Archive of Our Own ^beta

Techno flares his wings. His voice is deep, gravelly, it shakes the room. Tommy vibrates as he stares at the scene playing out in front of him. The dark greens and grays of the simulated forest make Techno’s vivid pink hair stand out. The long braid falls over his shoulder. His orange and brown wings send a burst of wind through the studio. Tommy clutches his script so that it doesn’t fly away.

He stares in awe, unaware of how to process anything going on. The hanging vines and damp look of the set were all fake. It seems so real, he’s caught up in the moment, he’s watching history unfold in front of his face. He’s part of one of the most highly anticipated feature films of the year. He’s watching as it’s put together.

He’s watching his idols play out the scene he had read in the script only a few hours earlier. It’s incredible to say the least. Wilbur presses his own white spotted wings to his back, feigning fear. Though Tommy himself could feel real fear coursing through his veins. It mixes with excited adrenaline that buzzes under his skin. The way that Techno can capture a moment is unparalleled, critics praise his skills unlike any other.

His bloody red eyes sparkle with malice. He tilts his head and takes a step forward. Wilbur takes a step back, he shrinks on himself. “I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge here.” Techno’s hand drifts to the prop sword that’s sheathed at his hip.

Tommy’s gaze trails to where Phil sits in a tree. He’s hidden, his clothes blending in just enough so that it was believable that Techno wouldn’t see him, but still enough contrast that the cameras could pick him up easily. He watches as Phil tilts his head, smiling at what was happening in front of him.

Philza Craft was playing the traitor, his character is going to turn on Techno Blade’s who is the villain. He’s going to get Wilbur Soot’s character to turn and join the hero. That’s the exciting part, at least for Tommy. Because out of everyone who auditioned, out of every single big name teen actor, Tommy got cast as the hero. He had booked the odd commercial here or there, but this is his first big break. The casting directors were criticized for casting him on social media, but that didn’t dissuade Tommy, not at all.

Wilbur stares at the ground, he doesn’t dare make eye contact with Techno. Tommy can feel the contempt radiating from him. He can feel the way that Wilbur hates in that moment. “You are.” Wilbur spits out, laced with venom.

Techno draws his fake sword, pressing the tip to Wilbur’s throat. He forces Wilbur to make eye contact, to stare into his soul. “You are? I think you’re forgetting something.”

Wilbur swallows his fear, legs trembling, voice shaking he replies, “You’re in charge, sir.”

Techno smiles as he sheaths his sword. He turns his back on Wilbur and walks off set, content with the outcome. Wilbur doesn’t move, he stares at the spot that Techno once stood. He puffs out his dappled wings, frowning, eyes furrowed. As soon as he’s off stage Techno holds an L to his forehead to antagonize Wilbur, though his 

“Sir my ass,” he hisses. “Our numbers are dwindling, people are dying and this son of a bitch doesn’t care.” He kicks the dirt, scowling and grumbling under his breath. “Oh but, it’s fine right? It’s fine because little old Everett will take care of it. I swear to the gods he’s going to die and I am not going to be sorry.” Wilbur too storms off.

Tommy watches as the cameraman zooms in on Philza, he’s kicking his legs and leaning back. He sits on a branch with the brightest grin on his face. He jumps off, shaking the ground as he lands.

“Well then Cyber, I guess the tables are turning. Your reign ends soon.”

Puffy stands up from her chair next to Tommy. “Cut!” Everyone breaks and the atmosphere is no longer filled with fake tension. Tommy is vibrating in his chair, if he had the ability he'd be bouncing off the walls. They were filming one of his scenes next and he didn’t think the excitement from filming would ever dwindle.

He loves everything about working on a film. He loves the crew, he loves the scripts, he loves hanging out with the rest of the cast. He loves the way that everyone is so focused on putting together the best show possible. The energy was infectious. The onset food is always delicious, and the older members are so nice to him.

The director, Puffy Captain, has won Oscars for her productions and he was exhilterated to be working under her. She’s accommodating, and constantly making sure all of her actors are okay. She’s on top of things and runs on a strict schedule but still somehow manages to keep things stress free, relatively so anyways.

Wilbur launches himself from the set and tackles Techno. “You fucker.”

Techno laughs and Tommy stares in awe. He’s watched every single movie that Techno has ever been in. He’s been a fan for as long as he can remember. He cheered as he watched Techno win an Oscar on the telly. He hides his twitter fan account with a bit of embarrassment staining the tip of his ears pink. He’s now working with Techno. He’s being featured as Techno’s enemy.

So cool.

Techno shoves Wilbur off of him as he stretches out. He keeps his wings pressed flat against his back. “Get good,” is all he says.

Puffy claps her hands together. The rest of the team is already setting up for the next scene. “Good job guys, we might do another take a bit later but let’s keep going. I’m liking the energy.” She looks down at Tommy, “Go get touch ups and grab Purpled and Ranboo while you’re at it.”

“Aye Aye, Captain,” Tommy salutes. The scene they’re filming next is Tommy and his group running into Techno on the streets. From what Tommy can tell there’s supposed to be a lot of tension. It’s not a high action scene but that's what makes it fun, there's a lot of fun technical stuff you can do to make the scene come alive.

Puffy laughs under her breath.

Tommy makes his way to make up, the room is one of the brightest in the studio. There’s not a lot he needs done for the scene but he finds both Purpled and Ranboo hanging out. There’s a bit of a downside to this entire ordeal. Tommy isn’t the shortest person in the cast or crew, however, out of the main group he is. And everyone loves to tease him about it.

Case and point he sits down in his makeup chair and Purpled uses his head as an armrest. “Bitch,” Tommy hisses out.

“Oh I’m so intimidated. They’re done filming that one scene?” Purpled removes his arm and high fives Ranboo.

Antennae twitch on top of Purpleds head. Getting over the antennae was the easy part, the hard part was getting over how Purpled has three sets of eyes. That’s right, three sets of eyes. He’s an alien, not from a different planet or anything, he just is. Some sort of mutation in a normal human family line is how he explained it.

“Yep, they’re setting up right now.” Tommy chews on the inside of his cheek, talking to Purpled is still weird. It’s still… intimidating? It’s not just the three sets of eyes or the height or anything like that, it’s the fact that Purpled is experienced . And despite how anxious Ranboo always seems to be, so are they. They’re both working on their third or fourth feature length film.

