Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wilbur walks down the street of the new town he now calls home. It's not like he had much say in the matter; his father, Phil, architect extraordinaire, had recently been commissioned by the town to help bring it into a more modern state of being.

The pay was apparently enough to cause Phil to pick up his little family and move them to what seemed like the middle of nowhere.

The town was relatively small and surrounded by mountains and an endless forest… It consisted of one long main street filled with tiny, locally-owned shops that the town constantly praised- the 1950s aesthetic was enough to keep Wilbur entertained for a few days; however, it grew old quickly. Will had thought it to be more suffocating than freeing.

This town seemed untouched by any massive cooperation- no billboards plagued the open scenery or ads being shoved down your throat at every turn. On the one hand, Wilbur liked the cleanliness of the new town, but part of him ached for the bustling city life he had grown accustomed to.

If there was one thing Wilbur liked about the town, it was the air. It usually felt calm and clear; for once, he felt he could unload his thoughts without the noise of the city drowning any form of humanity that might come from his mind.

However, now it blistered both inside and outside his body excruciatingly.

Wilbur walks to his new high school, one heavy foot in front of the other, carrying his guitar on his back and worn brown satchel across his body; he wasn't aware that in this town, you needed a damn car to get everywhere- the walk back would surely be fun. The summer heat presses him as he tries to fan himself with his white t-shirt. The thick air causes him to sway a bit.

Wilbur eventually gets to the school, and his face twists as he checks his phone to ensure he's got the correct address, and when he confirms his worst nightmare, he shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, praying for cool air to calm his burning anger.

The building looked massive, like the Labyrinth of Crete; like he was Thesus ready to say the minotaur. Or maybe he'd become Icarus, destroyed by his hubris.

He had been generally crossed with Phil since the move. He and his brother Technoblade went into their senior year with basically nothing, no friends, no parties, no people.

Now for Technoblade, this was a blessing as his other half thrived in his own company; the only way Wilbur would ever get him out of the house as if he dragged him out kicking and screaming- then Techno would tell him what a wonderful time he had then locked his bedroom door.

For Wilbur, this was a nightmare; what had he done to anger the gods to leave him in his ring of hell?

Never mind that, Wilbur silently makes his way into the school, where he sees a sleepy old security guard with a beer gut, balding head, and all who lazily crack open an eye to look the boy up and down.

"Music club?" he asks in an exasperated tone and rolls his eyes before knocking his head back and taking a deep breath. The building is incredible and gentle, but only because there are currently only two occupants in the whole building.

"Uh… yeah," Wilbur nods, expecting more effort from the man who was supposed to be watching over the place. The man gestures to the right side hallway before sluggishly responding. Frankly, he wasn't feeling very secure.

"To the right, third door on the left," He hums before positioning himself back into his resting spot and taking a long deep breath. Wilbur wants to punch him, but maybe he is just projecting his anger.

He can't blame the man, the school is surrounded by an endless sea of trees, and the building is two miles away from anything, so he doubts anyone would be stopping by. The summer heat outside didn't help much, either.

As he makes his way down, Will feels the wide hallways would swallow him whole. The place was utterly lacking any sound whatsoever. Even at six feet tall, Wilbur had never felt so small.

The fluorescent lights flickered, and the boards out in the halls had "welcome back to school" plastered all over them. The teachers seemed to be getting ready for the new swarm of students when school started again in a week.

As Wilbur ventures deeper into the belly of the beast, his sneakers make soft squeaking noises against the square white vinyl floors.

He makes his way to the music room, and when he gets there, he is met with a tiny, dark room filled with a piano that looked centuries old, a tuba in the back, and a few more instruments that students have been dropping off gradually.

Wilbur had applied for the school music program before moving, which they claimed to have the most prestigious music program in the area. Wilbur had been excited until he realized they were the only school in the area, period.

Another thing to add to the "reasons why I hate Phil" list.

Regardless, Wilbur walks around the room before finding a nice secure spot to leave his guitar. There is only one small window on the opposite side of the wall, and the blinds seem entirely shut to keep the room cold.

Wilbur then realizes that this whole building has no air conditioning at all. Though the cement walls seemed to retain the cool air well enough, he could only imagine what this place would smell like with hundreds of students running around.

He feels almost nauseous at the idea and takes one more look around before concluding that, like most of this town, it is empty. Wilbur makes his way out of the room and shuts the door; it makes a soft click, and he turns on his heel, running a hand through his wavy brown hair to make his grand exit.

That's when he notices it. A massive set of double doors at the end of the hall with a bright red 'do not enter sign propped up in front of them, and just like that, his interest piqued.

Surely the security guard wouldn't mind if he just took a quick look… oh, who was he kidding; he'd be lucky if the man was still breathing. A sly smile grows on his face at the thought of a bit of adventure; he makes his way through the hall to the double doors… What's the worst that could happen?

He smirks before pushing the doors open and is surprised when he isn't met with blaring alarms. Honestly, this school should invest in some better security.

At this moment, though, Wilbur's excitement drops like a pound of bricks as he enters a library older than anything he has ever seen; the floors are made of an ugly gray carpet- a sharp contrast from the outside beds.

In the front was a small desk with an old bright green lamp sitting on top of it and papers messily spread on the desk. A cart overfilled with new books sat not far from the desk, then Wilbur turned to the left, and he was greeted with a comically long room with old bookshelves lined up back to back.

Wilbur feels the hair on the back of his neck stand when he notices that the lights overhead go out halfway down the room. The room looked like it was under general maintenance, so he's not quite sure what he was expecting. However, a part of him feels the excitement swell up again in his stomach from curiosity… What is on the other side of the darkened room?

He makes his way down the room, walking between the peeling yellowing walls and the creaky, dark bookshelves; he lets his hand drag against the wall as he passes every aisle of books. As he approaches the back of the room, he notices the number of books on the shelves dwindle until he reaches the end of the room.

The little spot contains a small seating area with tables and chairs for the students to read said books and do their work. Will once again feels the disappointment wash over him as he looks at the last bookshelf in the line. It's empty, well… almost empty.

In his observations, Wilbur notices a single massive book sitting on the top shelf tucked away in the far right corner; it looks as though it is attempting to be hidden, and something seems to be guiding Wilbur straight to it.

He slowly makes his way over, standing on his toes to reach the book, and tries to pull it down from the shelf. When he's finally able to grab it, it slips out of his hands and falls on the floor with a loud thud. Will swears, picks up the book quickly, and stays silent, praying the thud isn't enough to alert the guard.

Much to his delight, the security guard makes no effort to come to the library, and Will slowly moves backward and takes a seat on the hard wooden chair behind him, completely infatuated.
In his hands, he holds a wrecked leather book, the leather tearing in a few spots to reveal the material underneath. On the cover, neatly engraved is

"A Beginners Guide to the Other Worldly."

Finally… something to cure Wilbur's terminal boredom. He flips through the pages and can't help but admire the craftsmanship that went into making the book. He pushes up his big round glasses to take a better look.

The pages are sewn in so neatly, and the writing contains nothing short of perfect, cursive letters in black ink decorating each page beautifully. Wilbur lightly traces the letters as he flips through the yellowing pages.

