Ink Stains (MCYT Oneshots)

[R] Moth's Just Chilling (Tommy-centric)

(A/N: request as a pic. mothinnit pog in the chat?)

It had been two hundred and eighty two days since Tommy had become part of the Soot household. Two hundred and eighty two days since he was picked from the streets after trying to pickpocket the plain, brown haired boy, that seemed like an easy target compared to the pink haired boy with a sword next to him, or the man with the broad, black wings. Two hundred and eighty two  days since he was slowly but surely adopted into the folds of this family.

And yes, Tommy was counting.

To be fair, it still wasn't an 'official' adoption just yet. Tommy didn't remember his origins, and he sure as hell didn't have any official records of his existence. Which was part of the reason his official adoption was taking so long; no matter how much Tommy said that it was okay, the others all insisted on making it official, and getting all the appropriate papers to be able to make what once was a fantasy into reality, and for him to be able to go from Tommy Innit to Tommy Soot-Innit.

Tommy hummed lightly, closing the door with his feet as he stepped into the house, holding a box of cake in his hands. The cake was a gift to him from the nice baker who had set up shop just a few miles away from the Soot household, and Tommy would be lying if he said that he wasn't looking forwards to tasting it. His antennas perked up, and he could tell that he had the house all to himself for today.

'Dad was going to look over some official documents again,' he thought, glancing at the note left on the dining table. 'Wilby and Tech went to visit their friends...'

Tommy smiled, and after a quick detour where he tossed his jacket into the laundry basket, he made his way to find a place to hide the cake.

It wasn't like he wasn't going to share it. It was just that... well, it would be a fun little thing to do, a little prank; Tommy hadn't done much pranking recently, but this would be a good way of starting.

'Is it really pranking if it's technically just hiding things?' he wondered, climbing the stairs, but he quickly dismissed that thought. Technically, he could fly, but sometimes it was nice to take the stairs just once. He was the only one who could do so anyways — Tech and Wilby were both piglin hybrids, which meant that they didn't have any wings, and Dad's wings were too big for him to fly up the stairs.

Tommy stopped at the second floor of the house. Glancing around, he frowned. There weren't any good hiding spots here.

By chance, his gaze wandered up, and an idea popped into his mind. There was an attic in the house, although Tommy had never been there before.

He quickly ran up the stairs, something giddy blooming in him at the thought of getting to see something new. There was a trapdoor that was a bit hard to pry open, but eventually, Tommy managed to push it open, and he climbed up the last few stairs.

Upon stepping into the attic and shutting the trapdoor, his eyes immediately shot upwards, his instincts screaming at him.

His wings snapped outwards, and the box dropped from his hands, landing on the ground with a soft 'thump', and possibly — no, definitely — ruining the cake inside of it.

Not that Tommy cared much for the state of the cake at that moment, not when his eyes were glued to the lone light hanging from the ceiling.

It was a well known fact that moths were drawn to light, and moth hybrids were no different. However, there was probably some sort of relationship between moths and hanging lights, because while Tommy only had a mild compulsion to try and get closer to the light, he had a strong urge to jump for the light and hang from it.

And while Tommy prided himself on being a Big Man, he was still very weak to his instincts.

He leapt for the light, grabbing onto it and pushing himself upwards, wings flapping quickly.

Moth hybrids were incredibly light no matter their size, taking after their full-animal counterparts, and Tommy was no different. He sighed in contentment as he hung from the lone ceiling light, staring intently into the lightbulb. Most other hybrids would've ruined their eyes, but like all hybrids, a moth hybrid's body was made to withstand certain conditions, and this was one of them.

Tommy was free to stare directly into the light all he wanted.

He didn't know how long he was there for, but it was long enough for someone to open the trapdoor.

"Tommy?"

He froze. Slowly, he glanced downwards, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from the light, to meet his brother's eyes.

"...hi, Wilby."