully bond with him so there may still be some genetics that are suppressed…

//And he gained a chat.//

“Shut up.” He growled aloud, gripping the railings as he walked up.

Technoblade didn’t want to think about his kit having a chat, how violent it may be. It may have just been a slip of the tongue but when Theseus had spoken, he had referred to himself as ‘we’… The piglin didn’t want to get his hopes up, experience had shown him it was for naught, but he hoped that his kit had integrated peacefully with his chat and hadn’t followed in Technoblade’s own violent past he had with his own chat. As he reached the final step, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Panic could come later. Now, he was allowed to indulge in the parental instincts he had pushed down.

The first thing Technoblade noticed when he opened the door was that it was hot. Hotter than when he left it. As he walked to the side where he had laid Theseus down, the covers seemed disheveled and teared, almost in a frantic haze. A lump under the covers told Technoblade exactly where his child was but he wasn’t prepared for the stench of illness to assault his senses when he lifted the cover.

Shit. Theseus’s wounds were infected. And apparently, his kit was feverish, for the minute Technoblade grabbed the cover and lifted it, his child’s hazy eyes were on him. Technoblade always adored his kit’s eyes. Red and gold. Red like his own albino eyes and gold like the precious metal his culture worshipped. It unnerved him to see his kit sick though, anger and worry bubbling up in his system. The piglin hybrid had no idea how to deal with fevers, how own body temperature being too high to ever experience one. Maybe he had a book on it in the library?

All thought process stopped however when he felt pressure on his wings. Huh. The piglin hybrid always forgot he had wings. One of those things he forgot about until they were crucial to him and only served as a hindrance in the Nether and a huge, glaringly obvious limb that screamed that he was a hybrid-if his albinism didn’t showcase that already. But what drew him in was a small claw-no, Theseus had large claws. He had inherited them. Compared to his wing though, they were tiny- clutching Technoblade’s longest primary feather. Theseus looked so frail.

//Protect him

Comfortinnit

Hold the kit!!!!!!

make him some soup dumbass

Quiet all lowercase

Wait, no, they have a point//

Technoblade huffed and scooped up his kit, chuffing in order to calm his mind. Theseus immediately relaxed in his hold, which made the piglin nervous. Theseus never enjoyed being held, even as a kit. He enjoyed being scruffed and held like that or climbing in between Technoblade’s large wings and clinging to him. It just made Technoblade mind race more. Bringing Theseus down and into the living room, he gently laid his kit down and sped into the kitchen, huffing. Theseus liked fish, right? His kit always ate it when he was younger… Opening his icebox, he pulled out some salmon he had caught and placed them onto the counter. The scales would give his kit incentive to eat hopefully and the bones would add flavor. Turning on his heel with a pot he had fished out of his cabinets.

Seeing his kit curled up, he placed the pot down and grabbed a throw cover, gently burritoing his kit and placed a pillow he used for reading underneath Theseus’s head. Technoblade didn’t know if he could smell anything in his state but hopefully his scent would calm him down… As Technoblade picked up the pot again, he stopped, as he realized how damn unusual this was for him. He, Technoblade, THE Blood God and unspoken god of 2b2t, was making soup for some teenager he was the father too. He had killed for less.

//Shut up and take care of our damn child//

Technoblade huffed. He could overanalyze how sharp of a personality change he made in the presence of his sick kit later. Continuing on with his quest, he drew a breath and clasped his cloak on. Braving the blizzard outside, he scooped some snow up as the frost nipped his nose and ears and quickly went back inside, shaking off the snow and his cloak. Lighting the oven and placing the pot on the top, Technoblade grabbed some dried rosemary he had hanging from the cupboards and opened his seasoning cabinet, grabbing the jar lemon pepper. Quickly using his claws to slice the fish and place it on a cutting board (Forcing himself to not think about how easy it would be if he accidentally let go of Theseus and hurt him or worse, took his last life) he then mixed the rosemary and lemon pepper using a mortar and pestle. Patting it onto the fish, he grabbed it and placed it into the now boiling water. Technoblade knew it would be a good minute or so before it was ready so he took the time to check back up on his kit.

Out like a light.

A small creeped onto the piglin’s face and he was instantly bombarded with a distinct memory.

Theseus, still young enough to not talk but enough to make his chittering heard, was pressed up against his father’s back feathers, chittering in order to get his attention. Even at a young age, the boy wanted to touch everything and that day, Technoblade’s tusks were the object of his fascination. Once Techno had actually reached around and pried the kit from biting his secondary feathers, Theseus had instantly grabbed one of Technoblade’s tusks. His hand couldn’t even fit around it. It was one of the only good memories Technoblade still had. The scent of rosemary filling the house snapped him out of his stupor, however and he quickly went to grab some chilled peas and already cut-up potato he had. A few more minutes of waiting and he moved the pot to an unheated stovetop, blowing out the fire underneath and grabbing a two bowls from the cupboard. As he moved to grab a ladle from one of the drawers, soft shuffling and a click of claws on stone caught his attention. A still very sick and out-of-it Theseus shuffled into the kitchen, apparently following his nose. A soft purr left Technoblade before he could stop it as he walked over to the sick boy, nudging Theseus’s shoulder with his wing.

“Go back to the couch, Theseus. I’ll bring you some soup in a second.”

An angered chitter was all Techno got for his trouble so, he did the best next thing. His kit was always smaller than him so he simply grabbed the back of the green bandanna he wore (Didn’t he see that damn president wear that last time? Technoblade could still smell a lingering scent of honey… Eh, another problem for another time) and picked him up. The reaction was almost instant. The chittering stopped and Theseus relaxed, letting Techno carry him back to the couch, set him up sitting, and burrito him again with the cover.
Walking back into the kitchen and finally getting the ladle without any interjections from his kit, he poured himself and Tommy a bowl each of the soup and fished out two spoons. Walking back into the sitting room, he handed the soup to Theseus, who looked it over many times. As Technoblade sat, Theseus sniffed it and glanced up at him. Technoblade had to suppress a comfort chuff that rose in his throat, surprising even himself.

“Is this washed? We only like it when it’s washed.” Theseus croaked out; his ears flat across his head

Technoblade had to process that sentence for a second… Washed? What did he mean by- Oh. Wait. Raccoon hybrid. “Yes, Theseus. The fish is washed and the water came from the snow outside.”

Theseus let out a small, pleased chitter before his face fixed in a peculiar way as he seemed to struggle in focusing his eyes, “Both you and Clementine call us- well me she calls the others by their names- Theseus. Why? Clementine won’t tell us. Not even the others.”

Technoblade’s stomach felt like it was ripped out of his stomach. Fuck. Shit. This was bad. This was really bad. Technoblade never heard of instances where the host had not only a main voice but one where it could keep secrets. Fuck, he needed Phil’s advice. Not wanting to distress the hybrid more, Techno simply shook his head, reaching over and pushing the soup closer to Theseus before taking a sip out of his own. Fuck, he forgot he hated fish. Still, his kit seemed to enjoy the soup, seeing how he swallowed it down, so he struggled through it. After Theseus said that he didn’t want any more soup (After three whole damn bowls, which made Technoblade smile a bit. An appetite to rival his own he guessed but he seriously needed to give the hybrid some protein and vitamins.), he took both of their bowls and put them into the wash bin to clean after the blizzard had let up. Grabbing the now half emptied pot, he heaved the entirety of it towards his icebox and made room for it. No matter how much he despised the flavor, he was aware how picky his kit could be and he didn’t want to take the chance.

After Technoblade dried his hands with a towel, he moved the curtains to his main kitchen window, faintly hoping to see the sun, hoping the blizzard would let up.

Nope.

Only green.

Wait… Green?

A green-clad figure struggling through the blizzard next to a being who was two-toned, the smaller one wrapping both of them in his wings.

Relief filled Technoblade’s body as he saw the two, final. Help was finally coming.

As he looked harder, however, he saw a flicker of a much lighter green piercing the snow, yards behind Philza and Ranboo. As he focused harder, he saw what he was dreading.

A porcelain white mask, fully blended with the snow assaulting the tundra, with the eerie, unblinking smile on it.

Technoblade could already smell the blood that he knew was approaching him and his home

Chapter Text

Philza had always been a source of comfort for Technoblade. When he was younger, the avian hybrid had given him a home and taught him how to fly. When he was older, Philza had opened his home for Techno when he had come stumbling to his front door, a young and sick Theseus in his arms. Philza had taken in Theseus as his own once Techno confessed the voices would not let him keep his own child, considered his kit a hinderance. And now, Philza was there for him. Trudged through a damn BLIZZARD for Techno. Philza was always there for him and even now Techno feared that one day it would be the death of him.

“Techno? You okay, lad?” Philza shocked Techno out of his worrying state, a gentle wing covering his own.

Techno nodded before shambling towards the couch, picking up a now asleep Theseus which forced a surprised yip from Ranboo. Techno did not know why Philza had brought along the youngest member of his surviving flock but he honestly couldn’t care less. Ranboo obviously made Philza happy so the piglin hybrid didn’t care one way or another. Technoblade started to move up the stairs before Philza stopped him, giving the hybrid a look that made non-existent sweat prick at his neck.

“Ranboo, please take Tommy up to Techno’s room and stay there with him. Techno and I need to have a talk.” Philza told Ranboo, though Techno could tell it was directed at him.

The ender nodded, nervously taking Theseus from Techno (Technoblade suppressed a feral growl in his throat. He trusted the hybrid, yes, but he did not trust them to carry Theseus. One glare from Philza though made him quiet). Once the hybrid was up the stairs, Philza laid a hand on Techno’s back, silently guiding him to the couch as the avian hybrid sat on the chair.

“Where’d you find him?” Philza’s question surprised him. No, ‘Is Th-Tommy (Philza always called him Tommy- Techno understood but it still made him… mad?) okay?’ or anything. But that was just how Philza was, Techno had to remind himself. He was the exact same way. He just had to remind himself that being around his kit made him act different, as terrifying the thought was.

“Middle of the blizzard, was actually just cleaning up when you-” Techno trailed off before panic spiked his heartrate, the hybrid springing up from the couch as he practically ran to the window and ripped open the curtain, as he could hear a confused Philza ask him what the hell overtook him. Nothing. He just stared at pure white. No lime green to be seen. Had he hallucinated it? No, Techno never hallucinated. Fuck. Techno couldn’t fucking THINK. He was never one to get overstimulated or close to breaking down but at that moment he felt his chest constrict and his throat start to close up, only barley feeling Philza guide him to the couch again. A couple of minutes passed as Technoblade regained his breath though a stone still laid heavy in his gut.

