Work Text:
Tommy stares up at the night sky, stars twinkling above, far beyond his reach. It’s cold, but not unpleasant tonight.
He isn’t sure exactly why he’s here- actually, that’s a lie. He does. But he’s not sure how long he’s been out here.
Tommy scans the stars, blinking away tears he didn’t know were forming. The stars, the black void above, it’s so close to home. So close to the warmth and the love he had once been given freely, now far out of his reach.
As much as Phil had provided, as much as Wilbur and Techno had tried, even before L’manburg, there was simply no replacing Tommy’s motherland, his home, his being.
Those stupid fucking hunters, that fucking portal. Tommy had been ripped from his home, his life, and his family.
He can’t…he can’t really recall what his family had looked like before that thing (he refused to call it a human) had dragged him away. Their hands (Were they hands?) were cold but oh-so warm.
He remembers it wrapped around him, the void hugging him tight, keeping him safe. he remembers, distantly, there were lots of them.
Whatever ‘them’ or himself, was.
Then…then they were gone. One left, stronger than the others, powerful. A mother protecting her child. His mother.
She was strong. Not strong enough. Tommy was ripped from his home, his warmth, and the void of the sky is the only remainder of her, of them.
Tommy sighs gently, feeling a warmth spread through his hands. He looks down, a gentle purple glow spreading through his skin, his veins of blood humming with energy. Tommy hugs his arms around himself, letting his body shift and morph into his form.
One that is trapped beneath his skin, learned to hide, learned to be nothing more than Tommy. A mortal. A Human.
But here, underneath his mother's gaze (what should’ve been hers) he lets himself breathe. His wings stretch out behind him, the thin bones unfolding, his illusion charm fading into nothing but a faint hum.
The black and purple membrane covers the wings, large and intimidating. Though, Tommy knows that isn’t their real use.
Dragons, for all their ferocity and fight, are pack members. They keep a hoard; they teach the young and they raise their pups.
Tommy’s wings are meant for shielding, for keeping his loved ones, whether it be his unborn children or family, safe.
his wings are for flight, his claws for holding food, his teeth to scruff the young, the fire for keeping them warm.
He is not made for war, nor for fighting. None of them are.
Tommy smiles softly as he watches a flicker of flame, sparks from his mouth as he releases a sigh. He wraps his wings around himself, looking at the twinkling void above.
He wraps his arms around himself, letting his elongated black claws press onto his skin.
The wind brushes past him, a familiar touch on his skin. He is warm. He is safe. he is calm.
It’s late, and Tommy knows he should return but he just can’t bring himself to go back into the house. After all, after everything, he has found peace.
Wilbur is…back, but Ghostbur has stuck around. Ghostbur, who trusted and loved Tommy enough to hide his origins from the others. Phil was finally staying, properly for once.
Techno’s voice’s no longer demands blood and violence, instead, his elder brother has found patience and peace, simply living his time in retirement.
But Tommy…Tommy has not. his family is with him, but they are not his. He isn’t Philza’s flock, he isn’t Techno’s Sounder, he isn’t Wilbur’s haunt, and he isn’t Ghostbur’s brother.
He has no one, and no one has him. It is sad, in solitude. And he knows, Tommy knows that if he told them, he’d be welcomed with open arms.
But he will not interrupt their love, their binds, and their promise. Despite the vows Tommy shares with them, just as they do to him, he knows it isn’t the same. They are…unaware, of his hybrid status.
If he was human, he wouldn’t even notice the difference. But he does. He is of magic, after all. He can see how theirs wounds and twists together, how they bind and connect. They never reach Tommy’s, though he can see them reach out.
Phil has gotten close, before, his magic just brushing against Tommy’s. but he had pulled back, shutting the moment down, leaving Philza in the dark about where that strange wisp had come from.
Tommy loves them, he knows. He knows they love him too. but how, how can he share a secret so tightly bound to his heart? So intertwined with his soul that it hurts, that it crushes and squeezes, wrapping him tight.
He can feel black tears drip down his face, dripping onto his knees as he rests his chin on them. he isn’t in his full form, but he’s close. His eyes are black, he can assume, and his pupils must be bright blue, pupils dilated.
Inky tears continue to spill.
His black skin twists around him, scales covering his once-soft skin. His wings stretch a little more, and he feels his tongue shift in his mouth.
His once grey sweatpants now had black stains on the knees, as though he had kneeled in black paint. His tail swishes behind him before wrapping around himself in an attempt at comfort.
He doesn’t attempt to speak, but he knows he cannot from words.
He wants his hoard. He wants his pack, his people. He wants his mother.
Tommy hears a high, shrill, keening noise only to realise he was making the noise himself. Ah. It was a pack call, one used to draw in other dragons.
More pitch-black tears drip down his face, knowing the call was useless. There was no one there for him. None of his kind.
Tommy is alone.
“Hullo.” His body freezes, his quiet whines cutting off with a squeak, his tears slowing to a drip. Behind him, he can feel the presence of Techno, his magic winding out to reach Tommy’s own.
Ah.
Right.