“Is this the one where we’re fucking up Techno a bit?” Ranboo holds up their fists, pretending to fight an invisible foe.

Hannah, one of the lead makeup artists comes over and does some minor touch ups. It’s nothing major, just adding a bit more blush and concealer. It honestly does wonders, the camera’s will be up in his face so it needs to look like he didn’t miss a week of sleep waiting for the email that would make or break his entire year.

“Naw, mate,” Tommy twitches his nose. “It’s the lamer one. The one where we’re like, staring each other down.”

Ranboo sighs dramatically, face palming as he helps Tommy out of the chair. “Unfortunate. I’d  have to say that showing up Techno would be fun, even if it’s just pretend.”

The studio is kept on the colder side, for good reason. That is to say that’s often too drafty to walk around without some sort of jumper on. Like a suit of armor Tommy pretends that it can protect him. He pulls his jumper tighter as he takes a steadying breath. He knew his lines and if he didn’t they could retape the scene. Everyone is more than understanding of what it’s like to be on your first step, that didn’t stop Tommy from seeing judging eyes where they didn’t exist.

Despite Tommy and Techno playing opposing roles they hadn’t actually filmed scenes together yet. They had been filming some of the easier scenes that weren’t intense fighting scenes, nor the special effect heavy scenes. Those took more effort and more people to put together.

The excited energy fades maybe to something more nervous. Purpled and Ranboo are joking between each other, flanking Tommy on either side. Ranboo’s enderian which means he’s tall, taller than Purpled and way taller than Tommy. The fucker needs to be knocked down a peg. They seem more like body guards than costars, yet they’re just as important as Tommy is.

Everyone is important, Tommy wishes that the extra’s and the crew got more credit, but their names would be grouped together. 

Still, it was something to know that he’s protected on all sides. He’s shielded from imaginary harsh glares and waiting gazes. There’s expectations. There’s expectations for him to be as good as everyone else. Puffy assures him that her and the hiring director wouldn’t have booked him if they didn’t think he could handle it. It did little to dissuade churning anxiety.

The energy is exciting though. He see’s Techno talking to Wilbur and Phil on one side of the scene. Tommy, Ranboo, and Purpled are ushered to the other side. They all knew what to do, having read through the script, but they were getting further instructions. Tommy runs through his lines in his head, gearing up for the scene.

They were to talk down the street and bump into Techno. From there they were to standoff, Purpled was supposed to throw some curses and then Ranboo was supposed to almost attack Techno. Tommy’s supposed to be the calm one in the scene. He’s supposed to be witty and quick and level headed. He can do that. He knows he can. He’ll just be acting with his idol for the first time ever.

Tommy’s ears flick around, the annoying fucks. Better than an elephant hybrid he supposes. They give him away too much sometimes. His tail wraps around his leg. Purpled shoves him light-heartedly. He smiles and Tommy unwinds his tail, forcing a smile on his face.

“You’re going to do fine,” Purpled says.

“Yeah, just remember that Techno is going to pig out on the buffet table tonight. Imagine him with shrimp cocktails at the big charity banquet coming up,” Ranboo adds on. “Plus, retakes. Bloopers exist for a reason.”

“Right…” Tommy isn’t totally convinced, but he’s not not convinced. Which means something, surely. He takes another deep breath and looks to Puffy who’s sitting in her director's chair.

Wilbur takes his seat and Phil sits next to them. Tommy makes eye contact and wants to shrivel up and die. He can’t though, because honestly that would be a lot of hustle for the others and would delay the movie. He puts on a brave face.

Puffy holds up her hand. “Ready, Camera’s roll, and…” She smiles. “Action.”

Purpled struts onto the scene first, across the way Techno is pretending to be on his phone, walking idly through the mass of extra’s. “Okay, but how lame is the homecoming theme this year?”

“They just don’t want to rent out a venue, that’s why it’s enchanted garden,” Ranboo says. “That way they can just decorate the statue garden and call it good.”

Tommy rolls his eyes, “Are you kidding? It’s not like it actually matters. After all, it’s not like we’ll be able to go this year.”

The cityscape around them is decorated to the nines. The concrete had holes in it, the buildings were old and weathered, some were pristine and there was no show of age. The sky’s a bright blue with fake sunlight illuminating the day. Tommy grins, though it’s a bit melancholy. Homecoming, now that’s something neither his character or he as a person will get to see. He stares down at his hand and flexes it.

To build a world that you wish to live in. His character does it through superpowers that could defeat villains. Tommy Innit did it through long nights and head shots. He takes a deep breath, staring back up at Purpled and Ranboo with a bright smile empty of all contemplation.

Each action was measured, each expression is intentional. Every step is calculated and every darting glance was specific. There isn’t anything that Tommy isn’t totally in control of when he’s on a set. He knows how to make his character seem real, he knows how to immerse himself in the story being told.

For a few minutes he is Lynn. He goes to high school and he’s best friends with Markus and Ellis. For a few minutes he leaves the shitty real life and goes to a world where he worries about defeating supervillains. Which admittedly seems a bit easier than dealing with stan twitter, those people are vicious. Despite the shiver that rises in his spine he doesn’t show it.

The tree’s are full and blooming. Tommy takes a deep breath, it’s supposedly summer in the movie. He turns around, walking backwards as he addresses Purpled and Ranboo. “Let’s just have fun, it’s the weekend. No school, no homework, and no super-” Tommy stumbled forward.

He turns around. He has to look up, and when he says up he means up. He’s been close to Techno before, but never so close that he was running into him. Tommy takes a stuttering step backwards. Tommy only reaches up to Techno’s waist . There’s no fucking way.

Except there is, and Tommy hates it. Techno flares his wings and the irrational part of his brain screams to run away. He can’t, he’s in the middle of a filming. He’s got lines to say.

“Excuse us,” Purpled says. He looks Techno up and down, eyes darting to the wings that Techno uses to make his stature even larger than it actually is. He takes in a deep breath as Ranboo sticks his arms out in front of both of them. “Blood god…”

“C’mon,” Techno sighs. “I’m supposed to be out doing errands.”

Tommy’s ears flick back. He stares at Techno, stares at the large wings and the way his nails come to an unnatural point. He looks at how fucking tall Techno is and he wants to shrink back. He wants to hide to cower. His brain tells him to run. His instincts scream of a predator. It’s worse when Techno makes eye contact with Tommy and leans down a little.

It’s all an act, he has to remind himself. It’s not real.

