Work Text:
Tommy is a relatively harmless fae. Well, changeling is more accurate; his mother is a human who fell in love with a fae. It was a whole story in his hometown, his mother not only dating a woman but a fae at that.
Tommy thinks, even now, that the town had more of an with the former if he is being honest. His mother died in childbirth, and the townspeople often blamed it on the fact that Tommy was made from magic, not a typical union.
It didn’t help that he had wings on his back, a constant reminder of what exactly he was.
That he was a fae.
The townspeople shunned him, whispering about him being a devil child and an omen of doom. It is due to that reputation that when the town dealt with a drought, all eyes had turned to him.
At first, they just increased their vitriol, knocking into him when he walked past and no longer letting him work for scraps.
He had been a small, starving boy with scrappy white wings that looked worn from mistreatment.
It makes sense that when the baker lady, who sometimes snuck him treats, offered him food, he took it.
Tommy hadn’t thought about how she acknowledged him less and less, or the odd glint in her eyes as she offered. He was only thinking about the gnawing pain in his stomach and the mouth-watering pastry held out to him.
Even still, Tommy berated his idiocy to this day, the phantom pain weighing on his back a consistent reminder.
She had drugged it, and a few minutes after consuming the delicious treat, Tommy started to go weak.
All he heard was a contentious ‘finally’ before everything went black.
He had woken up tied down, hands on every inch of his body, making his skin crawl.
People yanked at his wings, spurred on by the yelled jeers. It was all very disorienting.
Then, Tommy had felt the worst pain in his life. An axe had been taken to the base of his wings. The white wings didn’t fall in one clean stroke; they hung there, half-severed, clinging by strips of bone and skin.
It took three times for the men to succeed, laughing as they did.
Only then did everyone freeze. A fae, as beautiful as the moon and sky appeared, stealing everybody's breath away, Tommy’s included.
There were yells now for a different reason, red icicles stabbing out of their skin. The women had frozen their blood.
Tommy was still panting on the ground, only half understanding what was transpiring around him. That was until a cold hand grasped his chin, forcing his head up from the ground he lay on.
“It seems I was remiss in letting these fools hold you in their care.”
Tommy hadn’t said it before, but the second he saw the woman with black hair and glittering skin, he knew who she was.
The answer vibrated through his entire being.
This was the fae who made him.
This was his mother.
Well, mother wasn’t exactly the right word, Tommy muses, thinking back. She had made it very clear she felt no maternal instincts towards his existence.
“You are simply the boon your mother asked for; we are not family. But you were hers, and she was mine. For that, I shall gift you this, no strings attached,” her mouth moved oddly, like speech was an inconvenience.
The ropes tying Tommy down disintegrated, as though they were never there.
“Your name is Theseus, guard it well.”
Tommy, Theseus apparently, had felt a well of warmth flood his being as the words were spoken into being.
The blood dribbling down his back crusted over, no longer an open wound.
A True Name gives power to a fae more than any other aspect of the world.
“I will leave you with a piece of advice as well.”
The next words she spoke had shaped much of Tommy’s life.
“You are part fae, remember that. Use that. We may not be family, but there are many ways to accrue your own.”
Tommy is a relatively harmless fae. He only ever used his powers for minor mischief, like when he convinced a colony of ants to trail behind Wilbur when he would not stop ranting on about the evils of ant eaters.
Well. Minor mischief and one other thing.
“Wait, you're telling me that your name isn’t Technoblade, but Techno Blade? Oh my gods, you're a fraud!” Tommy cackled, trailing along behind Techno as they worked on outside chores.
By that, Tommy means Techno Blade, which is so hilarious, does chores while Tommy completes the more important job: giving the animals cuddles.
The brute walks faster, “Bruhhhh, I let you into my home, I feed you, I give you armour, and you repay me by making fun of my name.”
They reach the chicken pen, Tommy jumping over the well-maintained wood fence to access the fluffies.
“Come on, you are telling me this whole time you have been announcing your full government name? Here I thought you just had a badass name.”
Techno grabs the chicken feed and plops it next to Tommy, “I am so sorry my name disappoints you, now make yourself useful and ensure the chickens don’t starve.”
Techno doesn’t sound sorry.
Even so, “I suppose I could forgive this betrayal. After all, it is just another last name for me to steal.”
Pushing off of his hands, Tommy stands up, dumping the food everywhere and watching as dozens of white balls attack the ground.
“I will now be Tommy Big Man Innit Soot Underscore Blade,” He emphasized the genius of his name by sliding his hand over the air as if writing it out.
All Technoblade did was snort, “Don’t put me next to Mr. Government.”
A pout graces his lips, but Tommy concedes, “Ugh, fine, I will switch it around.”
In the second afterward, Tommy utters those words multiple things happen.
One: Magic floods Tommy’s body, choking him with its violence and volatility as it floods into his body.
Two: Tommy and Techno become interlocked, their magic fighting in a war with a foregone conclusion.
Three: Tommy falls to the ground, collapsing.
Four: Techno feels an oddity that he is immediately distracted from, staring in concern at Tommy’s figure.