“I- I thought I saw Dream.” Technoblade said quietly, “I… I just got back my kit, Phil. The voices- the voices are quiet now. They accept him. But…”

The entire time Techno had spoken, Phil watched him intently, an unreadable look on his face. The piglin hybrid didn’t enjoy that look, it made his wings ruffle even more as Phil stared him down. Techno shuffled as the air grew thick and uncomfortable, to the point where he just couldn’t take it anymore, the stress and anxiety finally catching up to him.

“Why do you keep STARING at me Phil? I asked you for your help but if you’re not going to give it, I’m going to take care of MY kit!” Technoblade growled, his voiced raised. He was never one for words but… Fuck he hated the unblinking stare Phil gave him. As he went to stand, a strong hand grabbed his arm and all he was met with was Phil’s pissed off look. Shit. The piglin knew from experience that a pissed off Phil was dangerous, was more prone to recklessness and his murder of crows influencing him to spill blood.

“Sit.”

The command (It was a command. A command that Techno knew better to comply to than resist. Techno may be a close friend but he had to remind himself that Philza was more alike to his murder than anybody gave him credit for. The normally placid look he had hid razor-sharp teeth that Techno witness tearing out the throats of one-to-many allies. Philza was kind, yes, but his aggression was on a hair trigger.) rang through the air as Techno and Phil stared each other down before Techno shuffled back and sat on the couch. A few seconds passed before Philza spoke.

“The voices accept him?” Phil said, almost to himself but Technoblade nodded anyway.

“Then it’s as simple as that. They accept him, and it looks like you do to. I can show you how to make a potion to keep him healthy but…” Philza chewed his lip before fixing Techno with a stare that the piglin swore was locking him in place, “What’s the true reason you called for me, Technoblade? I understand that instincts can flare up but-”

“Theseus has a chat.” Techno cut him off, tearing his eyes away from Philza as his ears picked up an almost inaudible gasp from the avian.

“By the stars…” Philza trailed off before speaking again, “Are they violent?” When Techno shook his head, an even more confused look crossed Philza’s face, “Well, what do you know about them, lad?”

Techno took a breath before starting, “Theseus refers to himself using plural pronouns now, from the times he’s spoken to me, like ‘we’ and ‘us’, there’s a central voice apparently and their name is Clementine, and they’re able to keep secrets from the other ones. Theseus also told me the name of one other one, Mandarin, who, according to him, doesn’t like me,” As he took a breath, the piglin hybrid looked towards the stairs, an uncharacteristically look of worry on his face, “I’m… I’m nervous, Philza. I just got my kit back for fucks sake and he’s already sick! Every time I see him all I can see is how he looked during Doomsday, how the voices screamed for blood,” During some point in his rant, Techno had gotten up and started to pace, “Every time I see him Phil I’m reminded of when I couldn’t save him! When the voices didn’t LET me! And now he’s sick, his wound is probably infected and I…” Technoblade drug a claw through his half taken out braid, ignoring the pricks of pain, “I don’t know what to do, Phil! He probably still thinks I’m his damn uncle! And I don’t want that! I-” Technoblade let out a shaky breath as he sat back down on the couch, “I don’t know what I want Phil. All I know is that my kit is hurt, sick, and the next time I see Dream I’m ripping out his spinal cord.”

Philza let out a half-hearted chuckle at the last bit and reached a wing over to place it on Techno’s shoulder.

“Why not tell him once he’s healed, Techno? The little shit is smart and you’d be surprised how fucking easy it is for him to tell when someone is lying. It would do both of you good. You can start helping him train and both of you can bond now those little fuckers have quieted down.” Philza said as he stood, glancing outside the nearby window, “The blizzards stopped and I believe you have a kid to take care of. Ranboo probably wants to get back to their kid anyway.”

Techno nodded, still sitting on the couch as Philza traveled up the stairs to get Ranboo. Telling Theseus of his true parentage seemed… Technoblade sighed as he rubbed his temple. That day had already been long and the run was already setting and Technoblade could tell he needed a damn nap before he did anything. He had stood up as Philza and Ranboo walked down the stairs, having a small conversation. Before Techno could pass the two, Ranboo held out a hand, though said clawed hand shook with anxiety.

“Uh… Technoblade, umm… If it isn’t too much trouble, once Tommy gets better, can I visit? I- I owe a lot to him…” Ranboo trailed off as Techno watched his tail flick back and forth. Pure anxiety radiated off of the ender.

“Eh. Sure, why not. Thes didn’t bite off your fingers so he probably tolerates your presence.”

Ranboo perked up before letting out a small ‘thank you’ and practically booked it to Philza’s side. As they left, Technoblade let himself fantasize for a second the idea of Theseus running after him in the early morning, much like Ranboo to Philza, eager for a day filled with bonding. It was a nice thought though, Techno reminded himself that he had to make sure his kit survived before any bonding could be had. And you know… getting past all of the trauma. As Techno walked into his bedroom, letting out an amused chuff at the sight of black and white feathers on one side, his gaze drew towards his kit. Maybe… Maybe one day Techno would enjoy bonding with him. He allowed a small smile to grace his face before it promptly fell, and was replaced with inching horror filling his gut. On the little nightstand Techno had next to the bed, was a small porcelain mask with a drawn-on smile. A shaky breath left him as he lifted it up and read the little note under it.

‘Family reunions are so sweet. Tommy looks so like me though… You’d be surprised how far a child will go at a promise of a family. - :)’

Yep. Technoblade was going to slaughter the masked fucker next time he saw that stupid mask.

Chapter Text

The thing that wakes Tommy up from a dreamless sleep was, to his surprise, not the early morning sun nor the raging fever he recalled having, but his head ringing like a…

“Motherfucker!” Tommy groaned, sitting up in a…Bed. A bed. Huh. Guess Techno actually had a heart. The next thing he noticed was the source of his head ringing worse than church bells on Sunday.

+Why the hell should we listen to anything you fucking say??? Last time I fucking recalled all you do is joke around and do jacksh-+

^Listen you two faced wee cunt I’M just trying to fucking help! We’re ALL here for our fucking host! Just because I let him act like a fucking kid he never got to be is not my fucking fault!^

/Acting like a kid almost gets him fucking killed Seville! I don’t like agreeing with Tangerine but he’s almost 16!/

Ah. Fighting. Normally, Tommy would let them argue and bicker amongst themselves. The noise eased his nerves but his ringing head only got worse and he felt his agitation rise.

“Guys-”

+Now look at what y’all did! You fucking woke him up! Gooood job, greattttt job you fucking fo-+

{SILENCE!}

Tommy’s thoughts and agitation stopped once Mellohi’s voice rang through his head. Shit, the three must’ve been at it for a good while if it had angered them of all people. Though, hearing their voice soothed some of Tommy’s nerves. Mellohi had appeared, alongside Cat, long before the Citrus gang, as the two voices had begun to call them, showed up. Even though the two mostly took the backseat on actually interacting with him nowadays, Mellohi’s stone cold voice eased his mind and gave him a fresh breath of familiarity.

{Good morning, Theseus. These three were just wrapping up. RIGHT?}

+/^Yes Mellohi^/+

{Good. Now, again, good morning Theseus. You’ve been out of it for two days but your fever has significantly lessened and your… familial unit stitched up your arm. I believe he is downstairs making something to eat. Go and see him, since I believe he has some things planned for today that will strengthen your maturing body back to prime state}

Yeah… Tommy didn’t miss their calculated approach to shit. He swore, metaphorically (and physically) as he got up, that Clementine got some of their views from Mellohi.

[Tell him we said hiya!!!!!!!]

Chuckling as his head grew silent again, well as silent as it could be, Tommy got up and stretched, humming as he looked towards his left arm. Yep. New bandages had been wrapped around said arm and tightly. Making quick work of walking out of the room and into the hallway, he took a second to breath. Being this… domestic wasn’t normal for him. Hadn’t BEEN normal to him for many years. The last time he could recall waking up and eating breakfast, like he was apart of a normal family that didn’t involve a ton of traumatize people. Was… Shit… Maybe L’manburg? He never ate breakfast but Nikki always ate brunch with him, practically forcing the boy to take a break and sit down, giving him a chance to ramble about his future projects. Damn…

[No use in compilating the past, little one. Go eat. You’ll feel better after you’ve gotten something filling into your system]

Heh… Cat was always more caring for him than Mellohi. But they were right. Food time. As much as the anxiety of facing Technoblade ate at his mind, the growing pings of pain at his stomach made him go down the stairs two at a time. He briefly remembered passing out on the couch but now seeing Technoblade’s living room was… surreal to say the least. The racoon hybrid never expected to be close to his uncle again, especially after November 16th but… here he was. His nose guided him to the kitchen where he stood almost in the doorway, taking in the sight with a muted sense of amusement. His uncle was hunched over the stove, stirring Prime knows what, with the faint smell of rosemary surrounding the space. It made him chuckle.

“Hey bit-” FUCK. His throat was sore as hell.

His uncle, himself suppressing a shiver of fear as the piglin hybrid drew to his full height, looked over at him, an uncharacteristic look of worry in his eyes. It made Tommy scoff inwardly.

“Bitch, what the fuck are you looking at us like that for?” Tommy croaked out. In reality, the look unnerved him. He… had forgotten how it felt to be worried after. Well, physically at least. The voices never STOPPED worrying about him.

Technoblade just huffed and strode over to the hybrid, the two sharing an unbroken stare before Techno handed him a glass filled with… something that was on the counter. As Tommy held it, Technoblade walked back over to the pot he was stirring.

“Drink, Theseus. You haven’t used your vocal cords in a few days. It’ll take some time to get used to your usual rambling.” Technoblade said, Tommy having to strain his ears in order to hear him better. He guessed Wilbur got the ‘Quiet until pissed off’ habit from Technoblade. Still, he sniffed the cup, subconsciously tilting his head as he swirled the drink, watching little swirls of pink and rose gold blend together.

“It’s a regeneration potion, Theseus.”

“Why not healing?”

Tommy saw his uncle’s head dip down to taste the soup off a ladle before replying, “A healing potion will scar up your throat. This is why you shouldn’t ingest it if its not a dire situation and just rule of thumb don’t use a healing potion unless absolutely necessary. It heals immediately, yes, but the scar tissue with just lead to more problems in the future, more so if it’s internal. Regen potions will help sooth the pain, get liquid into your body, and, once digested, will give your body a little boost to its blood cells that will help with healing,” Technoblade explained, waving a clawed hand briefly towards a rack with potions on it, “I did have to use a healing potion on your arm however so in a month or so you’ll probably have to pick off excess scar tissue that’s flaking off. I’ll give you something to numb the pain though, once that happens.”