Techno blows out hot air. It tickles Tommy’s face and causes that anxiety to come back full force, almost knocking the wind out of him. Techno sneers. “Oh, it’s you three. Funny meeting you out here.” He leans back, sticking his hands in his pocket.

“If you’re not careful we’ll take you out,” Purpled says. “Right here, right now.”

Ranboo raises his fists, narrowing his eyes. Even Ranboo isn’t tall enough to do anything against Techno. Techno is still a whole fucking foot taller than them. There goes the minimal protection Tommy’s hind brain thought they had. 

Techno only laughs under his breath in response.

Tommy wants to curl up and perish. He hates it. He hates it so much. He hates how small he feels. He hates how big everything is. He hates how he wouldn’t be able to run away if Techno had his hands on him. But at the same time, woah . That’s the Techno Blade. That’s the guy that Tommy’s been looking up to for years. That’s the same guy who got Tommy into acting, and he’s standing right there.

“What’s so funny?” Ranboo asks. And it’s not without merit to say that Ranboo is one hell of an actor. Tommy knows that Ranboo stays up pouring over the scripts as much as Tommy does. He knows that Ranboo gets as worked up as he does. Yet on set, while the camera is rolling, there’s nothing that Ranboo can’t do. Their voice is low, it’s mildly terrifying.

“You haven’t figured it out yet? You really are pathetic child-”

“We can’t attack him,” Tommy says. He actually manages to get his voice to work. He manages to say what he needed to when he needed to say it. He balls his trembling fingers into fists at his side, staring up at Techno with vengeance. “Then again you can’t attack us either.”

“That’s the thing though, isn’t it?” A breeze sweeps through the fake street. Fake branches blow in the wind. “I don’t mind having my identity blown, yet you? You do. You also care about the people here, I don’t.”

Ranboo lowers their fists, “So what? We just let him do whatever he wants?”

“L-”

Tommy whips his head and Purpled stops mid word. “Dagger, I think you’re forgetting who you’re in company with.” His eyes are wide and Tommy has to bite back a laugh. It’s ridiculous.

“Riot, we can’t let him get away with whatever!” Purpled argues.

Hypothetically if they were on a bridge, and Tommy had a choice, Tommy would choose jumping off the bridge over having to talk to Techno. He wants to curl up in a ball. As pathetic as it sounds he wants his mum or dad to reassure him. All in all he needs to get the scene done and over with. He hides his trembling voice, he stops his shaking hands. He faces the problem head on, which for the tiny mouse that likes to take over his brain sometimes seems like a horrible idea

“It’s not like he can do anything either.” Tommy glares up at Techno. It’s not all that intimidating, how even on his tiptoes he barely reaches the bottom of Techno’s ribs. It’s not intimidating but it’s what he’s working with. 

Techno smiles, it’s a dangerous sort of smile. It’s toothy, showing Tommy how fucking sharp his teeth actually were. And Jesus Christ if that didn’t make him want to cover his head and shrink behind his friends he’d be lying. His heart races, it beats and echoes in his ears.

“He doesn’t care though! You heard him! Riot-”

Tommy takes a deep breath. Just a few more lines. Just a few more lines and then he can have a quiet anxiety attack in his trailer. Just a few more lines and it’d be fine. Just a few more lines. He repeats the mantra as Ranboo and Purpled argue amongst themselves about how their group should take action. Tommy continues to stare at Techno, meeting an inquisitive gaze.

“Why do you think that, oh brilliant Riot? What gives you the idea that I won’t level the city right. Now?” Techno punches at all the right words. He looks down his nose at Tommy, he doesn’t lower his head.

“Because you have some sort of twisted honor system. Your win would mean nothing if it wasn’t against us in ‘battle’.” Tommy’s tongue is numb in his mouth. His throat is drying, words catching on briar bushes that seem content to make his life hell.

“Touche, Touche Riot. I guess then, you live to see another day. And so does this city. Next time we meet? It’ll be in battle. And your head will roll.”

Tommy, now Tommy isn’t an idiot. Nor does he ever claim to be one, however for a split second he believes Techno. For a split second he forgets that he’s on a set, that the lights shining down on him isn’t the afternoon sun. Techno turns around and Tommy collapses onto the ground. That wasn’t scripted but he can play it off.

He gasps for air. Ignoring the scrape and sting that comes from his palms. For a split second he thought that Techno would actually have his head. All he see’s in his minds eye is Techno’s talons trailing along his neck, drawing blood.

“Lynn?” Purpled plays along with the improv. He indulges, helping Tommy stand up all while glaring at Techno’s receding figure. Tommy wipes his hands on his pants, he rips his arm away from Purpled and walks near one of the buildings.

“That bastard is dead ,” he hisses. Something knowing flashes in Ranboo’s eyes. Tommy isn’t going to pay attention to it. He’s going to ignore how Ranboo might see right through him. For a moment it’s all an act, the fear that courses like fire through his veins– it’s all an act.

“Scene!” Puffy yells. She’s smiling. “Great job everyone! We have a few more scenes to record today, but Kristins arrived with lunch. Enjoy! You all deserve it!”

Everyone else goes to the free food, the sandwich platters that were bought at the local supermarket. Tommy avoids it, he rushes to his trailer. He has a few hours at most to himself. He has a few hours to get out of his own head. He has a few hours to pretend like he’s not terrified of one of his co-stars. He slams the door closed and slides down until his knees are steepled.

He buries his head in his arms. Hot tears roll down his face. Quiet sobs rack his body. He’s so stupid. He can’t even get some sort of primitive instincts under control. He’s a failure and everyone will see it. People will pick apart the scene and figure out that he wasn’t faking the way that he stuttered back. He wasn’t acting. He was terrified.

The worst part is that a small part of his brain still thinks that Techno is going to kill him. A part of him wants to run and hide. He wants to never come out of his trailer. His ears flick, pinning to his head. Heat rises to his cheeks. He’s no super god actor, he doesn’t understand why he of all people was cast as the main character.

God's, god. He’s pathetic.

______________

Tommy’s listening to his music on the empty set. Every Friday is an off day, something about needing breaks. Days off are beneficial according to some study or another. It’s also fair to say that some of the hybrids are more accustomed to more nocturnal sleep schedules and they need a day to be ‘normal’. Tommy likes the set when no one else is on it.

