Chapter Text
If you asked Wilbur if he was possessive, he’d say no. Technoblade would say the same about himself, and Phil all the same.
If you asked Tommy, he’d tell you the opposite. Tommy really wanted his own space, he wanted to keep his secrets and he wanted to do things that wasn’t around one of his makeshift brothers or father figure.
When Technoblade was exiled, Tommy felt a small weight being lifted off of his shoulders. While he may not have noticed it then, nor when Phil moved to the arctic with Technoblade but he definitely felt a huge weight leave when Wilbur passed away.
There was no more smoke swirling around his head when he was trying to talk to Wilbur, there was no yelling or fighting, Tommy was free and he was allowed to move and do as he wanted.
When ghostbur arrived in place for Wilbur, Tommy began to miss the smell of ash and the warm smoke that would drift it’s way to Tommy. In it’s place was warm wool, a cold unbrace from his ghost brother and the smell of flowers, salt and copper.
That’s when it began, when Tommy came back from exile. When Dream was now stuck in prison and he was safe, able to finally think.
Tommy curled up in Wilbur’s old trench coat, still reeking with smoke no matter how much Tommy scrubbed at the blood stains and the spots of burns. He breathed in a nose full of smoke, his shoulders relaxing.
One thing Tommy kept after Wilbur died other then some old clothes, were his lighter and cigarettes. Wilbur kept a stash of them, one of the only things that didn’t blow up with L’manburg. He hid them in his house before exile, thinking with false hope that if he ever comes back to life, he may want them.
Tommy never realized how much the smoke that Wilbur blew to his direction during the pogtopia war helped calm Wilbur down until Tommy thought of it.
Knowing that the smoke helped Wilbur calm down, Tommy would also get relaxed. He wouldn’t get into screaming matches when his mouth was full of smoke, that within itself made Tommy calm.
Tommy sat up, Wilbur’s coat still draping around him as he looked around his dirt hut. He stood up, Wilbur’s coat falling off and pooling on his bed, he walked to the railway going under his house.
Taking his pick axe, he pulled up the bottom of the minecraft to reveal packs of cigarettes and a single shiny gold lighter.
He picked them up and lit one, and that was the first day he knew he fucked himself up.
It had become a habit since then. What made a big difference in this habit, though, was Wilbur being revived. Wilbur had came back to life, and with that Tommy spent most of his days at Phil and Techno’s house, where Wilbur convinced him to stay.
Wilbur distracted himself pretty well with Quackity, so Tommy had no reason to worry so much with him. It was now Techno and Phil that he had to hide his habit from now.
When Wilbur would stay over, Tommy would smoke outside of his window, blowing the smoke into the freezing wind. Then, he would throw the the butt under Wilbur’s window, blaming it on him.
Most of the time, Wilbur wouldn’t even remember if he had smoked or not, still being a avid smoker, so he easily took the blame unknowingly for Tommy.
When Wilbur would saunter off for a few weeks, Tommy would go outside to the warmer Fields and make the excuse of seeing a friend of his, or Puffy, or he would collect flowers for Phil and Techno’s respective homes.
Tommy wandered around a golden and green field, scratching his shoe into the dirt and dropping the finished cigarette butt into the tiny dent and burying it under the dirt. He took a deep breath in, putting the lighter into his shoe, making sure it was tucked against his pinkie toe.
He did so, so when he took his shoes off at Techno’s, the lighter couldn’t be seen. He leaned over, picking up a dandelion and twirling it in his fingers. He looked up to see the sun hanging in the sky, walking back up the field and the hill to get to his hidden nether portal to get back to Techno’s and Phil’s.
He found the main pathway to the nether portals and walked into the arctic portal, finding his way onto the other side. He took his coat out of his inventory and equipped it, using a trident he stole from Ranboo to fast travel to Phil’s.
The wind pulled at his hair and clothing, dragging the smell of cigarette smoke off of his clothing. Once he made it to the cabins, he put the trident back into his inventory and stumbled up to Techno’s cabin.
He was welcomed by warm air blowing into his hair, walking in and shutting the door behind him. The smell of fresh soup filled the cabin as he slipped off his shoes and his coat.
“Hey mate, how was your walk?” Phil welcomed, smiling at Tommy. Tommy walked over to Phil, looking in the pot of soup.
“It was good! I’m starving Phil, can we please? Please?” He dragged out the last please, pleading with Phil to eat.
If he ate the soup, Phil nor Techno would smell the smoke on his breath.