Tommy was once a relatively harmless fae. He had a decent amount of power for a changeling, but never felt an itch to use it for anything other than minor mischief. Well, minor mischief and the binding of souls.
His creator once gave him advice. She sensed the aching loneliness in his soul, the vicious desire to have something, someone as his own. She sensed it and knew she never wanted a part in it. So, she gave him another way to fulfill the ravenous hunger for a family of his own.
A True Name gives power.
Your own strengthens you.
Another’s lets you pull their strings.
And if you steal one—
The person will be forever yours, yearning for their other half.
Theseus never wanted to be alone, so he promised himself he never would be.
It wasn’t enough for someone to stay. Tommy needed them to yearn for him in the same way.
Tommy was once a relatively harmless fae. Ever since he stole Techno’s name, bound the man to him, that hasn’t exactly been the case.
“Theseus,” the name flows out from Techno’s mouth like he always knew it, “Come here.”
They were standing in the community house, Tommy situated between Techno and the rest of L’manburg.
He didn’t want to do this, of course, he did; they all betrayed him.
He loves Techno, the man is becoming more like a father figure since that whole fainting incident.
He tricked Techno, forcing the man to love him.
He loves Techno, but enough to burn down what is left of L’manburg? What is left of Wilbur? The same thing that hunted his dad down.
“I,” Tommy takes a step towards Tubbo before a wave of anger washes over him, his body feeling as though it were on fire.
Tubbo was a thief. Tubbo betrayed him and gave up his discs to Dream. Tommy wants to watch as the wolves rip Tubbo to shreds, watch as the president cries over his burnt nation. He hates him, he hates him, he hates him. Tommy wants to see Tubbo’s blood.
The indecisiveness flees Tommy’s being, and he walks to Techno with his shoulders held back and his head held strong.
Techno grasps his cheek with a large, callused hand, “What do you want to do?”
Tommy wants to go home. Tommy wants to see Tubbo bleed.
“I want to watch as tragedy follows Tuberculosis Underscore everywhere. He loses everything over and over again. I want to watch him bleed.” Tommy whispers, power laced behind his words.
Automatically, Tubbo starts choking, blood spilling out of his mouth.
“Oh. I also want to go home.”
A smile splits Techno’s face as his eyes glow like when he figures out a complicated puzzle.
“Of course, Thes.”
Techno sighs, a smile on his face as he plays with Tommy’s hair. The boy got tired of running around with the wolf pack and demanded Techno read to him. Not that techno minded, a book already in hand. Once the boy's eyes fluttered shut, he had gently set the book down, pausing to admire his child.
It took Techno a while to figure out what had happened, as embarrassing as it is to admit.
Techno is a god, and a powerful one at that. He doesn’t feel the need to monitor the magic of those around him; in fact, he ignores it most of the time.
When Tommy had passed out that fateful day, Techno assumed the boy was throwing up his meals again. The blonde tried to eat his food, but Techno knew what starvation could do to both the body and mind. It was understandable for there to be setbacks, if a bit frustrating.
It was also understandable that Techno focused more on Tommy. Clearly, the boy needed more support, and Techno was hosting him. So, Techno watched as Tommy ate his meals and used chat to spy on the kid afterwards. Techno put sleeping potions in the hot chocolates he handed the smaller, wanting to avoid more sleepless nights. Techno didn’t let Tommy out of his sight, lest the younger one hurt himself. Techno entertained the boy, building up trust so the blonde didn’t run back to his friends, if they could be called that.
Techno’s day-to-day life started to shift, circling around caring for the boy. He learned all of the boy’s tics and what would get Tommy to do the thing he wanted.
Technoblade observed the way Tommy seemed compelled to do what Techno urged, but figured it was just attachment.
Still, the whole thing was somewhat odd.
It all came to a head at the community house. He watched as Tommy debated joining Tubbo, a possessive anger burning in his chest. Then, the name Theseus slipped out. Techno felt the power that accompanied the name and was shocked into attention.
For the first time in years, Technoblade paused to observe the magic around him and felt his own.
To Techno’s amusement, it was broiling in Tommy.
The pieces started sliding together.
Techno was not a god who got himself attached to mortals.
Tommy, it seemed, was not exactly mortal.
This was confirmed when Tommy laid a curse on Tubbo.
Maybe Techno should be mad. Tommy knew what he was trying to do. He tried to chain Techno down, making him dependent on Tommy to feel whole. The boy even somewhat succeeded.
So, maybe Techno should be mad. But the damage was already done, Techno was already filled with adoration for the blonde.
Besides, the boy made a mistake in choosing Techno. He watches his fingers slide through the blonde’s silky hair before gripping the back of the younger's neck.
He tried to chain a god.
That only ever backfires.
Theseus couldn’t leave him if he tried.
The boy thought he’d trapped him.
How precious.
No, the boy had attached himself to something far older and far more dangerous.
Techno ponders if the boy has an inkling that it has been a whole hundred years since that day.
Probably not, faes always have such a warped sense of time.