Who would let such a beautiful book waste away in a decrepit place like this? Wilbur skims through, and a small smile paints his lips. The book speaks of different legends in the town, different monsters that can be found lurking in the darkness of the woods, and the excitement and anxiety slowly build in Wilbur's stomach and spread to his very fingertips and toes. His whole body feels like tv static.

He flips through page after page, soaking in all the information he can. The book talks of everything from ghosts to fae to zombies. Not everything in the book is terrible, though, with some good legends being told and even a few blessings.

Wilbur doesn't realize how long he has read the book before hearing the security guard storm in.

"It's been two hours, and you're still not out kid; I know you're in here," He shouts, and Will feels his heart drop then rise into his throat, every beat almost choking him out. He freezes as the anxiety surges through his veins with every step the security guard makes.

The keys jingling and flashlight illuminating the darkness of the other side prove to be far too much for him to handle. He breaks his trance last second and shoves the book in his satchel just in time as the security guard flashes the light in his face and angrily storms over. Grabbing Will by the back of his shirt, causing him to stand instantly, and pushing Will in front of him, "I don't get paid enough to deal with you brats," He rants, but Wilbur doesn't care. He can't even hear him. He's more fixated on the windows.

When he had gotten there, it had been just a bit after five o clock, and now the sun had begun to set. There was no way he had been there for two hours; he had just opened the book.

The guard pushes him out the front door and yells at him, something about not showing his face until the school year begins. Wilbur simply nods, looking into the woods in front of their school. The guard storms back into the building and locks the doors behind him.

Wilbur's smile grows more wicked, and he makes his way down the path and begins his long walk home. Wilbur's mind is swimming with ideas as he looks at the woods with different eyes.

Wilbur had always been skeptical; the supernatural was simply not his thing, and he chalked everything up to a reasonable explanation. That was something he and his brother had in common.

However, boredom does a lot to a man, and if these stories added a little more spice and depth to his currently beige circumstances, he would take it, even if it meant following along with the little stories told in some book he found in a dingy library.

On his way home, he sees the clouds overhead behind darken and cover the sky. It was going to rain- his little daydream had to be cut short as he took in a deep breath and burst into a whole sprint home; smile wide and eyes bright with wonder and excitement as he finally got into town, he could hear the thunderclap behind him but no rain yet.

He runs by it all, the shops, the yellow light of the street lamps, the cars. He makes it home, a little gray farmhouse with black shutters and white accents, small flower boxes sitting outside each window, truly a picture-perfect home with even the land outside neatly landscaped.

Wilbur runs up the two steps onto the porch before busting through the front door. The smell of dinner is the first thing to hit his nose; something smells good, but Wilbur has more pressing matters.

"Hey mate-" Phil hums before raising an eyebrow at Wilbur's disheveled appearance. Wilbur inhales as if oxygen will never enter his lungs again.

"Techno," he pants, "do you" he wheezes some more and grips the end of the counter, "know where" he hits his chest a few times before coughing "he is," he finishes as Phil fills up a glass of water and hands it to him.

Will grabs it desperately, downs it all in one go, and slams the cup on the counter, letting out a loud, exasperated groan; his insides are undoubtedly in flames.

"In his room- Wilbur, did you run-" Before he can finish his question, a roar of thunder cuts him off, and it begins pouring. That answered his question pretty quickly. Wilbur slumps against Phil's shoulder, finally letting the exhaustion settle into his bones.

Phil smelled like expensive cologne, like a nice breeze or the ocean- it calmed Will almost instantly. Phil looked down at his son and tucked some of his long blond hair behind his ear, ice blue eyes shining with kindness as he gently rubbed Will back while he caught his breath.

It was times like this when Wilbur couldn't be mad at Phil. He always knew what to do. After a moment of silence, Phil speaks again, "How about you go tell Techno what you wanted to tell him; then come help me set up dinner," He says in a more gentle tone looking at Wilbur and smiling; there would be more time for an investigation later.

Will nods, pushes himself up, stands properly, letting his vision settle before turning on his heel and makes his way down a short hall and up the stairs between the living room and kitchen. Wilbur grins a wild grin…

Techno was going to have a cow.

Chapter Text

Technoblade is an anomaly. You would think he'd have some charming personality and work his way to the top, but that was far from it. He was captain of the football team, leader of the debate club, and school president.

Technoblade dreaded each meeting, each debate, each practice for several reasons, but the main one that stood out among the rest was… well… Techno simply was not made for social interaction.

It was almost insanity. Technoblade had the perfect equation to rule the school; however, he decided that it would be better to reject every party, every date; every type of social gathering he could think of, and you would never find Technoblade.
Now, his brother Wilbur was a whole different story. From the day he was born, Wilbur captivated the world's attention. He's bright, charismatic, and overall gets whatever he wants with the wave of a hand- you would expect him to drop his deadweight brother, but it was the opposite.

Whenever he could drag Techno out of the house, he did. He admired and appreciated his brother for his efforts, but he didn't know what other language to tell him that he just… didn't want to see other people's irritating faces.

That's why he was over the moon when Phil had come to them telling them about his new job opportunity; to help some town in the mountains get some upgrades.

No one for miles? The cool mountain air? The free outdoors to practice some of his more hobbies? He was all in. He knew the move would be hard for Wilbur, though, and genuinely pitied his brother. Ever since they had gotten to their quaint new home, Technoblade had done his best to spend more time with his brother so he would be less lonely.

Clearly, he had done a good enough job as he heard the sound of Wilbur's heavy footsteps thumping against the stairs and his bedroom door being slammed open. Techno had been lounging in his bedroom trying to get some work done when his mammoth brother came burling through his bedroom door as if he had paid rent there.

He spins around on his little swivel chair, knees pressed to his chest, turning to face his insane-looking brother. His hair goes in every which way, and massive circle glasses sit crooked on his nose. Techno simply raises an eyebrow. Like most siblings, they shared one brain cell between two, and today was Technos day with the cell.

Techno rubs his head in annoyance as his brother drops a decrepit old book on his desk, letting out a loud thump, shaking the knick-knacks Technoblade has scattered on his desk. Made from leather with all the pages hand-sewn together, the title reads A Beginner's Guide to the other Worldly.

Techno looks up, genuinely unimpressed.

"What is this?" Technoblade asks, lazily tying his long pink hair into a bun at the crown of his head, then reaches over for his smaller rectangular glasses, sitting them on the bridge of his nose as he looks at the disgusting mass in front of him. That's when his painfully neutral face melts into an abhorred expression.

"Exactly what it looks like." Wilbur's face twists into an almost manic grin, beginning to read the title, "A Beginner's Guide to The Other Worldly!" He laughs loudly, enough to make Techno's head throb for a second.

Technoblade opens the book and begins to skim it. "It talks about all kinds of spooky things, like demons, witches, ghouls, goblins; you name it!" Wilbur's tone slowly intensifies as he leans over Techno's shoulders to look at the book at the same time as he is.

"... So, fairy tales?" Techno asks, raising an eyebrow and turning his head to face his brother, deciding to entertain his antics for a bit. It's not like he had anything better to do, and Will looked like he needed to get his energy out somehow. "Wilbur, if you wanted me to read you bedtime stories, I'm sure I could have found something else-" He makes his fun, but Wilbur cuts him off.

