Chapter Text
Wilbur liked to take walks. Alone. He argued that he was fourteen and needed his space when his father complained. So the fact that, on his usual forest trail just outside of town, there was a child was less than satisfactory. It was a little boy in a box. What a cliche way to abandon your child.
As much as Wilbur wanted to turn around and leave the kid for someone else to come across, it was getting dark, and Wilbur was not going to be responsible for some little baby getting eaten.
Upon closer inspection, it appeared that the little boy was most certainly not a baby, or even a toddler, but looked to be about five or six years old. Which was probably good, because maybe he would be able to give basic information. Perhaps Wilbur would be able to take him into town and find his parents and everyone would live happily ever after. Totally plausible, right?
“Hello, are you lost?” Wilbur asked. Seconds after he spoke, he realized what a stupid question that was. A tiny child sitting in a box in the woods was most definitely not lost, but rather left here to fend for himself.
“Hi, I am not lost,” the kid said, smiling.
“Okay, well, what’s your name? Mine is Wilbur.”
“I am Tommy!”
“Okay, Tommy, if you’re not lost then why are you here all alone?”
“I’m in the woods! I know that these are the woods so I am not lost!” Tommy was grinning again. Wilbur could see tiny fangs poking out of his mouth and scrunched up his face in confusion.
“Do you want me to take you home?” Wilbur asked, eyeing the boy with contempt.
“No, my mother doesn’t like how I’ve got teeth. If I bite her she screams.” At this admission, Tommy actually seemed a bit sad, but the pout on his face did not last long. “Oh, I know! I can bite you!”
“What? No!”
“Why not?” Tommy seemed genuinely confused. Who was this kid?
Wilbur pinched the bridge of his nose. “Because biting people hurts them. And it’s not nice to hurt other people because it makes them sad. So no biting.”
“Can I bite something else?”
While Wilbur considered this question, Tommy took liberty to stand and step out of the box he was in. He was quite thin, but not short, and now that he was standing in the light cast by the setting sun rather than the shadows, Wilbur could see two tiny horns poking out from his messy blonde curls. What kind of child was he?
“You might be able to bite objects,” Wilbur decided.
“Okay, bring me to them!” Tommy cried out. He grabbed Wilbur’s hand and began pulling him down the path.
“That is the wrong direction, Tommy,” Wilbur said. Tommy paused, then turned around and began pulling at Wilbur’s hand again.
He had to figure out a way to get rid of this kid.
Wilbur brought Tommy home. He lived in a rather large house, his father’s bloodline being loosely connected to that of the royal family, and they were well respected within their hometown and the surrounding villages. Tommy looked at the four story building in awe, taking in the nice gardens and tall iron gate.
“This house is big!” Tommy exclaimed, jumping up and down.
“Yeah, it’s alright,” Wilbur replied modestly. He still wanted a goldfish pond in the back garden.
“Phil?” Wilbur called as they stepped inside. “I have a… thing.”
After a few moments of standing in the foyer, his father appeared.
“That’s a child.”
“Yeah, except he’s kind of not just a regular kid. Like, you’ve got wings, right? He’s got… horns?” Wilbur looked up at his fathers face.
“Why have you brought home a literal demon baby?” Phil asked, annoyance obvious in his voice.
“Is that what he is? I found him in the woods.”
Tommy, who had been quietly staring at Phil’s wings up until this point, grinned and chimed in. “My name is Tommy!”
“Hello, Tommy. I’m Phil. Where are your parents?” Phil asked, kneeling down in front of the little boy.
“My mother didn’t like it whenever I bit her. And more stuff. So she said bye bye to me,” Tommy said, smiling.
“Phil, he clearly had no feelings. He has no empathy. He’s always grinning. Do you think he’s a sociopath?” Wilbur asked. He bit his lip, looking down at the kid who was still holding onto his hand.
“Wilbur, do you even know what a sociopath is?” Phil asked dryly.
“Well, not exactly, but-”
“Then don’t refer to a toddler as a sociopath.”
“Well what do we do with him?” WIlbur asked. He didn’t want to admit it, but Tommy was kind of cute. His cheeks were round and rosy, eyes a bright and sparkling blue, and his fluffy little curls framed his round face in a way that made ever the two little horns poking out look endearing. His sharp teeth were pearly white and his little hands grabbed things so clumsily that Wilbur couldn’t help but laugh. The fact that Tommy was a sticky and grimy child could almost be overlooked by how smiley and small he was.
“I guess he’ll stay here until someone comes for him or there is space in a home or something. He’s clearly a demon hybrid, though, which makes me wary. Those can be difficult, and unfortunately a lot of them don’t make it past childhood because of prejudice or fear. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s why he was left in the first place.”
Wilbur frowned, looking at Tommy once more.
“He’s so cute and harmless though. Even if he does apparently bite people.”
“He’s got the potential to be extremely dangerous, though, especially because we don’t know what kind of demon hybrid he is. I assume it comes from his father’s side, if it’s his mother who left him alone. He could grow up to have no powers or talents at all, the only thing setting him apart from humans being those horns and perhaps a bit of wildness. However, he could end up with wings, the ability to use magic, all sorts of things. It’s a waiting game for whoever he ends up with. I just hope they’re willing,” Phil explained.
“I would like to bite things?” Tommy asked.
“Of course, mate, let’s get you some food.”
They were in the kitchen, Tommy chewing on a slice of a baguette, when Techno joined them. Technoblade was Wilbur’s brother, his twin in every sense but blood. Neither of them were Phil’s children by blood either, but they were family.
“That is a child,” Techno stated, eyes darting between Wilbur, Phil, and Tommy.
“Good observational skills, Techno,” Wilbur said. Techno just scowled at his sarcasm, which made Wilbur beam.
“Why is he here?”
“I found him and he was all alone. Look how cute he is, Techno. His name is Tommy!”
“My name is Tommy,” Tommy repeated.
“I’m Technoblade.”
“Tet-noblade,” Tommy said with a smile.
“No, it’s pronounced Tech-no-blade. With a kuh sound.”
“Tet-no.”
Techno frowned. “I hate this child.”
“I think we should keep him, actually,” Wilbur replied. Both boys looked to Phil with pleading eyes for completely different reasons.
“What can I bite now?” Tommy asked. His jaw appeared to be moving on its own accord, biting at air, his teeth clicking together each time his mouth closed.
“Can kids his age be teething?” WIlbur asked, peering into Tommy’s moving mouth. His teeth looked normal, save for the very sharp fangs he had. He didn’t seem to be missing any teeth that had yet to grow.
“Could be the fangs. I’ll have to touch up my knowledge on demon hybrids, I don’t know much,” Phil mused.
That night, as Wilbur climbed into bed, he heard scuffling outside his room. He opened his door to find Tommy, grinning as always. Tommy had been given his own bed in his own room to sleep in, but clearly he was not having any of that.
“What do you want?” Wilbur asked, yawning.
“Sleep?” Tommy asked.
“You want to sleep in my bed?”
“Mhm!”
“God, you are so disgustingly cute and I absolutely despise you,” Wilbur said, scooping Tommy into his arms. Tommy only smiled even bigger.
That night Wilbur fell asleep with a six year old Tommy curled into his chest.