Work Text:
The fact that Tommy was a hybrid wasn’t really a surprise.
It was unexpected, sure, but at the same time, could you really be surprised? Tommy may be adopted, but he’s in a family of other hybrids, in a world where hybrids are fairly common. Wilbur’s the only one who’s human through and through, but Techno and Phil are obviously hybrids, not just from the obvious appearances, but also from the general habits.
Phil has the tendency to steal small things, to chirp back at the birds when they speak to him. He also has a tendency of running into windows a little too often.
Technoblade doesn’t exactly steal, but the exception to that is anything made of gold. He swears he doesn’t mean to, but the words are a bit useless each time Wilbur checks his closet and finds out that, wait a minute, is this where my golden sword went-?
Tommy grew up with those two being in the house and rubbing off on him. So when he started having certain similar habits, it was brushed off as an effect of living in a house where it was common to have someone yoink your things and where no one slept at a normal time.
Then his traits grew in.
And honestly, it just wasn’t a surprise, it was more of an explanation.
1. Claws
It took a week for Tommy to properly recover from his whole body going through a rather sudden change, and that week was filled with him either complaining, eating, or being knocked out cold.
While it certainly wasn’t enjoyable, there was still a bit of pity to be had for the boy, seeing him buried underneath a pile of pillows and blankets on the floor of his room, muttering about how his new claws kept getting caught on everything, and how he wishes it was darker, and ‘Phil, can I have more food?’
“You ate an hour ago, mate.” Phil responds, although he still sent Techno off to get yet another plate of food for the teen.
“How are you still hungry? You’ve eaten like five plates! It’s not even noon.” Wilbur asks, leaning in towards the pile of blankets where Tommy was hidden away. He lifts up a single pillow, showing a small crevice where you could only see the slightest hint of Tommy’s face, before suddenly a hand swipes out and smacks Wilbur away. “Oy!”
“Go away.” Tommy says, and Wilbur huffs, leaning back and for a moment and acting as if he truly was going to get up to walk out of Tommy’s room. “Nonono, wait, I was kidding-” Tommy says then, seeing Wilbur from out of his little seeing-hole.
A smug smile spreads across Wilbur’s face, and he sits back down, Tommy’s voice dying out, before speaking up once more.
“I hate you.”
“Uh-huh.” Wilbur nods, looking far too pleased with himself.
Techno by then had returned back with the food, which then promptly disappeared underneath the pile of blankets, with the plate getting thrown back out just a few minutes later.
After about a couple days of this routine, an intervention had to be staged, considering the fact that Tommy really had to take a bath of some sort. Being curled up in blankets for a while with crumbs of food couldn’t have been good for him and his hygiene.
However, convincing Tommy to come out was a bit of another story.
“Tommy.”
“Go away.”
Phil smiles sympathetically. “Listen, mate, you’ve been under there for a while. Don’t you want a bath?”
“No. I want you to go away.” Tommy responded, shifting underneath his cave of pillows and blankets. Techno had tried earlier to drag Tommy out by force, but Phil hadn’t yet trimmed those claws, and as a result, Techno now has two bandaids on his ankle and a general wariness around Tommy and his swiping hands.
Wilbur doesn’t exactly want to get scratched either, nor does Phil, so the best bet right now is to try and coax the little demon out.
Which isn’t going well.
“Well, if you don’t come out, then you won’t get another plate of food.” Wilbur shrugs, Phil looking back at him with an amused face. “Not until you agree to take a bath.”
A small sad noise comes in response, and Wilbur has to trample down the feeling of pity that rises up and threatens to choke him of any logic.“I don’t need a bath.” Tommy says, voice dejected. “Why are you being so mean to me?”
“You scratched me.” Techno deadpans, glancing at the two brightly colored band-aids that sit on his ankle.
“You deserved that!” Tommy nearly hisses, the sad tone thrown out the window, and Wilbur loses what little sympathy he had. The little shit had only been trying to guilt-trip him, ugh.
“You have been under those blankets for like, what,” Technoblade thinks a bit. “Three days?”
“Have not.” Tommy responds, and Phil leans down, smiles as he can see Tommy’s eyes peeking out from a small crack. “I come out when you guys are asleep.”
“Well, we can leave if you want.” Phil suggests.
“No.” Tommy says stubbornly.
“Tommy, you really should take a bath.”
“No.”