"No man, the book talks about the signs of a cryptid. Like, where it comes from and what damage it does." he nods, diverting his attention back to the page that's open on Technos' desk. "and how to hunt them."

His smile twitches back up slowly as he skims the page about vampires.

"Where did you even find this thing?" he asks, looking at the book with a slight frown as he turns to the next page about skinwalkers.

Techno had never been one for the paranormal, not because he was scared, but because their existence made no sense to him. It seemed pretty stupid to think some bloodsuckers or hairy people would come out of the woodwork to try and kill him. If they were going to do it, they would have done so by now, and Techno was patiently waiting.

"The school library, in the back," He sighs, flipping the pages casually as they both read through it. Techno's honestly surprised their shitty little high school would even have something like this - although he didn't believe in the supernatural, he did think the stories were pretty cool.

"Okay?" He says in a rather questioning tone as he shuts the book and pushes his chair to look the idiot in his eyes.

His brown hair was in a mess, with his massive round glasses. Techno notes how dirty his clothes look and how wide the grin stretched across his face.
Techno and Wilbur were both going into their senior year. They had better things to be worrying about, like college. This was their last year together before they both moved away… Wilbur would pursue music and Techno… Well, he wasn't sure yet.

But now wasn't the time to think about that. Now was the time to deal with his maniac of a sibling looking all too excited over something that came out of a horror movie— this doesn't sound like it'll go well.

"Okay? Okay?! Okay, is all you have to say?" Wilbur asks with the grin melting into a deep frown. After a beat or two, he gets a look of pure determination as he spins Techno around in his chair, forcing his brother to face him properly.

Oh god, he was going to do his sales pitch. He reaches over, grabs the book off the desk, and holds it up as if it's the holy grail. "Tech-no-blade, this is the answer to our prayers for something to save us from the everlasting boredom that is this town." He puts on his best showtime voice and continues.

"I propose we do a little hunting of sorts with this book, do a little… adventuring! The book not only contains a variety of monsters and their information but locations in this very town where you can go find them!"
He straightens himself out as he notes Techno's unimpressed nature and goes into overdrive, trying to pull at the heartstrings next to "C'mon Techno." He sighs desperately, lowering the book, almost cradling it.
"In a year, you and I won't get another chance to hang out like this for months. and it's been a while since we both got out of the house to do something fun." Wilbur looks down at the book, and you can see him get a little sentimental just for a second. "I wanna do something stupid before we have to be all serious and old like Phil," he says with a much softer voice, running his hands over the title etched into the leather. "I know it's not real, okay? But it could be fun to pretend… just one more time?"

Damn it, this bastard was good.

"Fine," he groans, slumping in his chair and spinning back around. "We can do your stupid adventures." He huffs before sitting around upright and holding his hand out for the book. "But I get to choose what we do first." He states as Wilbur's hands back the book with excitement. Any trace of the sorrow from earlier was wiped clean and replaced with that same giddy smile he first walked in with.

"Yes! Of course! Your pick! Anything you want!" Wilbur is too excited to use complete sentences. Techno pushes up his glasses and gently settles the book back on the desk, opening it carefully and admiring it just for a second before flipping around.

Wilbur watches eagerly, directly next to him, genuinely forgetting what personal space is and why some people might need it. Techno reaches page five hundred fifty-five and stops. A drawing of a pretty big castle is the first thing to greet his eyes. At the top of the page, "Manor Dream," Techno decides to read the summary out loud.

"Manor Dream was built in the 1700s by the infamous oligarch Dream Was taken" Techno clears his throat before continuing.
"The home was initially created for him and his attendants, but after half a decade of living in the home, he began to make reports of hearing whispers… eventually the whispering voices became talking and talking became screaming." Techno's voice tenses and Wilbur's eyes widen.
"The supposed voices could not be heard by anyone else in the Manor except for Dream. Eventually, the voices pushed him into a momentary lapse of sanity, and his attendants were never seen again. Eventually, Dream began to anger the locals as he lashed out more and more with anyone who had crossed his path."
Techno swallows thickly before continuing, "It is unsure if the attendants had simply left or if they had all been murdered. The townspeople decided they had enough of the terror Dream had subjugated them to and stormed the Manor, giving him the death of kings with the guillotine, putting Dream's reign of terror to an end. The house still stands five miles west of the town square. It is said that those who can find the Manor, stay within the walls for the night and leave will be granted a lifetime of happiness and prosperity. Those who do not will-"

Techno finally breathes as he notices the rest of the words are smudged.

"That's-" Wilbur pushes his hair back and laughs loudly. "Amazing! And it's so close too! Techno! How have we not seen some massive manor in the middle of the woods?"

"No clue," Techno says softly and leans back. "Let's do that one. Sounds easy enough- you stay in some random room for a night and leave with good luck?" He chuckles. A lifetime of happiness and prosperity sounds pretty damn nice to him now.

"And actively being hunted by a maniac." Wilbur points out, chuckling slightly at his brother's remark.

"Where does it say that?" Techno wonders and looks at his brother with a cocked eyebrow.

"It's implied." Wilbur nods, so sure of himself

"Until I read it, I won't believe it." Techno insists and turns his chair to face his moronic sibling face to face once more.

"You can't read your own gravestone, but I'm pretty sure you'd know once you've died" Wilbur seems to have convinced himself that this is a death mission, and Techno can't help but smile at his enthusiasm.

"Touché." He chuckles. Techno's explored the ghost town on his own, however brief it was. Wilbur's excitement seems to be rubbing off on him. Having a destination was a tad more exciting, though.

"Okay, so the plan-"Wilbur starts in his big, bold leadership voice but is cut off reasonably quickly by Phil's shouting.

"Techno! Wilbur!! Get your asses down here for dinner!" Phil calls, and Wilbur groans spinning around and walking out, finally dropping his satchel on the floor. Techno follows shortly behind him, stretching his legs and feeling his hip pop. He had to find a better way of sitting.

When they get down and turn the corner for the kitchen, they see Phil stirring a pot and pointing at the sink for the boys to wash their hands before they start. With Wilbur coming in through the door and the dirt all over the younger's hands and clothes, Phil couldn't help but cringe.

The two fight for the sink; while Techno is stronger than Wilbur, Will is much taller and reaches over him with ease, Techno cranks back his arm, ready to elbow him in the gut, but Phil grabs his arm last second and gives him a warning look. Techno rolls his eyes and finishes washing his hands; Wilbur gets to the table.

Nothing inside of their home matches. Not their cups or plates or even their silverware but to them, it didn't matter- the rest of their things would come later in the week, so they settled for what they had.

After filling their plates, they all take their seats, and Wilbur digs right in without a second thought. Phil glances over and shakes his head- Techno can only stare in horror and amusement. Part of him wants to give him his plate just for experimentation's sake.

The run home had made him both hungry and thirsty, but eventually, he slowed down halfway through his plate, and dinner moved on like normal.
They sit in silence for a few seconds before Phil speaks again.

"Will," he hums, ready to address the situation now that he is home, relaxed, and fed. "What'd you do today?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

Wilbur lies through his teeth like he was born to do it.