Tommy had to hold in a laugh. Technoblade was rambling. Tommy guessed the piglin hybrid was as nervous of being in close proximity as he was.

“Alright… We like your words magic man.” Tommy chuckled, earning him an amused huff from Technoblade before sipping the potion, his two top (and honestly overgrown) canines tapping the glass instinctually as he let the liquid hit his tongue. Huh. It tasted like strawberries. Eh, if Technoblade wanted to kill him he guessed he’d already be dead so he quickly downed the rest of the potion, letting out a pleased chirp at the burst of flavor that Technoblade immediately responded with a subconscious trill of his own. And almost instantly stiffened before fixing Tommy with a halfhearted glare and puffed-up wings.

“Not. A. Word.”

That conjoined with the fact that Tommy never heard Technoblade ever trill drew a borderline hysterical laughing fit from him, by the end clutching his knee with his good arm as he struggled to get breath into his lungs with a small smile on his face. He… He could get use to this. It felt nice to laugh again. Technoblade only let out an amused huff and motioned a claw towards a cabinet above him as he recovered, though didn’t say anything. Curiosity instantly peaked he opened the cabinet to find… bowls. Huh. Damn he was expecting something cool but… wait a minute. Oh, wait, yeah, Techno was making soup. Wait ugh… Techno? No, Technoblade always growled at him for using that shortened nickname during Pogtopia. Ugh he could feel himself slipping into a comfortable cozy mode that had only gotten him hurt in the past.

“Theseus?”

Wait shit yeah, the bowls. Letting out a tiny ‘sorry’ he grabbed two, handing them to Techno- Technoblade, who gave him a quizzical look before turning around and going to fill the two bowls. As if the piglin would feel the uncomfortable air, Technoblade spoke up.

“Your claws got bigger, Theseus. That’s good. Have you experienced any signs of your tertiary characteristics?”

“What the fuck is tert-e-airy?”

Technoblade huffed at him, handing him his bowl as he motioned towards the living room, “Tertiary. Meaning third in a sequence or level.”

Tommy huffed as he settled into the-holy shit this couch was soft as hell-couch, “Why the hell would we go through another hybrid puberty, bitch? You fucking forgotten that we’ve already gone through it? Wait, no, don’t tell us. Fucking… Are we gonna become half fucking bird?”

Tommy huffed as he sipped the soup… It tasted good. Glancing up, he raised an eyebrow at Technoblade’s hesitance.

“I-… Maybe. You’ll go through one soon.”

Damn, if that wasn’t fucking cryptic as hell, Tommy didn’t know what was.

“What are you, some fuckin magic 8-ball?”

Technoblade let out an amused chuff before drifting a wing over Tommy’s tail.

“Eat, problem child. We’ll talk more later.”

‘More later’ meant Tommy was fucking bored in the span of two hours of the six he had been awake. Early morning orange light soon bled into a calming afternoon baby blue and damn it frustrated Tommy. Even more so given all of his voices were QUIET. Tommy fucking hated silence. Dragging a claw over his now braided hair (“Your hair is all over the place, little one. Let me braid it.” Tommy refused to acknowledge how comforting it felt.), he grumbled once more. Technoblade was in another room doing Prime knows what so he was left, sitting on the couch. Fuck… What would Seville say…

Ah, yes! Do whatever the fuck he felt like!

With new profound energy he bounced up and creeped towards the front door, bent on going outside. When he watched Technoblade wash the bowls, he had gotten a glimpse of his barn and instantly he wanted to go and check it out. Creeping towards the door, he opened it, freezing up at the creaking it made and instantly bolted outside.

FUCK. THIS SHIT WAS FUCKING COLD.

Even through Tommy’s naturally higher body heat the snow felt freezing but, he had a goal and he wasn’t gonna stop now. He was at the barn’s door when he heard Technoblade call out his name. Shit. A flash of pink is all he saw bolt out the door when he slammed the barn door.

Almost instantly the comforting scent of hay filled his senses and he spotted the animal that had peaked his fascination. Yes! A real life moobloom! The animal lazily raised its head as Tommy approached, and simply let out a huff of air as he pet the fur on it’s back, being careful of the sedums sprouting off its back. Tommy was fascinated to put it lightly. He had only heard legends of mooblooms-save for Tubbo literally being a moobloom hybrid but even the thought of the other boy made his chest tighten-so seeing one in the flesh made him happy beyond relief.

“You’ve met Althea, huh?”

Technoblade’s voice spooked him and he turned to look at him, a sheepish look on his face. To his surprise, he found Technoblade amused as the pigling hybrid strode next to him, crouching down (Tommy forcing himself to not think of Philza when Technoblade spread his wings a little in order to stabilize himself.).

“I found her last winter, she was super skinny back then and I believe she got separated from her herd… Give me your hand, Thes.”

Tommy blinked at Technoblade’s open palm and slowly placed his hand in Technoblade’s larger ones. Technoblade gently pressed both of their hands against the moobloom’s stomach, Tommy jumping and pulling away when he felt movement, gaining an amused chuff from Technoblade.

“Heh, yep. Gonna have a calf around here soon.”

Tommy’s brain was still computing when the first thought came to his mind, Henry. He still missed the cow a lot, despite the damn thing being a fucking werido.

“Henry.”

“Heh?”

“When… when the calf is born can we call it Henry? Don’t fucking ask why we just like the name.”

Tommy jumped slightly when a clawed hand came to ruffle the top of his head, practically feeling the vibrations from Technoblade amused purring. Huh.

“Alright Thes. We’ll name it Henry. Really killing my theme of Greek names but I’ll let it slide.” Technoblade chuffed, an amused grin as he stood up.

“Oi, fuck you too bitch.” Tommy growled back but there wasn’t any heat behind it as he stood. He… enjoyed this. Banter soothed him.

Following Technoblade out of the barn, only after the pigling promised him he’d show him around on a later date, and back inside the house, Technoblade motioned towards the kitchen.

“Want to help me make lunch?”

Tommy only nodded as he followed Technoblade. Damn he needed to grow a lot more if he ever wanted to be taller than him. Hopping onto the counter using his one good arm, he watched Technoblade move around the kitchen with precision.

“Didn’t you say you were going to help me?”

“TECHNICALLY we never agreed to anything. But alright. Big man Tommy Theseus Danger Kraken Innit Minecraft is here to help!”

Technoblade only shook his head.

Ah, fuck him that was hilarious.

After eating a whole raw egg, shell and all, in front of Technoblade, Tommy was regulated to tea making duty. Eh, fuck him, Tommy was AMAZING at making tea and that egg tasted fucking great. Standing in front of all the ingredients though… Fuck he would already feel the anxiety and overstimulation prick at his mind. Fuck, of all the times he needed Clementine…

“Do you need help, Thes?”

“…Maybe…” Tommy muttered in a small voice. Being unable to do things frustrated him to no end and always half way expected Wilbur to come bursting in and make a joke at his expense. Fuck he needed to not think of Pogtopia before he had another damn emotional breakdown… Pressure on his hands snapped him back into reality and realized Technoblade was showing him how to put the leaves and everything into the bags and boil them. In the end, Tommy chose jasmine mixed with rosemary put it on boil, watching Technoblade go back to making lunch. With the scent swirling around his head, Tommy let himself relax and breath it in. Huh. Being around Technoblade just today made him remember lots of things he guessed.

This memory was splotchy and not as vibrant as the others he normally had but it was still nice. The exact same scent of rosemary and jasmine was in the air and he could tell he was probably young, pre- everything going to shit. Technoblade was there but… Damn that… that was strange. He couldn’t recall smelling Philza’s earthy and slightly off-putting scent (That he now knew was the scent of death) or Wilbur’s scent that always smelled that an old book nor Fundy’s, who always had a very distinct scent of the sea. Only Technoblade’s and his… And Philza was always around Technoblade or someone else was always in the same room as the two so…

“The teas boiling over.”

SHIT.

Taking it off the hot stovetop, Tommy chewed the inside of his cheek. That memory was… weird to say the least. Even the place didn’t smell like how the old house used to smell like… Fuck it, another memory for another confusing day. After being handed two cups and filling them with the sweet-smelling tea, Tommy followed Technoblade into the living room and plopped himself down onto the couch, handing Technoblade his drink after being handed a plateful of eggs and fish. Fuck yeah even salmon! Oh… Heh. Wilbur would’ve cursed him out for even mentioning eating salmon. No. NO. No thinking of Wilbur. He’s happy. We’re happy. Even if the others didn’t want to speak to him right now. He raised an eyebrow at Technoblade getting up without eating but shrugged it off as he dug into his food.

That was until he felt a very wet and cold nose nude his shoulder and was staring down a fucking…

“POLAR BEAR?! WHY THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE FUCKING POLAR BEARS… HOW THE HELL-”

“Shhh, Theseus. Steve likes to come in around the afternoon time. He’s pretty tame.” Technoblade said, scritching in between the polar bears ears like he did to Tommy.

The racoon hybrid still huffed and quickly went back to stuffing his face, forgetting how damn hungry he was. Damn he loved how eggs tasted. Maybe in the future he could snatch some berries and have himself a certified Tommy Breakfast (Patented AND copyrighted). He faintly acknowledged Steve laying his head on Tommy’s tail as he finished. Not… exactly having the bravery (Not that he would ever admit it to anybody else) to move the polar bear he hesitantly placed a hand on top of Steve’s head. Huh… Softer than he expected. THAT however did not prepare him for when Steve surged up and laid. Directly. On. Him.

“OI. WHAT THE FUCK MATE WE SWEAR-”

“HEH?!”

In the middle of two very confused hybrids (One was more panicked than anything), Steve just laid there, content. After trying (and failing) to move the polar bear, Technoblade threw his hands up in defeat, though having an amused look on his face.

“Guess Steve lives up to being an emotional support animal.”

And that’s where Tommy laid for a good chunk of the day. After getting over the initial panic, he had to admit the weight was nice and the heat from the polar bear helped him. The few times Tommy had to sit up or walk anywhere (Most times drinking the potions that Technoblade had given him), Steve was right on his heels, seemly only content when Technoblade and him were in the same room. But the minute he sat back down on the couch; Steve mostly laid on the floor but had his head in Tommy’s lap. Heh. This was nice, Tommy thought before he started to drift off. He was happy and he was safe. This was nice.

Chapter Text

Not an update but just a note! One, thank all of yall for the support!!! The support on this fic genuinely astounds me and im so happy yall like this fic! Second of all, I will probably update in aroud 5 to 6 days from now! Im so sorry to the delayed updates but a depressive episode hit and i want to produce the best chapters i can for yall!

Again ty for so much support and i hope all of yall have a wonderful day/night, safe travels, and happy pride month from your local genderfluid bastard (affectionate & derogatory).