“Oh my god, you’re being overly difficult right now-” Wilbur sighs heavily, hoping that he’s not going to get scratched too bad as he walks up beside Phil, reaching down to yank the first blanket off from Tommy. “Come on! I know you are tired-”
Tommy swipes out a hand, trying to make Wilbur go away, but Wilbur just pulls away a single blanket, then flings it across the room. Techno steps to the side, watching a pillow hit the ground beside him with a thump as Wilbur persists.
“Mate-” Phil laughs, Wilbur jolting back as he’s scratched at again, Tommy making little unhappy sounds that sound more like growls rather than understandable words. “You’re stressing him out.”
Wilbur steps back, looks at Tommy, who’s still underneath at least three blankets, even with his efforts, and he then looks at his arms with a frown. There’s angry red lines across his left hand, and they sting a bit, but not enough for him to back away.
There’s the sound of unhappy chittering coming from underneath the blankets, Tommy seeming to be the cause, and the other three in the room pause for a moment, just listening to Tommy’s reaction at losing some of his blankets.
“Wilbur, I hate you, a lot.” Tommy eventually says, after a solid minute of noises that didn’t have any understandable meaning.
“Techno.” Wilbur says, not looking away from the pile of blankets on the ground, seeing a small glimpse of Tommy peeking out with a curious look. Wilbur raises his hand to Techno. “Teamwork.”
“Oh boy.” Phil grins, but he steps back anyway, as Techno lets out a big sigh, then walks forward with Wilbur to try and help him with the futile mission of trying to drag Tommy out.
“No!” Tommy yells, sounding like he’s horrified, and Wilbur responds by jumping on top of the blankets and pinning Tommy underneath. He gets a startled screech in response, and Technoblade narrowly avoids having his ankles scratched once again as he steps closer to try and grab Tommy.
Phil just watches the general chaos with a smile. No way he’s getting involved in that.
2. Stealing
Tommy had been a bit more tolerable after he was forced to take a bath and Phil had wrangled him into clipping his nails so he wouldn’t be scratching any of the others anytime soon.
Clipping his nails had actually been easier than the bath, surprisingly. Tommy was fighting for his life in order to not get thrown into a body of water, and Wilbur and Techno have more band-aids as a result.
With Tommy being actually clean, with new clothes and a pissed-off expression, Phil had taken his part, and went to trim Tommy’s nails.
There was a lot less fighting with that one, and Phil got away with being scratched only once, a fact that Wilbur and Techno feel a bit bitter about, honestly.
With Tommy being dragged out from the blankets now, it was now easier to see how he had changed, besides from the obvious claws.
He had a tail.
A tail that wouldn’t stop wagging as he followed Phil down the hallway to the kitchen, Techno and Wilbur trailing behind.
There were also the little ears that sat on his head in between his curls that were still drying from the bath, but the tail was what Wilbur was losing his mind over.
“Phil, I want food.”
“Sure, mate.” Phil hadn’t seemed bothered at all by the hands that were tugging at the ends of his feathers.
“Strawberries, I want strawberries.”
“Alright.”
“Do we have strawberries?”
“Let me look for some.”
It was a little jarring to actually see Tommy scurrying around after having been hiding in his room for a solid week, but it was a welcome sight, especially with how his face lit up when Phil found that they did have strawberries.
Tommy hadn’t even taken Phil’s offer on cutting them, he just took the little basket they had for the fruit, and ran, escaping down the hall, into his room.
“There goes the strawberries.” Technoblade says under his breath, Wilbur sighing and hitting a band-aid covered hand to his face as they heard the slam of a door.
“And we just got him out of his pile of blankets…”
“Oh, those probably should be washed, now that I think about it.” Phil says out loud, Wilbur sighing again. Techno looks over his hands where he had gotten scratched, and he frowns. “I need to go shopping again.” Phil murmurs, humming a bit.
Even with Tommy’s immediate reaction that was running back to his room with the swiped fruit, he thankfully didn’t go back into hiding.
No, he ventured outside his room in the dark of the night.
Stealing things.
“What are you doing.” Techno had caught Tommy in his room, rummaging through his closet, rather loudly, if he were to add. Tommy stopped dead in his tracks, wide eyes staring at Techno with his ears pressed flat to his head.
Technoblade would go to walk up to Tommy, but then again, the threat of being scratched had settled in pretty deep into his thought process. Even with Phil trimming those claws.
A quiet chittering comes from Tommy’s throat as a response, and he continues to stare at Technoblade, with one arm in Techno’s closet, snooping around for something.
“What are you doing, in my room?” Techno asks again.
“Nothing.” Tommy nods.
“Okay, well, then explain the hand you have rummaging around in my closet.”