"Went to the school, dropped off my things, and ran home." He tilts his head to the side, and Phil raises an eyebrow. Techno is amazed that he doesn't tell Phil about the book or their plans.

Wilbur couldn't keep anything from Phil. He would actively spill anything and everything that came to his mind. When it came to keeping secrets, Techno reigned king. Phil stares at Wilbur, analyzing him as he picks at his food.
"Mhm… and how was the school? Did you meet anyone?" Phil asks, going back to his plate of food, face expressionless and eyebrows slightly raised.

Wilbur glances up to see what game he's playing here. Phil never pried too much on what was going on when it came to the more personal matters- however, lately, he had been more insistent on asking them where they had gone if they left the house and who they were with.

It was understandable, considering it's a new town and he isn't very familiar with the people in the area yet, but it seemed to be more than that - something deeply troubling Phil. And if it's bothering Phil, that means… something.
"Just an ugly security guard. The man was practically on his deathbed." Wilbur responds before poking at his food and pushing some of the vegetables around.

Technoblade wishes he was elsewhere and even debates taking his dinner to his bedroom and finishing it there. Instead, Phil caves and relaxes, melting away any of the tension in the room; Wilbur visibly lets out a sigh of relief.

"At least someone was there." Phil chuckles and leans forward after a few more seconds of silence. "I'm gonna have to go to the town over the weekend. I know we just got here, but there are a few things I need to get straightened out before I can set up shop here."

The two boys picked their heads up from their plates, paying their full attention to their father after what he had just said.

Phil was incredibly captivating; he could talk about paint drying and keep the boy's eyes on him. This time it was for entirely different reasons. Techno glanced at Wilbur in his peripheral vision and could see his brother's face twist for a second, doing his best not to explode with excitement.

"I'll have to leave you two here to hold down the fort." Wilbur opens his mouth to interject but is cut short as Phil continues. "I have one condition, though… recently, someone has gone missing in the surrounding forest. I'm not sure who or when but they've been advising people to stay out of there until they figure out what happened." Phil glances at Wilbur as more of a warning.

"Can I trust you two enough to stay out of the woods until I get back or not talk to any shady motherfuckers that might come around?" he asks, finally wrapping up his little moment with the mic and staring at his boys with those bright blue eyes and one eyebrow cocked up.

The two almost respond in unison.

"Yes, of course."

They answer, knowing damn well they were about to shatter every rule with a damn bat.

"Good." Phil smiles wide and finishes his dinner before standing and pushing his chair back in. "I'll be gone by tomorrow morning. I'll call every once in a while. So for the love of god, charge your phones. I'm looking at you, Will." Phil glares before taking his plate to the sink.

Wilbur and Techno stare at each other, Wilbur with a devious grin, and Techno with a simple look of neutrality. He already knew there was no talking Wilbur out of it, so he might as well go so his brother didn't, y'know… die.

Tomorrow would be the time of their lives.

Chapter Text

The night had been rather anti-climatic, with some detective drama accompanying the three bored gentlemen. Wilbur hated watching these shows with Technoblade because his brother spoiled them every time.

They would start an episode, the premises would be set up, and the all-knowing Technoblade would deduct the killer almost instantaneously. It made Wilbur get mildly violent.

"Oh my god, I think Michael is the killer. I mean- look at the guy! Something hasn't been right! Peter has never done anything wrong ever!" Wilbur huffs, leaning on Phil's arm after his little outburst. He was more than determined to get it right this time.
Then Techno, seated on a massive chair with his legs thrown over the ends of the armrest on one side and his head dangling on the other, opens his mouth to tell Wilbur why he was so wrong. But before he even gets a word out, Wilbur sharply states, "Say a single fucking word, and ill feed you to the skinwalkers outside." he threatens, and Phil lets out a hearty laugh.

"Skinwalker?" Phil chuckles and looks down at Wilbur with a curious expression. "Where did you ever hear that?" he asks with a smile, then looks back at the television.

"From the Intern-" the yelling from the tv pipes up before Wilbur could give Phil an actual response.

"PETER! How could you do this to me! I trusted you!" A woman screams and is shortly met with her demise. Wilburs going to burst a damn vein.

"Whoa, I would have never seen that coming." Technoblade gets a decorative couch pillow thrown straight at his face. He blinks and fixes his glasses and hair, then turns his head and leans back, looking Wilbur in the eyes with a terrifyingly cold and distant gaze, but his grin speaks a world of horrors for Wilbur, and boy, was he right.
Wilbur gets goosebumps and holds his breath before mustering an ounce of courage and shutting his eyes, pretending not to care.
"You think you're sooo scary, will news flash Blade, you're not-" When he opens his eyes again, Technoblade stands over him, pillow in hand, letting it sway next to him. Wilbur looks at Phil, praying his father will save him from Techno's wrath.
Fat chance, not when Techno is his favorite.

"C'mon now, Wilbur… you really didn't think you'd get away with that," He chuckles, eyes colder than the damn void, tilting his head to the side. Wilbur clears his throat; he can't help but freeze up.

Techno cranks back his arm, holding the pillow ready to assume the position of judge, jury, and executioner but is cut off by Phil raising a single hand.

"That's enough, boys. I can't cope with the chaos tonight. reschedule your revenge for another time, Techno." Phil sighs, letting out a little giggle. Wilbur looks at his savior with annoyance as Technoblade simply drops the pillow on the ground and reaches up to untie his long pink hair.

He runs a hand through it; he had spent so long growing it out, and it soon became his pride and joy along with his other several skills. Techno had decided to grow and dye it to distinguish himself after getting fed up with being mistaken for Wilbur so often.

He glances at the massive gold mirror hung on the living room wall and touches his overgrown roots, dark brown hair peeking from the top of his head, much to his dismay. Wilbur notes his discomfort and sighs, he knew there were no natural salons in the area, and it would be tough to get his hair professionally done, so he opts for the second best thing.

Wilbur stands triumphantly and runs upstairs into the bathroom, swinging open the cabinet under the sink and rummaging through whatever Phil had packed up and found it; A tied plastic grocery store bag tucked away in the corner of the cabinet filled with Technos hair care.

Wilbur was no professional, but he couldn't stand Techno looking at himself the way he did- though he'd never actually tell him that. He grabs the bag and rushes back down the stairs. Technoblade raises an eyebrow, but before he can speak, Wilbur grabs his wrist and drags him into the kitchen, pulling a chair into the middle and pushing Techno into the seat.

"Wilbur, what-"

"Shut up, please, and let me work my magic."

"Will, seriously, dude, you don't have to."

"Oh my God, Technoblade. Just- let me just take care of your roots, man. I know what I'm doing."

He, in fact, did not know what he was doing.

He ignores the rest of Techno's protests and begins mixing the bleach. Phil makes his way over and prepares the dye, deciding to help Wilbur out a bit.
Phil knew Techno had made an appointment to get his hair done before they had left but missed it to help Phil pack. So, Phil had gone out the night before they left and bought the highest quality material he could get for Techno to use when they had settled.

He had let Wilbur know beforehand, so he didn't forget to take it before they left; he was glad one of them had remembered it. When Phil had joined the effort, Techno fell quiet and began to loosen his shoulders.