(Im srry if any spelling errors are in this i normally write chapters on my computer but im writing this on a writing app on my phone akanananananan-)

Chapter Text

Hi! The author here! Not fully back yet however I AM working on chapter 5! That will come out in one or two days so look out for that! Again, thank all of yall for the encouraging words and the positive feedback!

This is where I start talking about the really triggering stuff so just in case if you're triggered by a person talking about pedophilia, the disregard for minors saftey and boundries (As i am a minor and the dsmp minor actors(I.e Tommyinnit, Tubbo, Ranboo, and Purpled)), "poppytwt" or however the hell you talk about the ppl who write literal porn about characters who are minors in the story and the actors are minors irl.

Okay! So. Never imagined I'd have to publicly say this but for shits and giggles i went through some of the ppl who bookmarked my fic and some of the kudos, which were normally vvry good! The Average Dsmp Found Family And TommyInnit Enjoyer! But just-

Let me preface this by saying I am not a very confrontational person. I hate conflict and I cry at any sign of conflict. But I am genuinely disgusted by people writing about FUCKING MINORS in an explicit sense, especially sexually engaging with others minors or worse, character adults.

I am a fucking minor and seeing this shit written about genuinely makes me fucking disgusted. I do not care if it a thing to "work through truama" if it is, Great! Dont fucking post it. If you are a person that writes that shit, keep it to your fucking self. In cases like that there is no "separating the actor from the character" when all the fucking characters are minors PLAYED BY FUCKING MINORS.

Tldr: Dont fucking interact with this fucking fic if you write problematic shit. If you knowingly post it you genuinely disgust me and i hope you get a piece of popcorn stuck in your teeth where you can never get it out and it annoys the hell out of you.

I hope this is coherent and put well I'm just genuinely disgusted by people like this and I dont exactly want people like that to even BREATH on my fic since that shit is immoral as hell and I'm a ~Minor~

Chapter Text

Ranboo was an interesting ender to Tommy. The ender dressed finely, had a gentle and anxious demeanor that had even his walled-off self feel endured by them, spoke highly of their son, he overall seemed like a nice person to Tommy. Everyone (practically everyone) in his head begged to differ however and for once in the time period he had them, he found himself conflicted whether or not to follow their word. Clementine was indifferent, Seville urged him to get closer to the ender, Mandarin was distrustful but they were distrustful of everyone, and Tangerine flat out disliked them.

It pissed him off to be frank.

Tommy shook his head. He didn’t need the added anxiety of pleasing everyone in his head right now. Ranboo had invited him to join him and his son to lunch and Tommy wasn’t about to turn down free lunch. Gripping the end of his bed (HIS bed now. It still felt weird to say. He took over a guest bedroom once he and everyone grew uncomfortable taking up Technoblade’s room, no matter how much his hybrid side enjoyed it.), he hoisted himself up, stumbling a bit. The one of the many shitty things he had to deal with pertaining to his health. Frostbite was a bitch and a half so now he was down two fingers on his right hand, the tips of his ears, some of his tail, and practically all of his left foot. It was practically hell relearning how to walk after losing a literal foot and even now he had a permanent limp. Not to mention the bitch that was his left arm. Technoblade wasn’t fucking lying when he said it was going to be a prick to flake off all the excess scar tissue but damn. At least it looked sick as hell.

-Praising looks later, start getting dressed little kit-

“Okay, mom.” He snarked back, quickly grabbing what he thought he needed to wear for the day to Ranboo’s. He smiled at the light red coat Technoblade had gifted him, with his usual air of, ‘I wore this as a kid and I don’t want it to go to waste’ type gruffness.

^Good job picking big man! I think the forest Ranboo lives in is cooler than most forests but better be safe than sorry^

+I don’t understand why the hell Theseus needs to go to their house. He can drag their tall ass over here if he wants to hang out so fooking badly+

Tommy could practically feel the harsh bark of laughter Seville let out as he pulled his iconic red and white shirt over his head.

^Cause fuckin’ comfortinnit that’s why you stuck up bastard. No offense kit but you seriously need to get out more. ^

/Green bitch boy is still hunting him probably tho,,, I’m all for comfortinnit but nasty dirty crime boy may vibe check our ass if we BREATH in his direction/

-Please for the love of Prime Mandarin please shut the fuck up you keep making up stranger and stranger names for that shitty admin-

/My dislike for that physical embodiment of wet sink food is immeasurable/

-I can feel myself aging and we don’t even have physical bodies anymore-

Tommy chuckled. Damn he missed this. It… slightly irritated him that this is what they decided to argue about but eh. Better than pure silence. And it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to his thoughts being chaotic and scattering. Though he severely didn’t feel like dealing with Tangerine’s ranting.

“All of y’all, shut or I’ll start referring to us using singular pronouns.”

+I severely doubt you could do handle that+

“You wanna test that theory?”

+Not exactly+

“Then shut. We’re going to Ranboo’s because he invited us and we wanna be good… uncles? Aunts? Thembls?”

-I don’t mind being referred to using the honorific uncle, despite being inclined to use feminine pronouns. What about the rest of y’all?-

^You really use 100 words when 10 would work, huh Clem? But eh I… really don’t care kid. Really up to you but uncle is fine^

+Don’t particularly mind it! Uncle or aunt works just fine.+

/Uncle has a nicer ring to it but isn’t Techie a literal walking dictionary? After today we should ask him if there’s a gender-neutral term/

-+^Agreed^+-

Tommy clapped his hand together after fixing on his shoes, a bright smile on his face.

“Alright! We’ll ask him after we come back from Ranboo’s!”

With that settled, Tommy quickly scampered out of the room. His uncle’s house always smelt nice; the hybrid had noticed. There wasn’t the sharp, smoky scent of L’manburg, it’s many wars still tainting it with smoke that messed with any hybrid’s senses, it wasn’t the dank, musty, and stale scent of Pogtopia, where it was always complimented by the sharp iron scent of blood or the slight earthy tang from the mildew, and it definitely wasn’t the hell of an exile he escaped from, miles away from the ocean and away from the saccharine rose scented cologne Dream wore for some unholy reason. It was just… Home.

Home was still a very unfamiliar word to Tommy but… He felt like he could get used to it. Speaking of home…

“Where you off too so early, little god?” Technoblade asked him from where he was sitting in the living room.

The nickname was still very new, something Techno… Technoblade had called him in the spur of the moment during sparing and it just… stuck. It felt nice being able to relate to someone again. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone outside of his head.

“Ranboo’s, big T! We got invited to have lunch and like hell are we going to turn down free food!”

Technoblade chuckled and put down the book he was reading, Tommy recognizing the book cover as Sun Tzu’s The Art of War. Huh. His uncle was always reading it.

“At least put up your hair beforehand.”

Tommy’s hand went up to his head, combing through the unruly mop that had become his hair. Personally, he thought it had charm. And he voiced as such. Technoblade still insisted, handing him one of his thick black hair ties. Grumbling with no real fire behind it, he put his hair up into a low ponytail and bonked his head into Technoblade’s shoulder, a habit he had yet to get rid of from his time with Tubbo. His uncle let out a chuff of amusement and ruffled his hair, before handing him a small dagger.

“Just in case.” The piglin hybrid muttered

Tommy nodded, though a shit-eating grin graced his face as he reached the door, “We thought the greatest victory was one that required no battle.”

Technoblade shook his head at the reference, “Shut, problem child and go. I’ll watch you until the tree line.”

Tommy nodded and quickly skipped out the door, yelling out a good bye to Technoblade before scampering off into the forest, coordinates to Ranboo’s mansion up on his communicator.

Halfway through, the environment changing drastically, Tommy decided to sit down and rest for a second, taking the time to check up on his body and make sure he wasn’t dying... Again. What still bothered him was his hands. Needle thin ugly scars formed words too warped to see on his hands and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he couldn’t remember what happened to them. Even he was above self-mutilation so he wouldn’t have had to been the one to fuck up his hands. Also, his hand writing was a lot sloppier. And he wasn’t ambidextrous, a lot less shitty at writing with his right than with his left. On both hands, no matter how warped, seemed to be on the same level of skill and precision. And it didn’t seem to be English nor the tiny bit of Spanish he knew from his brief time with Quackity.

^Don’t overthink it, kit. You’ll remember once the time is right,,, rn its comfortinnit tiem with the Tal Child^

“But-”

^Migraines Thes. We get migraines when you try and force a traumatic memory to come back when the time isn’t right. Just rest for a second then Ranboo’s house is a few minutes away.^

“What.” Tommy deadpanned

^You… I swear to Prime Thes you’re more air headed than Mandarin sometimes and that’s saying something. It’s early afternoon and if you keep walking the same direction you have been for the past hour and a half, Ranboo’s place is right on ahead^

“We- I keep forgetting you’re somewhat omnipresent.” Tommy replied, getting up from the tree stump he was sitting on.

^Mmm… Not quite. All in due time^

-When did YOU become the cryptic one?-

^Stealing your role bitch since you can’t do it right^

-I’m going to slaughter you one day-

^You do that^

Tommy chuckled as he passed a tree with huge claw marks up on the bark… Yeah this was around Ranboo’s place. The ender had explained to him, bashful, that ender were partially territorial beings. Be it over their haunting, home, a random block, ender were prone to gain an attachment and mark it as theirs. Which explained Ranboo’s gifts to Technoblade and Philza, a subtle marking of them as being apart of Ranboo’s haunting. And Tommy guessed this was their way to mark their…How did he put it? Territory. Yeah, territory.

Walking along the path, he took the time to analyze the trees around the mansion. More huge slashes covered the bark on many but some had little puffs of purple growing at the bases. Huh. Oh wait… yeah Ranboo had mentioned he enjoyed planting flowers. The purple puffballs-flowers? -increased as the mansion loomed over Tommy. Maybe if he had an ounce of self-preservation left, he would feel intimidated but all his hybrid side was yelling about was how it smelled like friends. And… yeah it did. Ranboo always had the distinct scent of rosemary surrounding him and he could practically smell it from the mansion.

“Tommy?”

Drawing a startled ‘vroop!’ from Ranboo, Tommy practically flung himself into Ranboo’s arms, clinging to them as he buried his face into the soft silk of Ranboo’s shirt as he purred. He could tell it took the ender a few moments to process but quickly arms and wings encased him, the ender’s own purring joining his own. He enjoyed this. His own rumbling stomach made Ranboo chuckle and pry him off though.

“Food time! Then we can vibe.” The ender purred, a bright smile on their face.

Tommy nodded and followed Ranboo inside the mansion, amazement sparking inside of him. In just this room alone it looked more finely decorated than anything Tommy had ever seen. Wait… How fucking rich was Ranboo?