It’s haunted, almost. The lights are off, the equipment isn’t manned. Each seat is empty. Tommy can visualize people in all of them. He smiles, thinking of the difference. The people are what brings the studio to life. His hands trail along a wire that’s taped to the ground. It’s a mess, but an organized mess. It’s a nice mess.

It’s a mess that speaks of hard work. The mess is a testament to how much they’ve done, and how much they have left to do. There’s not a microphone out of place. There’s not a camera that they haven’t used. Tommy is in awe of it all. The way it sparkles, pristine yet touched. It’s not perfect, but it’s their perfect. Perfect isn’t always clean makeup looks and conventional tidiness. Perfect can be a camera forgotten to be packed away and a microphone that’s laying on its side.

Tommy likes people. He also likes to be alone. There’s less social expectation. There’s less cues, less socializing. It’s needed downtime where he doesn’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing or making the wrong sort of face. For all his acting abilities, he’s pretty shit at getting through a normal conversation. 

“Tommy!”

Tommy jumps out of his chair, flinging back what seems like five feet. The deep voice thunders and shakes the floor. Tommy looks up, heart racing and pounding in his ears.

“Jesus Christ, man, give a guy a warning maybe.”

Techno smiles still, offering Tommy a hand up. Tommy takes it, albeit a bit hesitant. He feels the sharp point of talons, though they don’t pierce his skin it’s a bit too close for comfort. They’re near a main artery, they can easily slice the thin skin. They don’t, and that eases the mouse that runs in circles in Tommy’s head.

“Sorry.” Techno laughs under his breath. It’s a warm sort of laugh, something that Tommy hadn’t realized. “I guess I just got excited. Listen, I was just wondering if you wanted to grab lunch with me today? I know a really cool small cafe that would be a ton of fun.”

Tommy shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. Or at least, his brain tells him he shouldn’t. His brian tells him to stay six feet away and to have his guards up. However, his brain  tells him that having lunch with his actual idol is a dream come true. In the end the fanboy part of his brain wins out. It’s not much of a conversation, but that damned mouse is still on high alert and will not calm down. It doesn’t seem like it has a plan either.

“Sure!” Tommy slips his earbuds back into his pocket and texts Puffy about where he’s going. She was extra careful about her younger actors. Puffy texts back and gives him the okay. “Lead the way then, Big T.”

Tommy beams. There’s a pet in his step even if the hestitance is still itching in the back of his head. Techno isn’t that scary. Tommy reassures himself that malfunctioning instincts don’t happen often. People have the tendency to win out over their more animalistic traits, which means Tommy’s both not in the normal but also on the safer side.

“I wanted to say that you’re a natural!” Techno pushes open the door and a cold breeze floods the two of them. Techno extends one of his wings to act as a barrier, wrapping Tommy up in warmth indescribable. It was both a protection but also something deeply unsettling. He couldn’t fight the way that his brain assumes the worst. His mind tells him that it’s a nice gesture, but also one that puts Techno in control of the situation. He can’t run even if he wants to.

Tommy’s face heats up. “Thanks, I uh- I… thanks, yeah.” He didn’t think that he was a natural. He didn’t think that he’s anything special. He’s just a guy, a guy who’s living his dream. Techno’s complimenting him.

The realization strikes him, knocking the wind out of him. Techno’s actually complimenting him. Him . They’re talking, and Techno thinks he's talented and skilled and his idol thinks highly of him. Tommy starts flapping his hands, not sure how else to process the emotions.

Techno tilts his head, “you okay?”

“No, yeah, just, need to process emotions. All positive, just a lot of them. Holy shit.”

Tommy has analyzed so many of Techno’s movies. He’s broken down interviews and has binged artiles. He’s watched so many late night shows. And now Techno is asking if he’s okay? Dream come true. Fuck the movie, Tommy’s lived his life. He doesn’t need anything else.

The town that the studio is in is a smaller one, it’s nice. It borders a forest that they used to film some of the bigger outside scenes. The smaller ones they use a set for, but a set can’t really stand in for the real thing. The tree’s were on the verge of sleeping for the winter. Autumn stung the air, late summer fading to early fall. It’s a decent transitional period of time. Tommy’s more partial to the winter to summer change, but Autumn is such a pretty season.

The stores are single floored. The houses are more aligned to suburbia than the city where Tommy comes from. Each house comes complete with a lawn and a tree, and it’s a simple life Tommy thinks. He follows the cracked concrete, staying tucked close to Techno’s wing. He’s smiling.

“I never could have done something like this when I was your age,” Techno pulls out his phone.  He slides it back in his pocket a second later. He doesn’t stop his pace, though he slows down a bit when he notices how fast Tommy has to move to keep up.

Tommy pins his ears to the back of his head and flicks his tail. It’s a bit embarrassing. It’s a nice gesture, don't get him wrong, just one that plays on all of Tommy’s biggest insecurities but it’s nothing, really. He’s fine. He doesn’t want to hole up in his room and never see the light of day again, why would you think that?

“It’s a bit much,” Tommy admits.

 Between the suffocating self doubt and the constant media criticism it was easy to get lost in it all. Tommy found himself in a bit of a rough situation when he decided to take the role. He likes it, and it’s a great experience on set… but behind the scenes the anxiety churns like a storm, it threatens to pull him under. He’s not sure he knows what to do, how to navigate the murky waters or how to survive the pounding rain that floods his life.

Tommy just wants to breathe.

“That’s one of the reasons I wanted to do this actually. The lunch together I mean. This is your first movie right?” Techo asks as if it’s that simple. He asks as if Tommy isn’t actually shaking at the notion of his ineptitude.

It is his first movie. It’s his first time on a big set. It’s his first time doing anything really in this kind of professional setting and he shakes a bit at the idea of being the worst on the cast. He doesn’t want to make the others look bad. He doesn’t want to be the reason the movie flops. He doesn’t want to be the one bad thing, he doesn’t want to fail everyone.

“Is it that obvious?”

Techno pauses. Chewing on his words as they round the corner. “No, not at all. And that’s not what I’m getting at. You’re great, kid, your improv too? Killer. I… I didn’t have anyone to help me with my first movie.”

Tommy tilts his head. “Didn’t you have Phil?”

“I met him on my third or fourth set, even then he was just as new as I was. The young actor thing is hard, and I get that. I just wanted to tell you that I’m here. If you need me I’m here for you. Interview, social media, lines, whatever. If you need me I’m a call away.”