He let them work their magic as Wilbur played some music off his already busted phone as they began to section and bleach Techno's head.

Phil had placed the plastic bag over his head to let the bleach do its thing, and Wilbur opened the window, making sure they wouldn't pass out then and there. Techno shut his eyes and listened to them move around the kitchen chatting. He felt warmth blooming in his chest… he's never felt more content than now.

With the smell of the late-night summer breeze and the faint scent of bleach, he feels as though he could fall asleep there. However, he's pulled over to the sink after a few minutes.

Wilbur positions him in a way that would make it easier for him to rinse the bleach. While Wilbur washes out the bleach, Phil preps the toner. Techno is seated in the chair for a bit longer as they dry his hair. To be quite frank, the two had been rather proud of themselves. However, Techno was terrified. Once dry, they begin with pink.

"You should try black." Wilbur curtly suggests as he lifts each section and applies the dye.

"Nah." He yawns and stretches a little. "Pink throws my enemies off guard." Techno glances up at his sibling. This had been true on several occasions- such as their last major football game where the enemy team had been so off-put by Technos pastel pink hair.

By the night's end, Technos hair wasn't really salon perfect, but it was good enough. With the three exhausted, they go off to their rooms Phil and Wilbur had tried hard to remove the pink from their hands but failed miserably and had just given up. Techno enters his room, looks into the standing mirror next to his closet, and smiles softly.

They had a big day ahead of them. He noticed a couple dark spots, but it wasn't anything to cry over. As he climbed into bed, he began playing with his newly dyed hair before tying it up and finally falling asleep.

In the morning, Phil is already long gone, disappearing with the moon as the sun rises. He's decided to let Techno sleep in as he packs their bags for their little adventure, throwing in random things they may need. And with the sun, Wilbur rises with it.

He looks at their bag and goes over what he had packed; the book, a first aid kit, a few granola bars, three lamps, some sandwiches, a few bottles of water, two flashlights and batteries, a portable battery, and their phone charger.

Once he's sure he's got most of it down, he runs up the stairs to wake up Technoblade with the energy of a wildfire. When he gets to his slumbering brother's room, he swings the door open, not stopping to let it smash into the wall.

Wilbur is surprised to see Techno already awake and dressed; typically, it would take a whole band of people to wake up the 'blade,' and yet here he was, dressed in a pair of rather stylish dark green cargo pants and a tighter black t-shirt, hair picked up in a high ponytail. Wilbur laughs loudly.

"Haha. Laugh all you want, Wilbur. It's the epitome of fashion," Technoblade insists.

"You look like you're going to war," Wilbur wheezes.

"We kinda are," Techno grumbles under his breath. "Look, these pants have a lot of pockets for things. The shirt isn't loose, so it won't get caught anywhere-" Techno explains why his outfit would be best for combat if necessary, but Wilbur has already made his mind up.

His brother looked like a military general, and it was more than funny. Wilbur himself wore ripped black jeans and a yellow sweater with a white shirt underneath. It got cold at night, and Wilbur wasn't taking any chances. In Technos' protest to take anything extra for the night, Wilbur makes a mental note to take an additional hoodie from his closet before they leave.

Wilbur makes his way to his room, grabs a black hoodie, and packs it downstairs. Before Techno joins him, he holds one more thing; a vintage sword knife Phil had gotten him on one of his trips abroad.

The knife had a beautiful case; being decorated with gold, silver, and gems that Techno was pretty sure were just glass but it in no way took away from the blade's beauty.

It was extremely sharp, and since he no longer had pepper spray or a rocket launcher, this would have to do.

They make their way out, slowly arriving at the town square. They begin talking about school and memories from back home, attempting to ignore the eerie nature of the town.

It was older, and most of the paint had begun to fade, leaving the town in ruins, a ghost of the vibrancy it once had; there was barely anyone walking the streets either; even out in the open, Wilbur was sure his footsteps would make an echo.

They passed by several shops and little boutiques, which were probably the only clothing store here for miles- it infuriated Wilbur to no end. Hanging signs with each store's name on them swayed with the wind. Today had seemed significantly colder than yesterday, with the clouds covering most of the sky. It didn't feel like it was going to rain, though.

They pass by a sniffling raven-haired boy putting up a poster, though Wilbur and Techno pass by without thinking twice – in the city, you learn to mind your own damn business. It didn't stop Wilbur from noting the other boy's sorrow as he rubbed tears away from his eyes. As they pressed forward, a heavy pit made its home in Wilbur's stomach.

A light fog covered the town like a blanket, and the yellow glow of the old city lamps didn't comfort Techno anymore, but once they made it to the center of the town, they turned west and finally began their journey.

When they start on the path of moving westward, they talk of video games, their old school drama, Technos football team, and their current school. They walk for what seems like millennia, deciding to stop to eat the first round of sandwiches. They let the silence take over, eating and listening to the leaves rustling in the wind.

Wilbur stares at the endless sea of trees. Even though he believes the stories in the book aren't real, he can't help but feel watched- he didn't know what was out there, and suddenly the feeling of being so small engulfed him once more, lost in thought and spacing out.

"C'mon, Wilbur." Techno murmurs, shoving him just a bit. "We got places to be, cryptids to meet." He chuckles, attempting to ease his brother's nerves.
He can't have Wilbur freezing on him now. Wilbur snaps out of his trance-like state and gives Technoblade a little nod before following behind him. He decides some music will help lighten the load and plays a more upbeat playlist. Wilbur sings along, and Techno provides his usual commentary. The day goes on.

Techno takes note of the road. What once started as a decently paved road had gradually become increasingly broken up, larger cracks and potholes behind spotted more and more. Technoblade wonders when they last paved this far out.

What throws him off the most is when the road ends and the dirt path begins. It's a vast and dingy dirt path with weeds and bushes growing around from every which way. He swallows thickly but maintains his neutrality and commentary to not set off Wilbur, who had found himself the perfect distraction from the nightmare-inducing path in front of them. As they move forward, the trail becomes more and more narrow, Wilbur has grown impatient, Techno has produced irritated, and the two mixed together would become explosive.

However, as Technoblade proposed turning back, they reached a massive gate with a large metal "D" in cursive imprinted on the front. Maybe the spot was more popular than Wilbur had initially thought. A sizeable rusted metal chain with a lock on the ground, it looks to have been there a while…

With thick and tall stone walls on either side with ivy overtaking the area, they push the rusted old gate open, the massive thing making a loud, horrible screeching noise, then coming to a slow stop. Now, this was more of an adventure.

Techno sighs and glances at Wilbur from the corner of his eye to double-check his state. Wilbur looks more excited than scared, almost like the hair on the back of his neck is saluting. They were incredibly close to their destination, and that was more important to Wilbur than the sea of darkness surrounding them.

After a few minutes of wrestling with the surrounding nature, they make it to the glory they had been searching for, and Wilbur feels a wave of nausea wash over him. However, he can't pinpoint the feeling that follows right after. Whether it was excitement or terror, it didn't matter… sheer curiosity was enough to pull him towards the manor in front of them.