“How fucking loaded are you, dude?”

“Oh…Uh…A lot?” Ranboo answered non committedly, shrugging his shoulders as they walked into the…kitchen? Yeah, this was definitely a kitchen, “Oh! Uhm…Can you go get Michael please? I had woken him up but I think he fell back asleep.”

Tommy nodded, “Alright! How the fuck do we get out of here?”

Ranboo chuckled a bit and motioned towards a door all the way across the other side of the room-it felt weird calling it a room when it was bigger than Technoblade’s whole house-that Tommy could faintly see splattering yellow paint on the door. Tommy nodded and made quick work walking over, taking his time to admire the décor. Gold laced the railings of the stairs he guessed went to the second floor and expensive looking carpets adorned the floor every so often. A huge tapestry was hung on the walls above what he guessed was Ranboo’s room, a huge eye of ender threaded into the cloth. Damn his friend was a sucker for decorations. Very good decorations. Being this close to the door now, he could see the name ‘Michael’ messily scrawled on the door in bright yellow, pink and green splotches of color on the door next to it, one tiny pink hoofprint and a larger green clawed one. Ranboo and Michael must’ve painted it.

Opening the door, Tommy was a bit shocked at the sharp contrast. Inside Michael’s room could best be defined as a controlled mess. Books about various…carnivorous plants? Damn that’s a new hyperfixation…littered the floor alongside picture books and coloring sheets. The whole room was painted a comforting dark red and Tommy quickly made his way over to where a huge bed lay in the corner of the room, making sure not to step on anything. The hybrid let out a small chirr as he gently shook awake the piglin.

“Hey big man, food time.” Tommy softly said, gently scooping up Michael as he walked back out the room, the tiny piglin choosing to bury his face more into Tommy’s ponytail.

Ranboo laughed as Tommy walked back into the kitchen, affectionately shaking their head at their son’s antics. Michael was a bit more awake when Tommy placed him on the floor and the piglin chittered at him, bonking his tusks against Tommy’s leg as if to communicate his displeasure at being woken up.

“Hey big man, you got to eat if you’re gonna get big and strong! Uhm… You know Techno, right? Technoblade? Big ol piglin in the tundra?”

Michael nodded his head as Tommy pointed towards Ranboo.

“He’s almost as big as your dad! And that’s because he ate all his food!”

Michael scrunched his nose at him… Shit… Uhm…

“Not his vegetables though!”

Nailed it.

A few couple of minutes that consisted of keeping Michael entertained passed and Ranboo handed him a plate with a sandwich and a few grapes on it. FUCK YES. As they all sat down to eat at a very ornate looking table, Tommy dug into his sandwich, letting out a happy trill at the taste. That sparked Michael to take a bite of his own sandwich and respond with his own happy piglin chuffs which, in turn, prompted Ranboo to start eating and join in with their own happy ender warbles. This was… really nice, Tommy had to admit. It reminded him of early morning preening sessions with Philza when he was a kit, where the house would be filled with gentle cooing and trilling as Philza took the time to brush out Tommy’s fur or late-night pantry raids with Fundy that ultimately always woke up Wilbur and he joined them in eating whatever strange food concoction they had made that night. This was good. Soon though, he grew restless, just sitting there. He was used to talking or doing something while he was eating so the blank white noise- save from the sounds of them eating or the tiny peeps from Michael every so often-started to eat away at his brain.

-Ask them about Manburg, about Tubbo-

^Do you WANT the poor kit to have ANOTHER breakdown, you apathetic-^

-We all need answers, Seville. Take the bundle of sticks out of your ass and realize that things aren’t all fucking sunshine and rainbows everywhere! We need intel on what’s going—

“Are you okay, Tommy?”

Tommy jumped a little, and nodded, “Yeah, umm… We were just talking to,” Motioning towards his head, “Everyone.”

“Ah, okay! Is it okay if I ask what you were talking about?”

Tommy stiffened but nodded, “Uhm, Clem wants to know if uh…everything is okay is L- Manburg. And uh… About Tubbo.”

Ranboo’s face softened, and let out a quite whistle, “Ah, that’s understandable. Slightly ironic too given Tubbo wants to meet Michael in Manburg,” Ranboo said, quickly backpedaling however as Tommy stiffened, “Nothing bad though! I just mentioned him so Tubbo wants to meet him!”

Ranboo continued after picking up Michael’s finished plate alongside his own, telling his son to go get dressed, “Manburg is… honestly it seems like it’s falling apart. I can tell Tubbo is stressed out of his mind, I don’t think people our age are supposed to have white fur already and… What hybrid is he?”

“Moobloom. Uhm… Lily of the valley variant but if we remember correctly if he’s stressed wither roses start to grow.”

“Ah… I have yet to see one lily on him. Are wither roses those black, spiky flowers that smell like somethings burn-”

“Rotting flesh is what you’re smelling.”

Ranboo stiffened, their wings puffing up, “Oh… Then yeah he’s… very stressed then.”

Tommy nodded, solemnly, shit. It hurt to think about the boy but he remembered the pain that wither roses caused Tubbo, many nights in Pogtopia holding the older boy as the hybrid cried at the pain it caused him. After Technoblade’s execution though… Tubbo never cried after that. Only during Tommy’s own exile announcement did he see Tubbo cry after that. Hopefully Puffy was helping him… She was the only living relative of Tubbo’s he knew of.

Actually…

“Do they still think that we’re in exile?”

Ranboo stiffened. Shit. “Oh… About that… Dream told them that you uh- you… died…”

A few awkward moments passed, Ranboo not meeting Tommy’s eyes.

“We’re going to pour lava down his throat.” Tommy growled darkly, drawing an anxious laugh from Ranboo, the ender shuffling and ruffling their wings.

“You uh… You do that! Uhm… On a brighter note, Fundy’s doing well! You’re related to him, right?”

“Um… Uncle maybe! Or… cousin? We… don’t exactly know but yeah! He’s… five years older than us? Five or four.”

“Ohh okay! Philza’s been staying at his house in Manburg and I think he and Fundy have been talking! Philza… sort of scares me so I’ve never joined Fundy when he visits but he always looks happier after he leaves so that’s a plus! Quackity also got engaged to Karl and Sapnap! Apparently, they’ve been dating for a while and never told anyone until after they all got engaged.”

Tommy nodded, Sapnap was a good arson buddy, and Quackity was a good friend. He… honestly had no clue who the hell Karl was but if Sapnap and Quackity liked them enough to get engaged, they probably weren’t a bad person. They all deserved to be happy. Fundy and Philza though… It was strange to Tommy. Philza had never been all that close to his grandkid but eh, at least they were getting along.

“Ah, I need to get dressed. Um… Feel free to look around! I won’t be long.”

Watching the ender scurry into their room, Tommy sat back and thought about it. Philza definitely knew he was alive so maybe… Yeah, he’ll make sure Fundy knew he was alive if he didn’t know already. Fundy… Fundy deserved that much. Their relationship was still a bit strained due to Schlatt’s dictatorship but in the end, Fundy was still family and still apart of his pack, no matter their past. It was wishful thinking, he knew that, but he could imagine late night raids on the kitchen, like how they did when they were younger. Older now and more confident in their identities, gone through hell and back, but still able to enjoy the small slice of childhood they got. Heh… Maybe Fundy could even give him some voice tips. His voice was okay, but it lacked Fundy’s range and sometimes Tommy just wanted to pull out an Ultra Deep Voice, just to make himself euphoric. Maybe he could steal some of Fundy’s old binders…

His daydreaming was cut short by two sharp little tusks ramming themselves into his leg, Michael peeping to get his attention. Letting out a small chuff of amusement, he got up, following the tiny piglin to where Ranboo was pinning an expensive looking eye of ender brooch onto his scarf that wrapped around his wings and neck. Yeah, Ranboo was fucking loaded.

“Ready Michael?”

The tiny piglin nodded before stopping and sprinting off towards his room, drawing an amused laugh from Ranboo.

“It seems we both forgot something.”

“We?”

Ranboo nodded and took something out of his pocket, a purple puffball Tommy recognized as the flowers growing outside.

“Uhm, was planning to give you this. It’s an allium. I enchanted it so it wont wilt so you don’t have to worry about damaging it.” Ranboo explained softly, reaching over and placing it in Tommy’s hair.

Tommy stood there, mind processing, “Oh… Are… Are we-”

Ranboo laughed lightly and drew Tommy into a hug, “Welcome to the Beloved haunting, brother.”

Tommy felt tears prick at his eyes, and could faintly hear everyone going CRAZY in his head but all he could pay attention to was the hug and being called brother. He tightly gripped Ranboo back, pressing his face into Ranboo’s shoulder as if that would stop the tears, the smile on his face practically hurting from how hard he was smiling. Brother… he hadn’t been called that in a long. LONG. Time. By the time Michael came back, Tommy had composed himself and couldn’t stop touching the allium, a smile practically plastered on his face. As he followed the two out the door and reached a fork in the road he didn’t see, he couldn’t stop marveling at the warmth that filled his whole body, like a warm soup Technoblade had made or the lava that bubbled and spit in the Nether. So much so that he didn’t hear Ranboo until after the ender shook his shoulder, a light smile on his face.

“I’ll visit with Philza later but you’re always welcome at our house, brother.”

Tommy nodded and hug Ranboo, the ender purring and curling his wings around Tommy before letting go so the hybrid could crouch down and hug Michael and bid the two farewell.

Holy shit this was a great fucking day.

Traveling along the path again, however, conversing with everyone (Mainly just Mandarin and Seville spamming RANFAMILY and RANBOO MY BELOVED over and over again), Tommy realized he was standing at the tree line that overlooked Techno’s house. Today… Was a really good day. Though, he had to admit, with a small amount of dread that was rising up inside of him, he worried it would end.

Theseus never had a happy ending but maybe… Maybe Tommy could fix that.

Chapter Text

Tommy remembered Pogtopia in meer flashes. Only those. Puffy said it was somethjng about blocking out trauma, Tommy thought it was just his brain shutting out the parts where he was the weakest.

One thing Tommy remembered vividly though was the Pit.

He had been so, so angry at Technoblade. He didn't care at that point the reasoning behind him being forced to kill Tubbo, he didn't care that the piglin hybrid was once his own brother.

He saw red.

He remembered what Technoblade had said to him in the Pit too.

"In this world, Tommy, there's only one universal language, and it's violence."

Tommy didn't know why he decided to ingrain that in his mind, take it heart much more than any lesson taught to him by Wilbur, Puffy, or the rare times Philza remembered he had a third son. Slightly ironic too, now that he thinks back on it. Tommy was always called the hero, the protagonist in the Dream SMP, despite everyone's apparent want to kill him. He was always supposed to be the good guy, always stick close to his morals.