It’s easy to look past the sharpened teeth and elongated nails out in the clear blue sky. The sun shines over them and beams down. It shies away for a few moments behind wispy white clouds that pepper the sky. It makes something heavy lift from his chest, the idea that he has help. Of course he’s not sure that his mouse brain would love it if Tommy called for Techno in a moment of anxiety, but it’s the thought that counts.

“Big T, I could die right now.” Now there’s a lot of things that Tommy could have said that would have been more eloquent. Prose has never been his strong suit, more fitted for reading a script then writing the flowery words on the page. He’s a fumble with words and can never quite reach what he wants to say.

“Please don’t, Puffy would get on my case and she’s awesome but you do not want to get a lecture from her.” Techno leads them down a small gravel path to the front of a bakery. Tommy recognizes the logo from a lot of their catering boxes. “Also, why?”

“It’s nothing, not a big deal.” Tommy is determined to admit to it having been a dream of his to talk to Techno about a year ago. That’s a secret he’s taking with him to the grave.

“There has to be more to it, c’mon kid you’ve got me curious now.”

“Nope.”

The Bakery’s quaint. It’s small but has in store seating. A fireplace flickers with licking warmth and fanning flames, made of red and copper colored bricks. The booths were covered with thin pink faux leather. The tables are a darker type of wood, which adds to the homely vibes. Fairy lights hang from the ceiling, and most of the fluorescents are dimmed. There's a few older people at the bar, sipping on coffee of all things. There’s a display case with different sweet treats. The menu is vast and overloads Tommy with options.

“Techno!” The attendant says.

Techno waves hello as he approaches the register. “Nice to see you again, Niki.”

Niki is a bit taller than Tommy is. Her hair is perhaps a shade lighter than Techno’s and her eyes are a kind of hazel. She wears a brown shirt that has a whtie collar sticking out from under it. An apron with the bakery logo is wrapped around her waist and she has one of the kindest smiles that Tommy has ever seen. It’s genuine. It’s real. It’s disarming in all of the worst ways and Tommy isn’t quite sure if that’s a good or bad thing.

“Your regular?” Niki starts punching in numbers, she hasn’t noticed Tommy yet. It makes familiar dread creep into his stomach, churning his insides and setting his thoughts ablaze with spiraling notions of inferiority.

“Yeah, and something for the kid too.” Techno nudges Tommy forward with a wing.

“Oh sorry,” Niki shakes her head. “Was in my head I guess, Tommy right? What’ll you have?” Tommy… maybe shouldn’t be surprised that Niki knows his name. He still is. It doesn’t seem like there’d be a reason for her to know? Niki recognizes the confused look and holds up her hand. A wedding band sits gleaming on one of her fingers. “Puffy likes to talk.”

“Oh… OH! Oh my god.” Tommy didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that. Good for them. Good for them. 

Niki laughs. “Yep. She has a lot of good things to say about you, and about the project as a whole. You should hear her before she goes to bed. So your order?”

__________

Things aren’t super eventful for most of filming. They’re getting closer and closer to the final confrontation that’s held between just Techno and Tommy. It’s been easy though. Easy and a bit hectic. As that final confrontation nears Tommy’s instincts start going haywire. They’re always harder to control the more worked up you are, and Tommy is everything including worked up. Which doesn’t work well.

It means that every time that Tommy has to film a scene with Techno, it’s met with anxiety and thoughts of death that spiral until he’s feeling physically nauseas. It doesn’t help that Techno’s one goal in the scenes is to antagonize Tommy. Every taunting comment, every glaring work, it just makes those visions of bloody death worse. It quickens his breaths and hurries his heart until it feels like it’s going to explode.

He’s fine though. He’s really fine.

He’s sitting in his trailer with Purpled and Ranboo and Tubbo. Tubbo, who works in special effects and props in an internship under Sam who’s their head for that type of stuff. Tubbo is great because he has no clue what it’s like to be an actor, so it’s easy enough to rant to him about stuff. Tubbo also likes to cause a plethora of problems, so Tommy found himself getting along maybe too well with the intern.

Tubbo has horns that grow out of his head and a tufted tail that sweeps dust around on the studio floor. He wears a dark green hoodie and jeans for the most part. He’s also insistent on running a behind the scenes account on all the social media.

“Ten dollars says he won't,” Purpled mutters.

Ranboo grins. “Twenty says he does.”

Tommy looks at an eager and expecting Tubbo. He glances back at Purpled and Tommy, cursing under his breath. “Fine, I’ll do it. A single video though, that is all. Okay?”

Purpled groans, but he forks over the cash. Ranboo pockets the cash, and leans back on the couch. Purpled collapses deeper into the beanbag. Tubbo pulls out his phone, flying over to where Tommy sits under his loft bed, he’s at the desk with math work that they were assigned. The glorious life of a teen actor, school and line memorization… so much fun.

“You won’t regret this.”

“I will. Purpled and Ranboob have to join in too. That’s my caveat. Also, if I say you dont post. You don’t post, okay?”

Social media is a fickle thing. Tommy has tried his best to avoid the worst of it, but sometimes you’re trying to respond to your friends back home and open the wrong dm and suddenly you’re reading a very detailed death threat to both you and your family because you got the role the stan wanted their favorite to get. That’s not a fun experience. Not to mention the articles that pop up as ads on his feed about “rising novice actor”. It’s impossible to filter out all of it.

It’s a real bugger that stabs you in the heart and then twists, uncaring if it manages to infect your heart. The thoughts get in your head, plaguing your ideas and self value. You start to believe the words that are written without care for the person they’re targeted to.

Tubbo holds up the phone and films. “Right, Tommy Innit, you’re playing Lynn, the main hero of the movie, how does that feel?”

“Brilliant. It feels nice to be able to work with other skilled and talented actors at my side. It feels great to have hard work and a shit ton of dedication pay off.” It’s not a formal interview, but it’s probably good practice. After the release Tommy knows that he’ll be booking interviews and late night shows, or at least that’s what his agent warned him to prepare for.

“A question from @LoreLvjy on twitter, how does it feel to work alongside Techno Blade and the others.”

Tommy smiles. “It’s so fucking cool man. I get to work with people I looked up to not even a few months ago. Now they’re some of my closest friends. Purpled and Ranboo are fucking sick and I was gawking at their skills like, yesterday.”

Purpled coos from his corner. Tubbo turns the camera to face Ranboo and Purpled. They laugh and high five. Tubbo pans the camera back to Tommy who’s holding up the middle finger.