Tommy’s face scrunches up into something that might be guilty, but then it lights up in triumph, and Techno watches as Tommy pulls out Techno’s iconic red cape.
It’s something he hasn’t worn in a while, considering he’s been home, and they haven’t been going out for any events or anything. Even now, Techno isn’t dressed to impress, he’s just wearing a t-shirt and pants, his hair in a loose bun.
Tommy seems overjoyed at what he’s found, though, and he wraps his arms around the fabric, holding it close to his chest, then raising his head back up at Techno.
Who’s blocking the door.
Tommy steps closer carefully, with each step he crouches down just a little lower, like he’s about to lunge. He keeps the stolen cape close to his chest, and he moves closer and closer, eyes wide, one of his ears flicking as Techno moves his arms and lets his hands rest on the doorframe.
“No.”
“Yes.” Tommy’s face breaks out in a grin.
“You’re not stealing that.”
“I’m not stealing it, I’m borrowing it.”
“Well then you’re not borrowing that either.”
“Hmm.” Tommy’s nose scrunches up in displeasure. “Please?”
Techno blinks. “...no.”
“Pleaseee.” Tommy asks, standing up straight and hugging the cape to his chest, eyes wide and sad. “Please, Techno, I’ll give it back.”
Techno makes a face, moving his attention away from the face Tommy is making, a face that is, dare he admit it, cute.
Although that was a mistake, because the moment he looks away, Tommy lunges, and ducks underneath Techno’s arm, squeezing through the doorway and tumbling out into the hallway.
“Hey!” Techno yells, watching Tommy scramble to get onto his feet, after he had slammed into the floor. The teen runs across the hall, disappearing into his room, and shutting it with a quiet click. Phil had told him earlier to not slam it, and he listened to that.
With that, Techno is left just standing in the hallway, with his favorite cape stolen straight from his closet, and in the grasp of Tommy, who’s probably not going to give it up without a fight.
Techno glances at his ankles. Huffs at seeing the bright colors of the band-aids on his skin.
He retreats into his room. Not today.
3. Sleep habits
Phil won’t lie, he’s a bit exhausted with the current events going on in the house.
He’s glad to have his bed back now, with Tommy, they had all been sleeping in Tommy’s room, in a mess of stray pillows and stolen blankets. Tommy had needed their company, and so they gave it.
Didn’t make it more enjoyable to sleep on the floor, though.
And now Phil has his bed back, along with his own pillows, blankets, thank god, but he doesn’t have the blissful sleep to go along with it.
He can hear footsteps out in the hallway, someone running around, even though according to the clock, it’s nearly 2 am.
It’s far too late for this.
Phil stares at his ceiling for a bit, one of his hands running across his feathers as he hears yet another tapping of footsteps go up and down the hall, and he sighs. They’re too quick to be Techno’s, and they’re too light to be Wil’s.
Phil crawls out of bed, stretching his arms up with a yawn, then standing up and pulling his hair back into a neater ponytail, as he hears yet again the sound of footsteps coming up the hall.
He swings his door open, and catches Tommy right there, watching as he freezes in his tracks, eyes wide at seeing Phil.
“Mate.” Phil says.
Tommy sprints down the hall, and Phil, even with his usual common sense, follows right at his heels.
They both run into the kitchen, where Tommy skids a bit in trying to run around the counter, and Phil wraps his arms around his torso, and yanks him off his feet.
Angry chittering comes from Tommy as he kicks his feet out, trying to slap his hands against Phil behind him, and Phil just flaps his wings and covers Tommy in his feathers once, twice, then watches as Tommy is too thrown off to properly fight back.
“Why are you up at this time?” Phil asks, placing Tommy down on the ground again, but not yet letting go.
“I’m not tired.” Tommy frowns, tilting his head back to look at Phil. He slumps and forces Phil to carry most of his weight, the back of his ankles being pressed to the floor as he slowly slides downwards. “I can’t sleep and I’m bored.”
“So you decide to run around in the hallway in the middle of the night?” Phil asks, raising his eyebrows.
“I wasn’t running around.” Tommy protests, and he then pauses, then blinks. “Er, yeah, I wanted to run-”
“What were you doing.”
“Nothing!”
Phil clicks his tongue, not at all convinced. “Uh-huh.” He raises his head up to look at the kitchen, Tommy swiping his hands up at Phil’s chin to try and get him to look down, away from the chaos that was Tommy snooping around in the kitchen cabinet.
So Tommy wasn’t running around. He was just stealing food and bringing it back to his room.