It was a glorious sight; a massive, castle-like structure sat in front of them, seemingly undisturbed by man. What was once a white stoned manor now sat dark gray and dirty in color, with moss growing all around? It had two massive staircases on either side of the entrance leading to a grand opening.

Techno and Wilbur make their way up the right-wing stairway, staring in wonder at the little details all over the manor. Wilbur fantasizes about what the mansion would have looked like in its prime… how could the town let something so beautiful and historic go to waste? However, once they had gotten to the top of the stairway, he understood.
He and Techno had both felt goosebumps wash over their body in unison as they stared at the behemoth facing them. The house was built as though it was made for giants, sure, it was lovely, but the silence was overwhelming.
The windows had such lovely engraved details, and the glass had seemed worn down with time but still relatively intact. The front door is slightly cracked open and the two look at each other, silently debating turning back home.

However, the sun had begun to go down, and the darkness would catch them before they got close to town. Techno takes the lead, opting for the walls rather than walking in the pitch black any day. He makes his way into the manor, with Wilbur following on his heels.

When they enter, they seem to be pleasantly surprised.

"What the fuck."

Wilbur whispers in awe, and Techno nods in agreement, at a pure loss of words. The almost castle seems untouched by modern man; they had both been expecting everything to be looted or shattered, some vulgar graffiti here and there but… there was nothing.

Wilbur didn't know if that was good or bad; they were met with a spruce hardwood floor and a beautifully decorated red persian carpet. The walls were made of old dark oak, adding a closed-off homey feel. What tied it together was the marble pillars supporting the roof from collapsing right on top of the two boys.

They were met with several options to move in. Two massive closed-off doors on both their left and right, an enormous marble staircase in the middle where you can see the landing to the second floor, and the railings leading you down the east and west wings.

At the bottom of the stairwell were two smaller doors more hidden away, servant doors, clearly. Techno decides to move right and opens the massive oak doors, leading to a gorgeous smaller living area.

At the back of the room, there's a grand fireplace with two massive pillars, magnificently detailed, making it look as though it was formed with vines in them. There was also an impeccably sizeable stained glass window lining the right side of the wall.

There had been another pretty Persian rug and a couch. The room felt more comfortable than the rest of the house, really.
And with that, they decided to make this their base of operations, setting up their lams, bags, and food here, making themselves comfortable as they take a seat on the centuries-old couch.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

Right?

Right. What's a sleepover in a castle, anyway?

Chapter Text

Much to their surprise, there was nothing inherently scary about the Manor, at least not from what they could tell. The Manor genuinely looked home-like with the gentle beams of fleeting golden sunlight.
The Manor had looked as though it had never felt the touch of time. It just needed a little dusting. That fact did not sit right in Technoblades stomach; he felt the uneasiness crawl through his veins as he looked to see how his brother was holding up.

Wilbur felt the exhilaration course through his veins like electricity. It distracted him from the anxiety slowly building up in his stomach; he thought the pressure had been enough to cause him to implode.
However, the centuries-old detailing, furniture, and general architecture now soothe his static soul. He and Technoblade decide to set up before the sun gets any lower and put their lamps around the room for when the time comes.

"This place is crazy. "Wilbur whispers as if they were in someone else's home. Well… they *were* in someone else's house- but Lord Dream wouldn't have much to say about it, considering the man's been dead since the 1700s.
Still, Wilbur couldn't shake the feeling that *someone* was listening, he felt the anxiety swell, but they made their way out of the room and back into the entryway.

"Why are you whispering?" Techno asks, raising an eyebrow, even though he speaks at an average volume; the echoes sound through the open areas as if someone was talking to them back. It gives Technoblade goosebumps, and he decides to keep his voice down.

"I'm glad you figured it out, smart ass," Wilbur huffs, clearly irritated, and looks up the staircase. "That's fuckin' weird" He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, pushing his hair back and holding the position.

They hadn't noticed it earlier, but on the landing of the second floor there's a massive painting, but they can't really catch all of it without making their way up-and knowing Wilbur's curiosity it would only be a matter of time until he had Technoblade in handcuffs going up the stairs with him.

They would hold off on that for now.

They reach the door parallel to their "home base" and push it open. The doors were large and heavy. They hadn't been moved in so long that the creak it lets out is practically nightmare-inducing on its own.

What they find on the other end makes Technoblade want to throw up his lunch. The room is bare except for a long red carpet leading to a throne-like chair and a small side table next to it.

On the table is a teacup on a saucer with pretty red floral designs, and the floor has light scratch marks indicating that all the furniture in the room had been moved by hand- however, it had been such a long time since then. Now every inch of the space was covered in a thick layer of dust.

Soft beams of light shine through the windows painting it all a deep gold color. They make their way in to investigate.

"This Dream guy was… very creative" Wilbur squints a bit and processes to make his way deeper into the room, Techno trailing behind.

Wilbur looks out the windows and notes the lavender and magenta sky. Wilbur's attention shifts to a soft clawing sound, and he and Technoblade glance at each other with wide eyes as they attempt to listen further. The outside world seemed much more beautiful from the walls of the Manor, even the sky putting on a show.

It's coming from under the throne.

Wilbur glances at Techno, who feels his breath stop and his eyes fixate on the chair. Wilbur's hands begin to sweat as he grips the satchel across his body tighter. His heartbeat accelerates to unnatural speeds in his chest. He can feel his body tremble.

Techno makes the first move as the scratches get louder; he charges for the chair giving it a hard shove, and stumbles back when a black, brown, and white tabby cat darts out from its spot. Wilbur lets out a loud shriek. Though he is silent, Techno would be lying if he didn't say his stomach didn't fall through his body and bit down hard on the inside of his cheeks.

The cat makes its way to the open doors in the entranceway and then takes a seat. The room by now is no longer coated in the beautiful golden rays as the darkness slowly creeps in on them.

The cat had bright green eyes and stared at the two, almost studying them as if it, too, was human. It glances at Wilbur but instantly fixates on Technoblade and the knife in his hand, Techno's hesitant demeanor shifts, and he too gives the cat his full, undivided attention.

Techno notices a little silk ribbon around the cat's neck with a tiny gold plate. He can't read the name from where he's standing, but he sure would like to. Something draws him to the strange animal, but Technoblade can't find it in him to put one foot in front of the other.

Techno stares so deep into the cat's eyes, unblinking, that he doesn't hear his brother calling for him until he's shaken back from his trance-like state to meet his brother's teary, panicked eyes. Wilburs breathing as if he just ran a marathon.

Techno shakes his head, turns to look back at the cat, and is unnerved when the animal is no longer sitting in its spot. He can still feel the eyes on him.

"Techno," He takes shallow breaths in. "Techno, what the fuck” His voice trembles, and tears threaten to spill. Technoblade noticed the firm grip that had brought him back to his senses was gone, and Wilbur's hands slid off his shoulders like melted butter.

"I was just staring at the cat-" Techno speaks softly, sheer guilt moving his body as if he were swaying on a boat in the ocean.

"The cat was gone for a while. You just kept staring at the entryway" Wilbur cuts him off, audibly gulping before he continues explaining, "You wouldn't move. I kept calling for you, and you just didn't - you couldn't- "
His breathing picks up again, and Techno takes in a deep breath, attempting to get Wilburs' breaths in line.