“What were your plans before you booked the role?”

“I wanted to try to get involved in the film industry somehow, you know? Like if it wasn’t as an actor I’d try to become a director or a cameraman, something cool and fun and involved. I just really like the vibes of working in the studio.”

Tubbo nods. “Another question from twitter. @Chainlocker71 asks if there’s anyone in the cast or crew that you just can’t stand?”

Tommy thinks it over for a moment. He meets Purpleds gaze, and they have some sort of nonverbal fight through narrowed eyes and head tilts. “I don’t-” Purpled holds up a sign, where he got it Tommy doesn’t know. It reads ‘Purpled for lead role’. “Actually yeah, I can’t stand Purpled. He wakes me up in the middle of the night asking me what I want on a snack run. It’s three am, and he’s going for a jog . I swear to gods he's not human.”

“That’s cause I’m not!” and his attanae twitch as if to prove a point.

Tommy rolls his eyes, Tubbo laughs under his breath. “Next question Tubbs, time is money and I do not have enough of it.”

There’s a slew of normal questions, like a high school get to know you day. Except he’s not sharing the same five facts about himself with people he’s known since he was six. He’s addressing the entire internet, which is a bit overwhelming. Nothing he can’t handle though. He has to handle it. He doesn’t really have a choice, does he?

His favorite color, favorite restaurant, things like that. Tommy ends up laughing and throws a pillow at Ranboo at one point. It’s fun, it’s relaxing. It’s a great way to spend a lazy friday. Though his heart plummets at one of the questions. His tongue goes numb and his mouth goes dry. He’s not sure how to answer. His hands tremble and for a second he’s sure that someone has somehow already read him.

“With so many hybrids on set, is there any sort of instinct conflict?”

Tommy smiles through it, swallowing his fear and the looming dread. His mind once again fills with fluttering thoughts of death. He shakes his head and coughs to hide the scared little chitter that rises in his throat. “Surprisingly? Not yet. We all get along really well.”

Tubbo ends the video there. Ranboo grabs Tommy's script and rifles through the pages. “Isn’t like, like you and Techno. Dude. Words are failing me right now.”

“Mood,” Purpled interjects.

Ranboo nods solemnly, as if Purpled just departed the most brilliant of knowledge to them. “You and Techno are like predator and prey right? That doesn’t fuck with your mind at all?”

“It’s not really like that? It’s weird but I think that’s exactly why Puffy casted me. I’ve always had a really good handle on that stuff.” Tommy closes his maths journal. He sighs and closes his laptop too, he isn’t going to get much work done, he’s accepted that much.

He’s lying of course. Not fully. He does usually have a great handle on instincts. Though Techno does seem to bring out the worst of them, and maybe it’s the height, maybe it's the proximity, or maybe it’s the way that Tommy’s anxiety is constantly drumming. The stress that lines Tommy’s shoulders and sinks his shoulders probably doesn’t help. He flicks his ears.

“Dude Techno’s like massive. It’s all fun and games until you’re no longer the tallest.” Purpled grabs one of the throw pillows and hugs it close. “It’s really emotional, you two wouldn’t understand.” And the bitch has the gall to fake cry in front of them. A single tear slides down his face.

Ranboo pats him on the back. “I get it, I do.”

Tubbo and Tommy exchange a look. They concoct a plan in those few seconds. Their minds connect, and they’re in sync for a few short moments. Tommy grabs his pencil, and Tubbo flicks down the goggles that are always resting on his head. He says it’s for protection reasons and Tommy just goes with it.

“What are you two doing?” Ranboo looks between the two, he shakes his head. “I don’t like that look.”

“Run bitch,” Tommy grins. Purpled throws the throw pillow at them and jets out of the trailer. Tommy laughs when Ranboo sets off after him.

The trailer was getting a bit suffocating with them in there anyways. Both Tubbo and Tommy erupt into raucous laughter. Tommy collapses onto the spotted red beanbag that Ranboo had once been sitting in. He rolls his shoulder and opens the black mini fridge that’s between the couch and beanbag. He pulls out a coke and takes a sip.

He’s going to miss the cast, he thinks. He wants to do more movies, but nothing will compare to this. Nothing will match the way that Purpled and Ranboo curse Tommy from the other side of the studio. Nothing will match Tubbo barging into his trailer to ask for help on one of the homework assignments. It’s a wonderful feeling, to be involved in something great. It’ll be melancholy when it’s over, but a nice sort of melancholy.

He smiles. It’s a good and honest smile. It’s a simple thing that Tubbo returns. There’s an easy energy between everyone and as the weeks passed things only got easier. He got to know Phil and Wilbur in time, and they all fell into an easy rhythm. Tommy even got to know a lot of the extra’s personally which he didn’t think that he’d be able to. There’s a certain level of trust you need to have with a person before you punch their face in, even if it’s a fake punch. It just means you need that much more trust.

It’s a spiderweb. Everyones important. And Tommy knows that, he knows that it’s not just him in charge of how the movie turns out. He knows that it’s a group effort, and there are people who will be there to pick up where he lacks. He just doesn’t want to be a bother. He doesn’t want them to watch the thing post production, after the red carpet, he doesn’t want the to realize that he didn’t carry any of his own weight.

“Stop that,” Tubbo says. It’s so sudden that it snaps Tommy out of his stupor.

“Stop what?”

“You’re getting in your own head again.”

Tubbo as always is right. He’s right and Tommy kinda hates that he’s right. He is getting in his head. Though the final conflict is coming up. The final conflict approaches rapidly, an ever present looming cloud and Tommy isn’t sure how to feel about it. He knows that they can retake. He knows that they can always try again. He can forget a line but it’ll be okay, but there’s still the irrational voice in the back of his head telling him that he’s going to mess everything up. He’s never going to get a good take.

Tubbo throws a pencil at him. Tommy just barely dodges it. “Thanks.”

“Of course. Don’t beat yourself up. Ask questions, understand, and get help when you need it.”

“You sound like one of the stuffy adults.”

“That’s because it’s what Sam tells me.”

They fall into a peaceful quiet. It’s an easy quiet. They scroll through their phones. Anxiety and dread still festering deep in the pit of Tommy’s stomach. It doesn’t matter, everything will go fine. It has to. He has to prove himself.