But after the Pit? After Wilbur losing his shit and blowing up L'manburg? He had overheard Puffy say under her breath one session that Tommy felt like he was the soul of L'manburg. And Tommy had to agree. After Wilbur blew up the nation he and Tommy had spent so long to build up, Tommy himself giving so many sacrifices, Tommy could almost practically feel his empathy being ripped out of him.

As a child he remembered being a crybaby, always wanting the best for others, and panicking if anybody got hurt. He allowed Wilbur to let out his frustrations on him in Pogtopia, despite the younger always leaving with a busted nose and feeling like their fights were becoming a little too violent for his taste, as Wilbur's sword kept slashing closer and closer towards Tommy's neck or internal organs.

He gave. And gave. And gave.

And never got anything in return.

There was one singular person he enjoyed and loved, like he had one singular stable brother, and that was Tubbo. The last person making him hold onto the last of his empathy in a death grip, knowing how much Tubbo hated seeing him in pain and generally was happy and nice.

That small piece of empathy died after he had gotten exiled.

Tommy honestly had no idea what the hell happened to him in exile. Well, he knew, but mentally? He had no fucking clue. All he knew is that he was feeling betrayed and depressed. And he guessed he just... snapped. The word felt... right. Snapped. He knew when it happened, could pinpoint the exact moment too.

Dream was being a prick and demanding, for the last time, to have Tommy put his inventory and other stuff he had collected into a hole Dream had dug. In order to blow it up.

Again.

The cherry on top of the whole mental exhaustion and trauma that made Tommy lose his shit was Dream crooning that Tubbo was doing so well! He and that enderman guy he had set an (accidental) fire with were getting along so well! It seemed like he had been replaced!

By the love of Prime that had set Tommy off. He had gotten through most of his exile through wishful thinking that Tubbo was still waiting for him! That he was just too busy to come to his Beach Party! But... hearing that, hearing that Tubbo was supposedly doing better without him set him off.

Dream had been relaxed, watching Tommy with a cool air of smugness around him. His grip on the netherite axe he had in his hand was relaxed.

He always did forget that Tommy was the brother to Technoblade.

Everyone always forgot Tommy was a child soldier, being more capable of killing a man than anyone thought.

Dream was stronger than him, yes, but nothing could beat a half feral teen who had just lost all semblance of giving a shit about others.

Even now, walking through woods and snow and having one single destination in mind, with that trusty netherite axe he had renamed Dreamcatcher, he truly had no idea how it happened. Like Pogtopia, it came in flashes. All he knew was by the time his vision had cleared from red, Dream was long dead and his hands, clothes, and axe were drenched in blood.

It felt... nice, Tommy had to admit. He could guess that this is what Technoblade felt like when he satiated his chat's call for blood.

Not much longer after that did he meet Swirl. Or... what he called Swirl. He couldn't pronounce their actual name.

They were simply sitting next to his tent. Staring. Tommy didn't feel like burying Dream so he had just finished kicking the body into the sea. He had already turned off his comms, way too many private messages popping up asking him what the hell he did. His anxiety didn't like it. And there sat Swirl.

Their friendship at the start was... weird to put it lightly. Swirl was a dreamon, he knew that much from the stories Fundy told him of his own experiences with catching Dreamons but Swirl was... nice. Strange, but nice. They always stuck by him, most times in their usual form which was just a floating head with their swirl design and a too long poncho, but sometimes they would ride on Tommy's shoulder in a blob form, squeaking and chirping all the way, or even once what Tommy had deemed their "b e e g" form, which was taller than... Tommy really didn't know how to compare it too. They were just really fucking big. It was fun though, sitting on their shoulder. He liked being up that high and for once not getting the urge to jump off.

Tommy still felt general apathy towards everything now but Swirl... Swirl was nice. Swirl reminded him of Tubbo, before everything. Swirl was there for him. Swirl... Swirl was family.

It still felt hilarious to Tommy to see his older brother's horrified face. Technoblade had been always so adamant about never showing emotion but he guessed that when your youngest brother shows up at your doorstep, with a Dreamon on his shoulder and a netherite axe belonging to your lifelong friendly rival, yeah emotions were allowed to be shown.

Tommy smiled over his shoulder as he fell backwards on the couch, making himself comfortable.

He felt pride at seeing Technoblade suppress a shutter at the shark-like grin on Tommy's face.

"How do you feel about destroying another government, Blade?"

Chapter Text

Tommy had really grown to adore the arctic tundra, all things considered. Sure, he could go without the cold and even now, months later, he still yearned for early mornings in L’manburg with Wilbur, Fundy, and Tubbo but this was now his home. He had an unofficial Tommy Chair (TM) in the living room, had things to keep the young boy and his companions active and happy, and was excitedly awaiting the soon-to-be springtime that was encroaching ever closer to the server. Everything was good. Everything was peaceful more or less.

So, it felt pretty FUCKING RUDE of the universe to make him wake up in a truck ton of pain. Especially after the damn good day he had with Ranboo too!

The boy’s war-scarred instinct instantly flared, himself jumping up before stumbling, his leg catching him off guard. FUCK. His mouth felt like something was ripping through his already overgrown canines and making his gums bleed. Fuck, fuck!

Distantly he could hear his door being flung open and his uncle come into view. Not even everyone else was all the way awake, he could hear even Clementine freaking out. Fucking hell everything felt bad. It reminded him of late nights patching up burn wounds, of calming himself down enough to where he could cauterize a wound or putting in stitches. No, no, no! He was supposed to be safe! He was supposed to have a new start! This wasn’t exile and it wasn’t Pogtopia! He shouldn’t be feeling pain! Tommy didn’t even realize he was crying until the pain ebbed for a second and he could comprehend that Techno was speaking to him softly, guiding him back to bed and handing him a tissue to dap at his eyes. No. No, no, no! He didn’t want to lay down! He… He didn’t know what he wanted but he didn’t want to sit still and be akin to a sitting duck! Pain meant danger! How was Techno so fucking calm during this!?

“Theseus…” He heard Technoblade huff out, “What’s wrong?”

Tommy didn’t feel like speaking, the pain still clouding his senses. Fucking hell, he felt useless. Even his nine-year-old self, fighting in a war that looking back no child should’ve fought in, was more productive than him right now! Techno tilted his head when Tommy tapped at his teeth, Tommy himself involuntarily hissing when the pain shot up his spine and added another layer of exhaustion. Technoblade furrowed his eyebrows before tapping the bed.

“Stay here, chriso mou.”

Now that the pain had ‘soothed’ itself into a constant ache, Tommy could now almost hear everyone losing their damn minds. Yep… A few choice… Greek? Cuss words from Clem, some damn language that he didn’t even want to decipher from Seville… they were probably fighting… He could hear Mandarin absolutely losing it, cussing in Dutch. Huh… Fundy always used those cusses when he was in pain… And he could tell Tangerine just dipped. Heh… They reminded him a lot of pre-everything Wilbur… Even their response to pain… Actually… Now that he thought about it a lot of his chat had similarities to people-

“I’m back, little god,” Technoblade said quietly, “Drink. It’ll sooth the pain.”

Fucking hell Tommy hated the worried look in Technoblade’s eyes. He didn’t want him worried! Or to coddle him! He was a big fucking man and-

-Just drink the fucking potion you hard-headed kit.-

Never mind. An angry Clementine was more dangerous than even Dream. Probably. Maybe… Tommy felt too exhausted to even entertain the idea of fucking around and finding out.

Tommy gripped the regen potion in his hands and downed it in one go, cringing slightly at the sharp pain that shot up his spine when the glass hit one of his teeth. All the while, Technoblade was crouching next to Tommy’s bed. Once the pain subsided mostly, Tommy could feel his anger come back at full force.

“What the fuck! Technoblade, we swear to Prime, if you-”

Technoblade chuffed at him. Motherfuck-

“At least your aggression is developing nicely. You’ve never had a problem with that.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Why the hell does our mouth feel-”

“Like somethings ripping itself out?”

“…yes.”

For the love of Prime he didn’t even want to overthink how fucking cryptic Technoblade was being.

“Your tusks are growing.”

What.

“What the hell are you talking about.” Tommy hissed. Fucking hell his jaw was aching, a headache was forming in his head, and now this cryptic bullshit? Swear on the QUEEN he was this close to biting someone and-

“Your tusks. I expected your tertiary characteristics to develop sooner but now is better than never.”

Wait… so this bastard wasn’t just being cryptic that day! What the hell! Ugh his headache was getting worse.

“Fuckin- okay big man… Can… can you leave us the fuck alone now? Our head is sort of fucking killing us since… you know… fucking tusks apparently.” Tommy grumbled, burrowing his face into the fluffy blanket he had snatched from the living room.

“Okay, little god. I’ll bring you another regen potion in two hours.” Technoblade said, thought stood there for a second, picking at his claws.

Next thing Tommy knew is that Technoblade’s cloak was over his head and he heard the distinct sound of his door shutting. Huh. Taking the cloak off his head and putting it over his pillow, Tommy burrowed into the blankets again, his head pounding. Fucking hell. Sleep couldn’t come fast enough.

By the time Tommy woke up, he could see it was almost nighttime, the setting sun coloring the snow different shades of orange and red. Eh, at least his headache was gone.

^Technos makin some shit, Thes most of us got tanked by the headache of yours so yeahhhhhhhhh^

Oh shit, that must’ve been worse than Tommy thought if it affected them. Hell, he had so many questions for Technoblade.

Crawling out of bed, he walked into the hallway only to smell something delicious but also… Fucking hell PHILZA came over? He wasn’t even going to question how he was able to pick up his fathers’ scent but for the love of Prime even the idea of Philza coming over made him want to bite someone.

Wait…

Yeah, he should’ve picked up something was wrong he was never really this aggressive.

Now that he thought about it, this whole week had been weird. He snapped at anything that was loud, he was only calm around Michael, Ranboo, Technoblade, and most the animals, he felt the urge to burrow into the fluff of Technoblade’s cloak for some reason, and Philza had visited earlier in the week and Tommy almost took off his hand when he got too close to Tommy’s room. Shit.

Well, time waits for no person, not even the Queen so he guessed he couldn’t stop delaying the inevitable. He took the stairs two at a time and had to stop himself from barreling himself into the living room, eyes searching for Philza. No sign… And… his scent was sort of faint. Guess he left. Good. Now… To follow his stomach!

Tommy chittered lightly when he stepped into the kitchen, and Technoblade responded with his own baritone trill. Heh. The familiarity of the exchange soothed him a bit.

“Did Philza visit?”