It takes a few seconds before Wilbur's breathing returns to normal.

"It's okay," Techno states calmly before stepping away from Wilbur to give him some well-deserved space.

Wilbur leaned against the window, feeling the cool glass press against his back, the night had just started, and he was already exhausted. But they couldn't leave now, not when the night had already begun.

Wilbur shuts his eyes, taking one long deep breath before snapping back into character.

"C'mon," Wilbur hums, melting away his brother's guilt in an instant, "we got a whole ass mansion to look at; we might as well explore it" Wilbur gives one of his classic glittering smiles, almost as bright as the moon and as elegant as the stars as he turns on his heel and makes his way out.

Technoblade follows behind quickly and makes sure to shut the door of the strange room behind him. It drives a soft click, and they continue onwards into the belly of the beast.
Technoblade walks over to the door on the left and pushes it open, having a mop and bucket come flying out. Wilbur can't help but laugh at the little gasp Techno had let out. Technos shoots him a glare and begins to pick up the spilled items.

On the other hand, Wilbur walks to the door on the right of the massive staircase and attempts to push it open, but it doesn't even budge. He huffs in frustration and tries one more time but to no avail. He would rather curl up and die than ask Technoblade for help and give him the satisfaction. He knew better than that, so he took a step back.

Studying the door notices a little keyhole and decides to just take a peek to see if the room was even worth finding the key for. He crouches and presses his forehead against the cool metal of the gold plate around the doorknob.

Pressing, shutting an eye, and peeking, he expects to see a tiny little supply room similar to the one Technoblade had found, either that or maybe a generally empty space like the hall across from theirs.
Instead, he is met with nothing.

Wilbur is more serious when he doesn't see anything but decides that the other room was most likely created as a private space for Dream and his servants and sighs, taking the loss.

He notes that it is now significantly darker and decides to enter their home base room to grab the batteries for their flashlights.

When he enters the main entry hall, he also notices Techno peaking through the keyhole on the right door. When he stands looking puzzled, Wilbur chuckles. He must have seen the darkness too.

He hands Technoblade a flashlight, takes note of his brother's mild irritation with the door, and pats his head.

"Don't worry, Techno, we got a whole other floor to look at" He chuckles and slowly makes his way up, one concrete step after the other. Technoblade follows suit and turns on his flashlight, and they make it to the top of the grand second-floor landing.
That's when they can better look at the painting they had noticed earlier. Three people were beautifully mastered in the picture, a blonde man in the middle with the kindest green eyes sitting on the same throne as the one downstairs; he's got a face full of scattered freckles.

His smile and expression are so warm that the painting alone is enough to ease Wilbur's growing nerves, like gentle sunlight on a spring day. He's wearing a light green and white suit with gold accents. He's so intricate and elegant that it must have taken the painter days to finish his clothes alone.

To his left is a tall man with long black hair and a five o'clock shadow. The painter had perfectly captured the fire behind the man's eyes. He's the one who's got Technoblades' full and undivided attention. He's wearing a complete set of armor and a large, broad sword on his hip made of black steel, with his chest puffed out and grin so wide Technoblade could already tell he must have been an insanely powerful man.

Then there's the final person on the right, a shorter man with neatly styled black hair accompanied by massive white-rimmed black glasses completely covering his eyes. He's wearing a lovely tailored light blue and white suit and has a more casual hand placed on the prominent figure's soldier, smug grin and all.

"Left to right," Technoblade reads the plaque on the bottom of the painting, "Knight Commander Sapnap, Lord Dream Was taken, Preceptor George," The moment Technoblade finishes. His head picks up soft whispering coming from the house's east wing and swallows thickly, diverting his attention back to the painting.

Wilbur assumes they heard the same thing, but neither is willing to know the strange sounds and continue onwards.

"So this was the" Wilbur lets out an exasperated sigh "how tragic," he mutters softly, then glances at the west wing, "They look so young" he then focuses on his shoes. They all seemed to look between the ages of twenty and twenty-five. Technoblade didn't even notice that.

They count the rooms, four doors on either wing leaving eight rooms on one floor. They stare at the painting a little longer but decide to keep moving in fear of the whispering. Wilbur wonders what this man did to get to this level of wealth. It was more than he'd ever seen in his whole life.

They go through room by room, lightening the mood and craving jokes, just enjoying the vintage nature of it all; Technobade asks Wilbur if he thinks he could take something as a souvenir as they make their way to the last room of the west wall.

Wilbur then feels as though he's being watched as he walks across the hall, as if all eyes in the world were on him at once, then he feels it.
Danger.
Wilbur whips his head left to face the east wing, he could see the other end of the branch, and of course, there's nothing there. However, the sheer fact that he somehow had gone into a frantic state of mind with seemingly nothing instigating it terrified him even more.

Wilbur knew better, though, as he stood in the middle of the hallway, watching his brother play with some of the nicknacks in the last room, completely unaware of the current situation.

He felt glued to his spot because somehow, someway, though he couldn't see it- Wilbur Craft knew for a damn fact that at the end of the east hall, there were eyes on him, watching his every single step, every single breath.
He feels his hands shake, and his head starts to spin, too afraid to take another look down the hall, fearing that he will see what is staring him down.
Wilbur puts his head down and pushes forward, barely able to make it into the room, and shuts the door behind him. The wave of relief that washes over him is like a blessing from God as Tecno glances at him with an eye raised.

"Did I miss something?" Techno asks, looking more confused than anything. Using his years of theater skills, Wilbur tucks away any remaining anxiety in the back of his head for another time.

"Nah, I was just thinking about what Phil was up to, y'know?" He hums and puts on the best character he can. "You know how he can sometimes be. The man is like eighty thousand years old," Wilbur snorts and looks at the other things in the room.

Wilbur does not want to leave the comfort of the room. He doesn't want to take his chances with whatever beast was out there… just watching…

"He's not that old," Techno grumbles, frowning deeply. "Call him old again, and ill gut you," he insists. "Now help me look for a key" Technoblade looks incredibly determined, rummaging through the drawers of the dressers.

"Keys to what?" Wilbur asks with a frown. He had been with him the whole time... he couldn't think of something they would need a key for other than the mystery door on the first floor.

"The kitchen?" Techno raises an eyebrow and looks at Wilbur as if he had sprouted three heads "The one we peaked through?"

How would Technoblade have known that room was a kitchen if the keyhole was wholly blacked out? Then it hits him.

Something must have been standing in front of the doorway, then moved.

"Earth to Wilbur-"

Technoblades are cut off by the sound of footsteps in the hall outside. They are coming from the east end. Wilbur's heart nearly stops in his chest. He can practically see stars.

Both of their heads snap to the door when they hear it get closer… step… after step… after step. Technoblade doesn't take any chances as Wilbur once more freezes on the spot. He wants to help his brother, but the fear and uneasiness from earlier possess him, and he stays put obediently.

Techno prepares his blade and shoulder, ready to ram whatever was slowly dragging himself down the hall. Inching closer… and closer... Until Techno knows whatever it is, it is now directly outside the door.

It all takes one second.

Technoblade pushes the door open as hard as he can; big, strong Technoblade, with all his strength, uses the door to hit whatever is on the other end. Hard.