He scrolls through social media, which is probably a mistake. It’s definitely a mistake. His mentions are filled with death threats. He takes a quick picture of Tubbo and tweets it out with the caption “Love our crew @Tubbotern_” He smiles as Tubbo flips him off, not looking up from his phone. His replies are swarmed with both adoration but also seething hate.

Vile things are spewed towards him, threats of so much. There’s teh vague ones that hurt the most, the ones that tell him that he got his part out of pity, that he was only hired because he was new. It wasn’t because of his talent.

He has a chance, so he might as well take it.

@Tommythebest: Oi bitch, @RealTechnoBlade, follow me back

People are telling him to fuck off. They’re telling him to stop, that he’s wasting everyone's time, that he’s not worth it. They tell him that Techno has more important things to do. Wilbur replies and follows him. Phil does the same thing. In fact, apparently both Purpled and Ranboo hadn’t followed him, fake fans the lot of them. He smiles because they’re filling his feed with positivity. It’s a nice thing.

@RealTechnoBlade: Bruhhhhhhh, you’re a glorified stan account -_-

@Tommythebest: You should see my actual stan account :p

@RealTechnoBlade: Bet

@Tommythebest: Follow me back first. Complete the moot, it’s your destiny

@SootWilbur: The stan language is real

@Tommythebest: Sorry oomfie, it’s been real

He chuckles under his breath, Techno follows him back. It’s an easy afternoon. They laugh about the interaction during dinner. Wilbur ruffles his hair and Techno tucks him in the crook of his wing. He laughs along. Puffy berates them, only a little though. Something about being conciousensious about how they present themselves on the internet. They only barely pay attention and go back to talking about it all. Maybe it’ll all be okay.

__________________

It’s not okay. Tommy’s never had a panic attack before, but the day of filming the final confrontation is upon them and he’s pretty sure he’s pretty damn close to having one. It’s hard to breathe and the spiraling thoughts of failure are the only thing he can focus on. There’s some sort of iron band around his lungs, he wants to scratch at his throat. He begs for breath that never comes.

Everything is so loud. They’re in the actual forest to film the scene. A path has been laid out for him, one that he follows as he runs from Techno. He’s half listening to Puffy explain the scene. His ears flick in tandem with his tail, unsure of what to be focusing on. Each snap of a twig is as loud as a football stadium packed with fans. The wind blows through the tree’s, the leaves whistling in the breeze. He just wants to get the scene done in as little takes as possible.

He hugs himself as he takes position. His costume is suddenly too tight. It sticks to his skin in all the worst ways, agitating it and making him itch. There is an itch. It’s an invisible itch that he can’t seem to get to. He can’t place what it is yet. His ears keep flicking and he wants them to stand still.

Techno stands at his full height, something he rarely does. He tends to hunch over to be at least a bit closer to the rest of the cast's height. Tommy takes a deep breath, trying to ignore how Techno’s sharp teeth gleam in the dappled light. He tries to ignore the sharp point of Techno’s talons and how they dance across the hilt of Techno’s fake sword.

He’s fine. He can keep his dumb fucking instincts in check for one scene. He should probably talk to Puffy about this. He’s been saying that for awhile though… and he hasn’t done it. He doesn’t want to be a bother to the rest of the cast. He sighs, digging his feet into the dirt. Different plants cover the forest floor. The tree’s grow large and crowded. 

Everything is real. They aren’t in a studio. He says he has control over his instincts, but he’s always been a good liar. He’s an actor after all. Everything is real, from the tree’s to the lighting. It doesn’t help him convince his mouse brain that Techno is acting when he clicks his tongue.

Blood red eyes practically glow as the glower down at Tommy. The cameras are rolling and Tommy has to remind himself that Techno isn’t hunting him down. It’s like Tommy is a bug for Techno to squish under his boot. Tommy’s sure that if Techno really tried he could actually crush Tommy underfoot. God knows that Techno has accidentally run into him before on accident. He crosses his fingers as Technos starts running through their lines.

“So Riot, I guess this is it.” The words come out more hissed. He fluffs his wings and leans against one of the trees.

Tommy’s not supposed to look at Puffy and the rest of the crew. He does though. He needs to remind himself that it’s not real.

Puffy sighs and Tommy knows that he’s disappointing her. But the words to explain don’t even form in his mind. He can’t tell her. He’s a professional. He’s got this. “Restart the scene.”

The camera’s start rolling again. Techno laughs under his breath. He flings out his arms. “So Riot, I gues this is it.”

The words are red hot against his ears. They sting. The way they’re hissed. The way that they’re floating in the air, an unspoken threat in the midst of it all. It’s all too much. There’s so much noise, so many threats. He’s not safe. He’s not safe and he needs to be safe.

His heart drums steady but fast in his ears. There’s so much riding on this scene and he’s not safe. He is safe. He’s safe though. It’s not real. He has to convince himself that it’s an act. It’s so believable. A testament to Techno’s skill. He wants to laugh, to fall down and collapse in a disheveled mess. He’s a professional though.

“I don’t know if you've realized, but you’re alone, Bloody.” Tommy grins, though it’s all a farce. He wants to scream but it’s stuck in his dry throat. He licks his lips, forcing words out on a limp tongue. He can barely talk. He can barely think.

Techno takes a step forward. Tommy forces himself to stand still. He forces himself to remain in a single place. He knows when he’s supposed to run. And it’s not now. It’s soon. He knows his cue.  He knows where he’s supposed to run too. He takes a deep breath and stands his ground. His heart drops. His heart drops because Techno licks his lips, looking Tommy up and down as if taking in a tasty meal.

“Look around and I think you'll find, little mouse, that there’s no one here for you either. It’s just you and me. One final battle.”

It’s not real. It's not real. It’s not real. The words become a mantra in Tommy’s head. He’s not alone, but he feels it. It feels like it really is just tiny little Tommy with the giant fucking predator that’s set out to kill him. He flicks his tail and huffs. Determined to make sure no one sees the distress that’s shaking his voice.

Techno tilts his head, worry flashing for but a second. Tommy blinks. He must have been seeing something, because in the next moment Techno is back to the sleazy and cocky smiles of a villain. He’s not going to get eaten, ahahah. He is. He’s so dead.

“I guess this is what it comes down to.” Tommy holds up his fist.

Techno looks around, he extends his wings to their full length. Tommy takes a stuttering step back. Techno draws his sword. “Run, little mouse. Run and don’t look back.”