He doesn’t recognize him.
“Mind tellin’ me why you’re out on my porch?” Tommy refuses to turn around, instead wrapping his wings tighter around himself, his tail swishing at his feet.
Tommy looks up to the sky instead, trying to get his breathing even.
Techno rumbles in annoyance at Tommy’s silence.
He can hear Techno shift and he can see the light emitting from a lantern being lit up by Techno’s matches. Techno’s breath hitches, and everything falls quiet.
“…You are not avian.” Tommy snorts, though it comes out a low chuff instead, his tail swishing lightly. Techno won’t hurt him.
He can’t hurt him.
Right?
When he attempts to speak, Tommy’s voice comes out in his mother tongue, the language of his mother. “Yes. I believe I am not, Brute.”
Techno chuffs back, and a small smile appears on Tommy’s face.
Most would assume Brute was an insult, but in Piglin culture it was a compliment, a show of strength and a show of the respect the other, whether it be Piglin or species, held for the ‘brute’.
Techno doesn’t reply for a moment, in words at least, until Tommy hears the boards creak. Techno is beside him now, looking up at the sky with Tommy. “I was…unaware that your kind was still alive, especially their Emberlings without a Dam.”
And…oh.
Oh.
Techno was using their names. Their real names. Emberlings, children of dragons. Dam, mother of dragons.
It was the most respect Tommy had ever gotten as an Emberling. Most just called them dragons, or guessed what they were called.
Pups are what people usually go for. Those were fox or fucking wolf hybrid cubs. Not Dragons.
It’s nice to be recognized for once, even in such a way. Tommy makes a small chittering noise, “We are not. I am all that remains.” Tommy’s first language, his mother tongue, was quite formal.
Dragons were all about respect and cooperation with one another, as fights could be catastrophic to both sides.
Techno is quiet again, and the lantern is placed down. “You are young. You can barely be eighteen in human years. How did…?” Tommy shifts, lowering his wings slightly.
“We are…different, than other hybrids like yourself, Brute. Your kind is made from a human and a Piglin. We have never needed human interference.” Techno frowns, processing the statement before Tommy can see when it clicks.
“Dragons are changelings?” Tommy nods, smiling, his sharp teeth and inky black tongue showing as he does. Instead of backing away, Techno inches closer. Ah, always one to learn.
“Yes. I’m sure you’ve heard the tales of those altering face and shape. Those were us, a long time ago.”
“Is that how you survived, then? Blending in with humans and other, simpler hybrids?” Tommy frowns at the use of language.
He knows Techno means no harm, but calling a hybrid type simple is an offence, whether it be his own or another.
“Yes,” Tommy goes quiet for a moment.
“I know you, Technoblade.” Techno stiffens slightly, looking at Tommy. “Your father brought me here after my pack was slaughtered for some measly glory. After I was stolen from my home.”
Techno’s eyes widen more, and Tommy can see when the realization hits. Their Magic swirls, tentatively touching and testing.
“…” they are quiet for another moment before Techno shifts closer. “…Theseus.” His voice is impossibly soft, a low chuff noise coming from the Piglin hybrid.
Tommy shifts, his wings coming back to wrap around himself, his tail curling around his legs. “Wait, Theseus. I won’t hurt you; I promise.” Tommy glances over his wings, frowning.
Techno makes a reassuring chuffing sound again, one oh-so similar to the sounds a Dam would make to their Emberling.
Tommy keens, high and needy in return. Techno opens his arms, and Tommy crashes into him.
A hand gently curls in his hair, the other on his waist as he pulls Tommy so that his head is tucked under the elder's chin, legs hanging off the man’s side.
Techno rumbles gently, the vibrations running down Tommy’s spine. Tommy curls closer, his wings extending before covering them both, his tail twisting around his brother.
“Why didn’t you tell us, Runt?” Tommy’s bottom lip trembles, his voice a mixture of his mother tongue and English, unable to articulate his words properly.
“Scared. They killed them, my family. My hoard. My mother was last, Dream stole me as some prize.” Techno’s cards his hand through Tommy’s hair, rumbling in assurance.
“Oh, Theseus…” Tommy feels inky tears drip again, but this time a calloused hand cups his cheek, Techno wiping them away with his thumb. “I didn’t- I couldn't lose another.” Techno purrs softly, pulling Tommy close.
“You won’t lose us. You never will.” Tommy sniffles gently, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Techno gently takes Tommy’s claws in his own, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “Never again. You won’t ever be alone again.”
Tommy leans into the touch, watching as Techno’s eyes shimmer at Tommy’s claws. “Re…Really?” Techno nods, “I’d rather throw all of my gold into lava than lose you again, Theseus.”
Their magic curls around together, twirling and binding together. Warmth floods him, and Tommy feels fresh tears in his eyes.
Except, they’re clear, not black. Tommy notices he’s reverting back to his human form. but still, Tommy keens softly, curling into his older brother's arms. Techno bundles him up in his arms, carrier the younger inside. “Shh, it’s alright Theseus. Relax, you’re going to be ok.”
And for once, Tommy believes him when he says it.