Technoblade nodded, “Yes. Your senses are heightened right now but they’ll dull after your tusks grow. Despite most piglin families and packs now having ways to protect kits when they develop tusks, it’s an ancient thing that helps kits be aware of any danger and get away.”

“You’re rambling.” Tommy said with a grin.

“I’m aware of that.”

“So why did Philza visit?”

Technoblade stiffened for a moment before shrugging, “He just did.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes at Technoblade but the piglin avoided making eye contact, choosing to ramble more about the story he was telling Tommy the day before. Tommy loved listening, he really did, but the fact Technoblade didn’t tell him why Philza visited didn’t sit with him right. What was there to hide? Not to mention him visiting was entirely off schedule. Philza visited on Mondays, sometimes bringing Ranboo with him. Ranboo visited (or Tommy visited them) on Wednesdays. It was off schedule and it annoyed him.

“-AND I THE PUPPETEER. DANCE, PATATO BOY, DANCE!”

Eh, his uncle’s infectious excitement never failed to make him feel better at least.

“Anyway, Squid kid was an absolute madman and I’m eighty percent sure he’s a serial killer so to tell you I got the heck out of dodge once I agitated him would be an understatement. Oh, soups done.”

“Fucking pog,” Tommy trilled. The warmth from the bowl warmed his fingers. Fuck yeah, “Thanks Techie.”

Wait.

…

SHIT.

“YOU HEARD NOTHING!” Tommy hissed out, barley acknowledging his uncle’s wheezed laughter.

“I- Hah! By the nether, I haven’t heard that nickname in a long time, little god.” Technoblade huffed in amusement before grabbing his own bowl of soup, Tommy raising an eyebrow at his sudden stiffness, “I truly do not mind… You calling me Techno or… Techie, little god.”

Tommy snorted, “You’re socially awkward.”

“HEH?”

Okay… This day was going pretty fucking pog.

After they ate (Steve practically sitting on Tommy, the polar bear chuffing at him, almost like he was berating the hybrid.), Tommy picked up his current sewing project and continues working on it. The fabric was soft and the pattern was built specialized to avian hybrids… Tommy really hoped the Ranboo liked it once it was finished. Despite Technob- Techno’s wings being a tiny bit smaller than Ranboo’s, Tommy was still fascinated. Wings in general fascinated him… Maybe he could make a cloak for Techno that wasn’t so constricting on his wings…

“Want to hear about the time I beat Dream in a duel?”

“What.”

“I beat Dream in a duel! It was for money too so like hell was I going to turn it down! Fully after the Antarctic Empire-”

“What’s the Antarctic Empire?”

Techno stiffened for a moment before refusing to meet his eyes, choosing to draw a hand through Steve’s fur instead.

“An empire… Long ago, little god. It saw the birth of a demigod and the fall of a divine being. It was a place that taught its inhabitants to be humble, lest they fall.”

“Okay Socrates.”

“Hey! You asked, problem child. Don’t forget to drink that potion. I don’t want to lose a finger just because you’re agitated from the pain.”

Tommy nodded and sipped the regen potion as he listened to Techno continue to ramble… Yeah… Today was good. Could go without the pain of growing new teeth? Tusks? But overall, the day was really good.

And that’s how Tommy fell asleep, to Techno’s retelling of him and Dream’s duel. He briefly recalled being picked up but quickly went back to sleep.

And how he fucking wished he stayed asleep. It was dark when he was woken back up, sitting up immediately. He… didn’t like this feeling. He felt like he was being watched. Getting up, he creeped down the stairs and into the kitchen, drinking the last of his regen potion to sooth the ache in his jaw. Catching a glance of himself in the mirror walking back up, Tommy smiled slightly. He looked… Better. Opening his mouth, he could see two tiny white buds protruding out of his mouth (Not even questioning where his bottom two canines went). Hell yeah!

The feeling of being watched vanished now that Tommy was back in his room, the hybrid letting out a breath he didn’t know that he was holding. Something on his nightstand caught his attention, however. A tiny slip of paper. Strange… Picking it up, it took Tommy a few moments to recollect enough conscious to read it. He wished he didn’t.

‘Like father, like son - :)’

Alright, that’s it. Tommy felt anger practically rush him. Ripping up the note and throwing it out of his window for good measure, Tommy burrowed himself in his bed and in Techno’s cloak. He wasn’t going to let this fucker take what was rightfully Tommy’s. HE had suffered so damn much that he deserved this little bit of calm, this little bit of family.

He couldn’t deny the voice in the back of his head, however, wondering what the note meant. Philza practically disowned him.

He really wished he just laid back down.

Chapter Text

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32651884/chapters/80997556

Or just look on my profile but I had an idea and wanted to write it

May have another update for this book though out in a week or so

Chapter Text

Techno wasn’t in the house.

That should’ve been his first alarm.

There wasn’t any note left, nobody, nada.

He was alone.

He couldn’t hear anybody in his head.

Everyone was silent.

He… He was alone.

Without his permission, a terrified whine ripped itself out of his throat as he stepped back into the living room.

Wait.

Fear.

He was scared.

Scratch that, he was terrified.

Fear rooted himself to the ground as his eyesight blurred, a person was sitting on the couch. Green surrounded his vision.

And then he woke up.

Tommy breathed in a large gulp of air. The hybrid let out a quivering breath as he grounded himself. His nest was still bunched up, he was still in his bed with Techno’s cloak around him. He was safe. All that hurt was his growing tusks.

The first thing that squicked him out was his silent mind. But he chalked it up to everyone taking a lot of the pain from his tusks. Tommy’s first mistake.

The second mistake was breathing out a sigh of relief at a note in the kitchen. Techno always left notes on top of his books. He looped his L’s. The hand-writing was a crude mockery of Technos’.

The third was getting spooked by Ranboo.

“H-Hey big man! Damn, Techno left me a fucking baby sitter or some shit? I swear I am the Biggest Man to ever exist- Woah, hey Ranboo. Uhm… Don’t need to- RANBOO!”

His final mistake was not recognizing ender walking. An ender walking state that was not Ranboo’s own.

Ranboo sat down on the couch with Tommy in their arms, letting out a trilling chirp to… Someone. Tommy’s face was directly in black and white feathers.

“Good job, Ranboo.”

That… That wasn’t Techno. That wasn’t Philza. That voice…

Tommy would apologize later but as Ranboo let go of him with a pained screech, he wasn’t all that sorry for sinking teeth into their feathers. He scrambled up and almost felt his mind break at the sight of him.

Green. Green. Green.

Tommy was so fucking sick of neon green.

And so, Tommy did what he did best.

He ran.

He never expected to get far but he ran.

His face aggressively meeting the snow outside was his reward.

And still, he fought. He bit. He cussed and he yelled.

He wasn’t all there though. His mind already blanking.

Dream was talking.

Why was he talking?

Tommy tried to bite the hand that got near his tusks and let out a pained yelp once the hand wrapped itself around one of them.

…Tug.

Cursing.

Yelling.

Tug.

SNAP.

The snow was simply a canvas as he watched his own blood drip on it, half of his snapped off tusk already half way buried in it.

Tommy didn’t struggle anymore. Didn’t listen.

“There we go, son. If you’d just cooperate, you’d not have to go through this! Damn Nether hybrids… Never did trust Technoblade,” Dream was talking… Why was he talking? He wasn’t Dream’s son! He… He wasn’t. He… pain was the only thing in his mind, “No matter how much of a solid Technoblade did me by watching you, you know how busy I am. It’s not my fault for not wanting to deal with a child. Guess you never stopped being one anyway.”

Dream was rambling and Tommy could only focus on how much he wanted his pack.

Ender walking wasn’t new for Ranboo, they always got a little jittery during it so Technoblade just sat them down as he talked with Philza. It unnerved him slightly how panicked they seemed though. Readjusting his cloak, his gaze turned towards the tree line. Theseus… Theseus would be okay for a few hours. They had an established routine they followed if Techno wasn’t there, so the older piglin hybrid wasn’t worried. Pride still coursed through him at the thought of his kit. A few more years, and Technoblade’s gentle teachings would hopefully make up for the years his Chat never allowed him. Speaking of Chat…

Philza was looking worriedly towards his flock and even his own head buzzed with voices.

//

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

TECHNOHELP TECHNOHELP

techno in any situation i have no wish to panic you but for once there a legitimate problem

LISTEN TO THE LOWERCASE BITCH FOR ONCE

E

BLOOD PRINCE

//

Philza looked towards him worriedly then at Ranboo, the ender hybrid clutching the tree where Technoblade and Philza were chatting the entire time. As Philza talked quietly to a still deeply ender-walking Ranboo, Technoblade couldn’t help but feel panic rise in him. What… What the hell did his Chat mean? Of all the damn time for them to be cryptic…

“Theseus”

The piglin hybrid whipped his head towards Ranboo, the ender hybrid clasping at his suit and gasping. Philza let out a comforting trill as tears filled the ender hybrid eyes but they gently pushed him aside, grasping at Technoblade’s coat and growling.

“Theseus. Dream…” Ranboo couldn’t get out any more words as they collapsed against the piglin, sobbing, but he had already put two and two together.

His kit was in trouble. Technoblade prided himself on not being easily angered anymore. On not being quick to draw his blade and make true of his name. But he’d put that aside for his kit. After the two adults shared panicked looks, one more concerned about Theseus than the other, Technoblade grabbed his stuff and saddled Carl quickly. He refused to let his kit be taken from him again

The grass felt nice. Everything that wasn’t his body or the man yanking him forward felt nice. His brain felt stuffed with cotton and he was, admittedly, too tired to think or talk. It didn’t stop the dreamon in front of him from blabbering though. He stopped listening a long time ago. His tusk ached. Everything ached. His mind screamed for anyone, his pack, his Tubbo, his Ranboo, anyone at this point. He wanted to nap.

He couldn’t though. So, he wandered. His mind at least wandered. Wandered back to when times were simpler. When his body didn’t feel alight with pain every few seconds, when he was small enough to curl into Techno’s feathers…

Wait… Techno?

The boy stumbled a bit but still followed this damn dreamon but yet, his mind still wandered. Why… Why did Tommy remember him before Philza? Why did the scents that come to mind consist of only his and Techno’s?

“Little one.” He could hear Technoblade chuff. Feathers and fur surrounded him. Was… Was this one of those memories Clementine was walking about? Those in which he would remember when escaping from the real world? Fucking Prime what he would do in order to have her guidance right now…

Another one. Technoblade was chirping to him softly as Tommy bonked his canines against Techno’s leg. He was picked up gently and held against his rumbling chest, the tiny hybrid - himself? - being quickly quieted. He doesn’t recall smelling Philza or anyone else…

Something had spooked tiny him. He didn’t remember what did. Techno was up in a second, cradling him. He trilled. Tommy responded with his own. Tommy was cradled in Techno’s arms as he laid back down, quietly telling him a story. From the look in Techno’s eyes, it seemed he had told it time and time again to young Tommy.