“Mate, as much as I’m glad you’ve been eating, you can’t just keep half the pantry in your closet.”
“I’m not.” Tommy stresses, and Phil lets the silence sit for a bit. “It’s not that much.”
“Really now.”
Phil lets go of Tommy, turns around and walks back down the hall, ignoring the nervous chittering that rises up behind, gentle tugs on his wings.
“Wait, wait-” Tommy tries to say, and he tries to go past Phil, only for Phil to block the hallway off with his wings.
Sure, enough, when Phil enters Tommy’s room, he’s not at all surprised to find that there’s a stash of food tucked underneath his bed.
They spend the next twenty minutes bringing most of it back to the kitchen, Tommy doing it with a frown the entire time, occasionally making sad noises that Phil hardly sways to.
Phil wakes up the next morning with Techno and Wilbur complaining that their favorite snacks have gone missing, and they all find that Tommy’s fast asleep, in the middle of the day.
+1 Purring
“Don’t wake him up.” Phil calls as he walks down the hall, seeing Technoblade and Wilbur hover in front of Tommy’s room, Wilbur already seeming like he’s tempted to swing the door open and burst inside. “He was up late last night, he’s going to be pissed if you wake him up.”
“But he’s stolen my things.” Wilbur huffs, Techno snorting in amusement. “I can’t find my sweater, and according to Techno, apparently the child has gotten a habit of stealing things that aren’t his.” He turns his head to the door. “Not unlike the other people in this house.” He mutters quietly.
Techno looks at the ground as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world.
“And so you want to try and steal it back?” Phil asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“He’s sleeping.” Technoblade shrugs. “We can just-- go in, get out, boom, done. He’ll be none the wiser until he notices.”
“If he notices.” Wilbur adds. Techno shrugs again.
Phil has a bit of an urge to tell them no, and to let Tommy sleep, since he’s already been through a rather hectic week, but then again, it’s not fair for their things to be stolen, and he could have this chance to see if Tommy is sleeping alright.
He sighs, dropping his head forward. “Do not wake him up.”
“We’re very sneaky, Phil, don’t worry.” Technoblade waves a hand.
Phil is reminded of how he always knows when Techno is walking down the hall, from the way he steps, and how Wilbur tends to accidently topple things over in the kitchen. He thinks of how Techno may be silent, but not at all good at staying hidden. Wilbur may be sneaky, but he isn’t very good at being quiet.
With a small huff, he nods with a tiny smile. “Sure.”
Wilbur takes a small step towards Tommy’s room, carefully turning the doorknob very slowly, and pushing the door open just enough to peek inside. “He’s sleeping.” Wilbur whispers, barely holding back a laugh. “Techno, you’re not getting that cape back.”
Techno leans in towards Phil, the two of them looking through the small crack of the door, finding Tommy curled up on his bed, sleeping soundly even with the bits of sunlight creeping in through his closed blinds.
“Well, looks like you’re not getting that sweater back either.” Techno whispers back, and Wilbur realizes that Tommy is in fact wearing his stolen sweater, wrapped up in Techno’s cape, with a familiar green hat held tightly in his hands.
“Phil…did you happen to lose a hat in the past 24 hours or so?” Wilbur asks quietly, turning his head to Phil, who seems a bit confused, then goes to push past Techno and Wilbur, even with their hushed warnings.
Phil pauses just two steps into the room, holding a hand up, Techno and Wilbur hovering at the doorway with wide eyes.
They’re all dead-silent, and with that, they can hear the quiet, yet audible rumbling coming from the teen who’s sleeping on his bed.
“Is he fucking purring?” Wilbur asks, and he nearly sounds offended.
“Yeah.” Phil grins, turning back towards Wilbur and Techno, and he finds Techno with hands over his mouth, surprised eyes, and Wilbur looking absolutely broken, a quiet noise that can only be described as a squeal coming from him. Techno smacks him in the arm to make him shut up.
“Oh my god-” Wilbur breathes out, moving past Phil and kneeling down beside Tommy’s bed, his jaw dropping as he realizes the sound really is coming from Tommy, low and constant. “Techno! Techno, oh my god-” Wilbur whispers, Techno sitting down beside him. They both stare with baffled expressions at Tommy, who keeps sleeping on without a single worry.
Phil sighs, smiling. After a moment, he gives in, and goes to sit down with Techno and Wil, enjoying their reactions and Wilbur desperately trying to hold back his near crying.
Just a few minutes into them whispering at each other harshly, they’re interrupted with-
“What the fuck are you all doing in my room?”