Tommy runs. He runs and he’s not sure that he’s in control of his body. He’s fidgety and frantic. He chitters. He fucking cheaps like a baby. He’s scared. His heart is pounding and adrenaline buzzes under his skin. He’s unsure of what to do next and he knows the path he’s supposed to take. His feet follow it. Tears stream down his face. He launches through the underbrush. His skin snags on briars and blood trails down his arms and legs.

He knows that Techno is behind him. Techno is saying something but in Tommy’s panic he can’t hear anything. He can barely breathe. He runs past the camera men deeper into the forest. He just needs to get away. He needs to run. He needs to be safe. He’s not safe. He tries to take a deep breath but they hitch in his throat. More chitters and cheaps leave his lips and he’s so stupid.

He knows that the others are saying something but he can’t care. He just needs to be safe.

He trips on a root. His knee stings against crisp autumn air. The buzzing under his skin doesn’t leave. He crawls into a crevice between the roots of the tree. He balls in on himself. The tears don’t stop streaming. He sniffles and squeaks and he just wants to be safe. He doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t want to be someone's meal. He tried his best, really.

Techno nears but Tommy’s so out of breath and his feet are pounding. Everything hurts and he can’t bring himself to stand up again. He wants to be okay. He tries to talk but they get jumbled into more squeaks and chitters. He tries to speak but he can’t . Still he begs Techno. He presses himself against the tree until the rough bark was cutting into his back.

Techno falls to his knees and brings his hand to cup Tommy’s cheek. Tommy flinches away but Techno forces Tommy to look at him. Tommy squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t want to see death. He wants to believe, even with sharp talons tracing tear lines that he’ll be okay.

He hears hushed whispers and gentle reassurances. “That’s right, hey, hey. Little mouse, can you open your eyes for me?” And it’s stupid but the words were so soft that he does. He opens his eyes and gazes into the eyes of a predator. He squeaks, hiccuping in the process.

Techno shakes his head. “Oh you’re gone right now.” He spreads his wings and traps Tommy against the tree. The rest of the world is blocked by wings that look so soft. Tommy squeaks and Techno sighs. “You should have told someone.”

He’s sorry. He’s really sorry. He doesn’t want to be a meal. He’ll be better, he swears. Tommy chitters and cheaps again. It’s interrupted but a low but distinct coo. Techno brings their head together, they butt heads. “You’re okay. No ones mad. Let’s get you back to the trailer okay?”

Tommy gives a slight nod. He’s scared. He’s scared shitless. But he trusts Techno. Techno picks him up. He cradles Tommy close to his chest, keeping his wings around Tommy like some sort of barrier. And it’s warm. It’s nice and it’s warm. And Techno should be killing him. Techno brings a hand to Tommy’s skull and scratches his skull. He scratches right under Tommy’s ears and Tommy lets out some sort of chitter-purr thing.

Techno coo’s in response. Tommy leans into the touch. He’s safe. He’s safe and he’s okay and no ones mad, and that’s the best part. He sighs and his eyes flutter close.

_________________

Now if you had asked Techno what the craziest part of filming was going to be, he’d probably say the special effects makeup, that’s always a bitch to put on. However, he had his co-star in his arms and he was heading not towards the kids trailer but his own. Which he never does because it’s where he has a makeshift nest and he gets fiercely territorial about that.

“Oh my god, Blade are you going soft?” Wilbur picks up pace next to Techno.

Techno only huffs, trying to nudge Wilbur away. He’s not sure he could really speak. He just wants to get Tommy to the nest. Tommy is bleeding and he’s in his instincts, and Techno just needs to get him to the nest. He was so scared, he was so scared of Techno . That wasn’t right. Techno could prove that he was a good friend. He was a good flock member.

They called off filming. They had decided that everyone needed time to cool down, and maybe to rewrite the script a bit. Techno’s sure that Puffy is pacing her office. Phil takes one look at Techno who pulls his wings tighter around Tommy and places a gentle hand on Techno’s wing.

“I’ll go tell Puffy that you two are okay. Wilbur, make sure that Techno get’s back to his trailer, then meet me in Studio A?”

Wilbur mocks salute. Tommy whimpers and Techno coos, little mouse is safe. Little mouse is okay. Techn isn’t going to hurt little mouse. Little mouse needs to be protected. He coos and Tommy chitters back. Content he turns to Wilbur who’s taking a video of it all.

He knows he’s getting sucked into his instincts. He had been on top of them for years and yet he’s failing to keep them under because of some kid. He glares down at Wilbur. “Post this and you’re dead.”

Wilbur almost drops his phone. They have a system, they have a solid flock structure and Wilbur knows where he falls in it. Techno clicks his tongue and Wilbur falls into place, albeit a bit reluctantly. He grumbles under his breath but trails just behind Techno.

“Cheap trick,” he mutters.

Techno only rolls his eyes. He doesn’t have time for Wilbur dramatics. He has to get the tiny mouse to safety. He knows that he needs to fight his instincts but for once he doesn’t think that he will. When he first saw Tommy his instincts socked him in the jaw, demanding that he give more attention to the nestling. He held off, he didn’t want to impose on Tommy's life.

He pulls Tommy tighter to his chest. Nestling shouldn’t be scared of him. But he was. The nestling was scared of him. He’s failed the nestling. Tommy squeaks and Techno relinquishes his grip, just a bit.

It’s a bit endearing, how the nestling was a fan of his. Techno has definitely not stalked Tommy’s social media accounts. Okay so maybe he has. The moment Tommy brought up that he had a stan account at one point Techno’s stupid fucking bird brain started preening. Because of course it did. Of course it decided that it wanted to flaunt in front of Tommy. Of course his stupid bird brain wanted to bring the boy into his flock.

Maybe it was the shiny hair, or maybe it was how small he seems to Techno, but something about the loud and brash boy made Techno’s instincts scream. Techno needs to protect the boy. He needs to help him through the world of celebrity expectations. Yet the boy kept his distance, which only proved to frustrate Techno’s instincts faster.

“You’re both gone,” Wilbur says. He stretches out but opens the door to Techno’s trailer. “I’ll see you later then.”

Techno, in a fit of he doesn’t know what, closes the door on Wilburs face. He walks over to the makeshift nest he’s created in the corner of his trailer and places a sleepy Tommy Innit in it. He coos something soft and Tommy reaches up to touch Techno’s wing. Techno obliges and lets Tommy run his fingers through them as Techno grabs some of his favorite trinkets.

Suffice it to say, filming isn’t going to happen for a while.