“Theseus.” He could hear Techno’s surprised gasp behind him. He didn’t understand why. Until he looked at his claws. They were dripping crimson. He was instantly scooped up. Now that he had a better look at… why… why was he thinking sire? Why… Sire felt nice but why was his younger self calling Techno this? But… His younger self had not paid any mind to the fact that both him and their…sire… were covered in gore and blood and curled into Techno. He fell asleep to his sire humming.

His mind was clearer now. Why… Why did they consider Techno their sire? What the hell even IS a sire? Tommy was confused…

And the hot desert sands didn’t help.

Dream stopped in front of him, the hybrid taking care to not bump into him and jostle his broken tusk any more.

“Welcome to your uncles, my son!”

HIS kit…

Technoblade stared at the half-broken tusk in disgust and anger… Dread filled him a second later. His kit must be in so much pain…

His…kit.

Technoblade growled a low vibration that chilled any living thing around him to their core.

He decided to live up to his name

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Anger wasn’t a new thing for Techno. He harnessed it in his youth, killed the previous blood god using it, he centered his entire being around it. That anger, however, had a clear shot focus behind it. He was angry at the world; he was angry at the governments that used the people they were supposed to protect as things they could throw away at a moments notice. Now, though? He… He was angry. He knew that much. Apart from that, he… he had no idea.

The frost and the snow didn’t feel real, the creeping cold settling into his bones practically didn’t exist as he kneeled over the ground, a tusk in hand. Blood still seeping from the hole in the middle.

Your son’s tusk. His voices added. They craved blood, they craved murder. Someone-Dream- had hurt their kit, their baby, their little prince. Techno had to agree. A chirp sounded behind him, a clawed hand coming to rest on the back of his neck. Phil. Maybe a week ago he would’ve felt comforted by this, nether YESTERDAY he would’ve searched out the man just to spend with him, his oldest friend. Now? Techno… He… he had to admit he didn’t know. His emotions were jumbled, his head filled with fluff and muck. He felt acid and bile lap at his back molars as he stared at the tusk, not even acknowledging Phil talking to him. His son was hurt, his kit, his runt, his gold, his Theseus. He had fucked up again, he had let him down, he had… he had failed his runt again.

“-ome on, mate. Let’s get you inside and laid down-”

“No.” Techno growled. He… he was tired of ‘sleeping on it’. He… he didn’t blame Phil, he could never blame Phil, but the tiny so, so tiny tusk mocked him in his grasp. It mocked him like the voices did in the first years, it mocked him like royals a few seconds before their necks were snapped. It told of a kit, his kit, dealing with unbearable pain. It taunted him, with the knowledge that his kit was probably looking for his help, that he failed him again. No matter how disconnected he felt from his feathers, even he felt them ruffle at the thought. At the thought of his kit begging for his help. Of himself not being able to answer. Soon, soon, soon! The voices, oh gods the voices, they chanted, they screamed, they were metaphorically splitting his head open for not getting his ass up already come on, the voices urged, we’re wasting time we-

“No?” He forgot Phil was there, “Mate, you need to rest. Tommy can spend a few hours with the boy and then we’ll go get him.”

Anger once again spiked inside Techno. Logically, he knew Phil couldn’t see what was in his hand and, logically, he knew his Theseus wasn’t close to Phil nor did the two ever have even a semblance of a connection but… for Prime sake he needed to yell, he needed to get out his anger in the one surefire way he knew how. And, regretfully, Phil was the main target of the voice’s ire, and Techno was ever faithful.

“I don’t NEED rest, Phil,” Techno growled, standing up to his full height (grimacing at the creak and pop of his bones. Gods, he was either getting older than he realized or he had spent much longer kneeling than originally thought) and turning to face the avian, “Phil, Dream took Theseus! He…”

 Phil rolled his eyes with a smile, like…like this situation was funny. Like his kit’s suffering was a mere chore. Techno felt the anger spark and, akin to a lit match to a canister of gasoline, take ablaze under his skin, coursing through his bloodstream, clogging his vision. As his wings unfurled, drawing himself to his full height, he hoped, hoped, that Phil would get the hint, would get the hint that he… he was admitally hurting. And his dismissive waves weren’t giving him any brownie points from his instincts nor the voices.

“My kit’s life is on the fucking line, Philza.” He growled.

“I can imagine it isn’t, that Dream boy is harml-”

“Does this look fucking harmless to you?” In a fit of rage, the voices howling in his ears, making his vision turn red, he threw the tusk at Phil’s feet, “Does this look like my kit can wait another ten goddamn minutes? He can be DEAD for all we know!” He was yelling at this point, he didn’t care. His kit was in danger. His baby, his kit, his runt was in danger. His… his Theseus… fuck… was… was his vision always this cloudy?

The desert was hot.

Of course, it was hot, it’s the fucking desert.

Oh… that’s a big fucking shadow. Why is that guy so damn tall?

Mmm… Dream was talking to him. Damn… was he going to be put back in exile? Would… Would Dream allow him to at least get his stuff?

No… he would just blow it up again.

Did... did Techno get tired of him? Fucking Prime, what if he had gotten too loud? Too demanding? Of fucking course, leave it to The-Tommy Kraken Danger Innit Craft to drive off the only person in his gaze by being too fucking demanding. Prime above, he could already feel the bright burning slashes on his arm from Dream’s axe. They hurt, fuck they hurt so much he didn’t want to go back, why did he have to fuck everything up, why, why, why, why, wh-

W-what? Someone was talking to him. Oh… it was the tall guy. Haha... he sort of looked like a shark. Why did he look so concerned? He… he deserved this. Next thing he knew however, there was a hand on his tusk-oh shit his tusk, what happened, why did it hurt, he wanted his gaze, he wanted Techno, he was scared, scared, scared- and instinctually, he jerked away with a hiss.  A few heartbeats passed before his cheek was stinging. Ah… a less harsh variant of his usual punishment but a punishment nonetheless. Do better, the trained part of his mind hissed. This time, whenever Dream tilted his head so the Shark Guy could dap some potion on it, he didn’t fight it (Their eyes met briefly and it told Tommy all he needed to know. Someone was going to die today. And it wasn’t going to be him).

Miles away, past an avian trying his damnest to hold back a fully lost-in-the-instincts-sauce piglin hybrid, sat a half and half being staring down a scarred ram hybrid. Wordlessly, the two stood at the shrill cry of a buzzer. The two had come at an impasse seconds before. The ram would hold bigger restraint on bee’s men, hold back their growing bloodlust and order them to leave the healing piglin and other hybrids alone, and the being would allow the ram to start to heal with their shared ally, shared platonic soulmate. In the moment however, the being turned to the ram, their eyes spoke volumes of the rage that lay coursing through their body.

“Tubbo, grab your axe. Someone is dying today.”

A simple smile was all they got in response.

Tubbo was going to have fun.

Chapter Text

Okay, so, typing this on my phone so srry for any mispellings but ive been going through s e v e r e writers block and just,,, overall thinking how i want the fic to plan out and just- im not exactly happy with how it's spanning out to be. I never wrote this originally with it in mind of becoming semi popluar and i never wrote in a plot, moreso just shooting in the dark since the beginning since this fic originally came to be from me just wanting an escape from a very dark time in my life. Given im doing better mentally, emotionally, and physically I've been looking at this fic and mulling over whether or not to rewrite it. However, i want yalls opinion since yall are the ones who actually motivate me to write with comments and overall support. So please give me feedback and what yall think I should do!

Chapter Text

Hey yall! This isn't an update but moreso a reminder! Firstly, thank you all so much for all of the support! In between coming to my mom full time, court proceedings, starting new meds, cutting off my "best friend" of almost 8 years who i realized hurt me beyond what belief, this fic, along with others in the dsmp fandom have been my backbone and emotional support and relief. I am forever grateful to this communtiy and yall for not only giving me an out during the most stressful and emotionally taxing months of my life but also giving continous support and love.

But, unfortunately, if you know anything about the dsmp fandom, you know theres pedophilic freaks. And, since i do check whos bookmarked this fic (mainly for serotonin purposes), ive seen a fair share of some poppy freaks. So, just to reiterate, if youre poopytwt/"problematic"/proship/bubbletwt/literally anything that pertains to the sexualization of minors or ppl that are only BARLEY 18, i genuinely hope you kill yourself. Or get beat to death! I love the dsmp community but yall give these children and sometimes fully grown fucking adults too much damn leeway in terms of "Oh maybe its a coping mechanism!" or whatever bullshit they pull out of their ass. An offender, if surrounded by a community that tells them that these thoughts and feelings are normal, will start to believe that hey! its okay! and will probably rape, sexually harass, or molest in specific to this "community". It's genuinely disgusting to see these fuckers have the audacity to bookmark my fics or others fics and then say "haters/antis dni 🥺🥺". I genuinely hope yall find it within yourselfs to finish the job and rid this world of one less fucking pedo/future pedo.

Normally, I'm one that heavily enjoys "problematic" context (i.e heavy gore, discussions about why criminals do what they do, the sociology and pathology of convicted criminals, etc.) but thats bc i have some critical thinking. It's fun to explore normally taboo subjects as long as you have critical thinking and you understand that it isnt right, alongside that you dont actively harm others. Which these poppy fuckers do. So, to my usual followers and commentors, i am so sorry for my aggression. As a survivor myself, I do tend to get riled up about these topics. The rewrite is in the making! Currently, im waiting until im finished with school before i go full ham, as im still getting used to online schooling. If you're a poppy/bubble freak, as stated above, you arnt welcome and i genuinely hope you find the error in your ways and apologize, if not wellll- i think i expressed my distain and disgust well enough.

Thank you for reading ☆☆

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Hot damn yall! Its the 1 year anniversary of me starting this fic! Squeezing this out super late-

This has honestly been a super wild ride. I honestly never expected to hit these kind of milestones- so, from the depths of my heart, thank you so much! While I have lost passion for this fic, It's still amazing to me to see this date come! Its,,, honestly kind of crazy to me that so much has happened in this time.

This is the last chapter of Withers Hot Chocolate and Regaining Trust. I wont miss writing out that long ass title lmao- but! I do have another fic I'm excited to show yall! Ft. one of my fav. genres to write- body horror and gore!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38920656/chapters/97335048 - A Discussion of Decay!

I hope yall will enjoy and even if you do not choose to, I hope everyone of yall the best! Thank you so much and I'm so excited for what comes!