“You’re such a raccoon, Tommy. All you do is eat and steal.” Techno ruffed out, sitting at the table. Tommy ran to the table next to Technoblade and leaned in. Techno leaned back and watched him.
“I’m not a raccoon! I’m the biggest man you’ve ever and will ever meet!” Tommy exclaimed, wincing slightly at the fact that Techno’s snout twitched.
“Tommy, back up. You smell like Wilbur.” Techno pushed Tommy back, making Tommy slouch in his his chair that he sat on.
“I was in Las Nevada’s today. I decided to see Big Q because I haven’t seen him in a while. Check up on the good o’l duck, you know?” Tommy watched as Phil placed a bowl of soup under his and Techno’s noses.
“Was Wilbur there?” Phil asked, looking at Tommy questioningly. Tommy shook his head.
“Just me and big Q.” Tommy stated, sitting down and eating the soup greedily. Phil hummed as he watched Tommy eat down the soup he made.
“My crows have been dropping cigarette butts at my front door lately. I’m assuming they’re following you to see Wilbur and Quackity?” Phil asked, Tommy stopping his eating.
“I can’t fly big man, they aren’t loud. I don’t hear them.” He stated, picking up the bowl and drinking the rest of his soup. Phil hummed as he grabbed a bowl full of soup and started eating.
“Well, Wilbur does smoke in his room. Tommy did go in there to grab something before he left, maybe that’s why he smells like smoke.” Phil stated, looking over at Techno from across the table.
Techno huffed and got himself a second bowl, allowing Tommy space to excuse himself to get to his room. Tommy flopped down on his bed, wrapping his arms around Wilbur’s old coat. As much as he didn’t like what Wilbur had become, he had still enjoyed being around him and engulfing himself in the warm coat. The possessive bastard had a habit of now drowning Tommy with clothes that were warm, smelling of Wilbur instead of smoke.
Just like how Techno covered Tommy in gold, and how Phil would brush Tommy’s hair with a gold brush and snuggle with him in a nest of pillows, blankets and the three possessive members old sweaters.
Tommy shuffled up out of his bed, opening his closet and grabbing one of Wilbur’s old sweaters. This one Wilbur did have a habit of smoking in, the smell of smoke and the dingy yellow colour stickers to it no matter how much he scrubbed away at it with soap.
He pulled off his sweater and his shirt, pulling Wilbur’s yellow one over his head instead. Tommy kneeled on his floor, scuffling around the clothes that were on the bottom of his closet. He pulled at a floor board, groaning when he gave it a tug and it didn’t open.
He tugged again harder and the fake nails shot out of the plank, avoiding Tommy. He stifled a scream, panting from the scare. He sat down and wiped at the sweat on his forehead.
“Next time I’m not pushing in the fake nails. Stupid piece of wood.” Tommy croaked.
He leaned forward again and pulled the board to the side, seeing the open space of under his boards being filled with packs of cigarettes that were running out. When Tommy first moved into Phil’s, to hide from Dream, he had about half a hundred or so packs stacked away under the board.
Now he only had one and a half packs left, even though it was only a year and a little since he started smoking. And significantly less then when he had started smoking.
Tommy chewed on his bottom lip anxiously, reaching for the half open box, only to hear a knock at his door. He jumped, quickly pushing the board back into place. He closed his closet quietly and walked to his door, opening it.
Phil smiled at him and titled his head, his eyes going soft at the sight of Tommy. Tommy could tell he was holding back from scooping him up and holding him in his nest, growling, chirping and scratching anyone who came close to his precious hatchling.
“Wilbur’s going to be here by nighttime rolls around, I was wondering if you wanted to have dessert with us when he gets here?” Tommy nodded.
“That wasn’t any need to scare me by using your stupid quiet bird feet to walk to my door and knock on it amidst my very important thinking, Philza minecraft.” Tommy groaned.
Phil let out a soft laugh and he pushed the blonde hair from Tommy’s eyes. He pulled him into a tight hug, lovingly kissing his golden hair.
“I’m sorry hatchling, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ll send Techno next time.” Phil mumbled to Tommy, whining when Tommy pushed him off lightly.
“Right bossman. Definitely came out of a egg like a dragon!” Tommy huffed out, smacking Phil’s hands away from his hair. Phil laughed again, walking down the hallway to leave Tommy alone and to possibly get the house ready for Wilbur.
It seemed that Phil had to baby proof certain things in the house to keep Wilbur from doing something stupid in his outbursts, much like Tommy had to do in pogtopia. All Tommy had to do now was wait for Wilbur.