There is a loud thud as whatever it was hit the ground. Technoblade moves the door out of the way in one swift motion, and that's when all his expectations shatter with one solid look.

In front of him was not a terrifying beast from the 1700s ready to tear his face off and murder his brother- but rather a literal child. He couldn't be more than thirteen years old with messy, untamed blonde hair flying off in every direction; and eyes a shade of blue brighter than the sky itself.

The best way to describe the kid would be the literal sun itself, even if he was glaring daggers at him. He was in some cargo shorts and a t-shirt so big he might as well be swimming in it. His badly beaten Allstars had seen better days and were a completely different color when he initially got them, and on his back, he had a sizeable black bookbag loosely hanging off his shoulder.

The child opens his mouth, frowning deeply, and takes the deepest inhale, ready to destroy Techno's existence. Technoblade quickly steps back into the room, shuts the door, and whips around to look at his brother, whose soul was checked out a long time ago.
"Wilbur?" He loudly whispers. "We have a bit of a problem."

Chapter Text

Wilbur takes one look into his deranged brother's eyes and suddenly decides that he is okay with death. Well, he didn’t have much of a choice but to be okay with it, considering the thing that made Techno look so petrified was right outside the door.

“It’s a kid.” Techno's claim is spastic. He looks like he saw a damn ghost. It had to be a ghost or worse. Suddenly, Wilbur’s panic pours right out of his body and is exchanged with a strange sense of calm.

He pulls himself together and stares at his brother with a cocked eyebrow; this was one of the top ten least funny Technoblade jokes ever made, and he’s made some pretty bad ones in the past.

“A what?” Wilbur asks just to make sure he heard his brother correctly, and if he did he was going to make sure Techno didn’t speak for the rest of the night.

“A fucking kid, Will, I swear to god,” Techno swears for the first time in ages. He had kicked the habit a while ago after he got nagged by Phil; calling your teachers a ‘fucking dumbass moron’ was not the best way to prove your point.

“Technoblade, I love you right? But I’m going to fucking skin you-“ He’s cut off by the persistent boy in front of him, some of his baby hairs have started poking out of the sides of his ponytail.

“Wilbur, why would I joke about this!? There’s a whole ass child-“ He continues to yell yet whisper at the same time, even if there was someone at the other side of the door surely they could hear every word of Technos meltdown.

“Oi! If you dumb fucks are done arguing in there, I’d like to kick the bitch’s ass who knocked down me with a fucking door.” That was the most cursed word Wilbur has ever heard anyone use in one single sentence.

“There’s a child out there.” Wilbur whispers and his eyes are blown as wide as Technoblade now.

“No shit, Sherlock, that's what I was just saying you damn-“ he is once more cut off by the knocking, followed by the same voice.

“Y'know I can still hear you right? ‘Ooooo it's a child, so scary!’ Come out and say it to my face, you pusssies!” The boy on the other end seems to have an endless pit of energy somewhere in him which makes it sort of enticing for the two brothers.

Wilbur makes it past Techno and swings the door open, and just like Techno had claimed earlier, stood a literal child. Any shred of Wilbur’s sense of fear is melted away with the sight of something so small and turns to face his brother.

“This is who spooked you so badly?” Wilbur asks, the frown painting his face only deepening. Techno has never been scared by anything ever, however, tonight was the night for changing things up.

“I- he was- I thought we were alone-“

“You thought you were alone!? I thought I was alone, and suddenly I hear two baboons clamberin' around and when I go to say hi and introduce myself like a proper man- I GET A KNIFE PULLED ON ME?- I should have called the cops! You’re lucky I’m so nice and kind and amazing and generous, honestly.”

The boy is rocking back and forth on the heels of his sneakers and runs a bandaid-covered hand through his hair. They were Up and Finding Nemo-themed. Wilbur finds the kid a bit endearing, Technoblade has never heard someone say so much of nothing before.

“You scared the living shit out of my brother,” Wilbur chimes in using a very sing-songy tone, deciding to feed into the chaotic nature of the child.”Honestly, it was really funny, you have my respect.” Wilbur nods before leaning against the wall letting the kid walk in properly. The kid scrunches his nose and frowns, turning to look at Wilbur.

“I don't need the validation of a theater kid wanna-be. Hey, smart-ass, Hamilton auditions start in the spring… maybe you could be Peggy if you tried hard enough.” The menace speaks in a playfully venomous way. Even Techno who is recuperating in the corner comments a bit of a snicker. Wilbur’s face plunges into a deep red color, inhaling sharply, chest swelling with pride.

“I wasn’t giving you validation! I was just saying it was funny, that’s all! Even if I was a theater kid- which I am not- I wouldn't get such a minor role like Peggy!” Wilbur says all too quickly, losing all the air in his lungs at once.

Technoblade frowns, looking genuinely confused.

“What's your problem, why do you look like that?” Wilbur asks Techno sharply, who raises his eyebrows in surprise at the hostility.

“Oh, I just didn’t know we were lying today.” Techno hums softly and tilts his head to the side. Yeah... Wilbur was going to skin him. Wilbur opens his mouth, ready to fight to the bitter end against his now rival- once friend…once brother. Was he being dramatic? Maybe, but life was more fun this way. But that was for another time. They have a guest.

“So what’s your name rat boy?“ Wilbur asks, making his way to the door to get a better look at the kid; he looks down. It’s shocking how similar he and Technoblade are in height.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say rat. Maybe more raccoon. Three of them in a trench coat.” Techno chimes in, studying the boy with incredibly focused eyes.

“Are you dumb?” Wilbur shoots at Techno without zero thought, as if the phrase was second nature.

“Are you?” Technoblade shoots back the same energy that Wilbur gave him, not liking the taste of his own medicine, Wilbur's mouth stays shut. Thank God.

“Oh. My. God.” The child groans rolling his eyes so far back he stumbles backward a bit. “My name is Tommy- just Tommy. Not rat boy, not a raccoon, just.. Tommy.” Technoblade enjoyed the people who wore their hearts on their sleeve; it’s a lot easier to keep a conversation going that way. A lot less work.

“If I was an animal I would surely be something much cooler than some raccoon.” His face scrunches up once more, Wilbur fights the urge to pinch his cheeks like some grandmother.

“Tommy,” Technoblade repeats back, face returning to its natural state of neutrality. “Cool name,” He states in a voice that Wilbur finds very, painfully boring. “Means twin.” He points out and it makes Tommy laugh.

“Oh yeah? What are you? Google? The library?” Tommy asks, snorting a little, and leans forward. Tommy reminds Wilbur a lot of Peter Pan, very loud and very…flamboyant. “Ye who shall tell me thy name shall get a prophecy told!” Tommy laughs at his own jokes.

“Actually,”

Oh lord, Wilbur knows where this is going and covers his ears not wanting to listen to this lecture again

“Ye was never a thing in the English language. It was originally a letter called thorn. It made the ‘th’ sound but we mistranslated it over the years because of the popularization of the printing and press, which made the letter look like a Y and so what was supposed to be ‘the’ became ‘ye’.” Techno nods a bit, expecting the same groans and uninterested look.

Instead, Tommy’s eyes seemed to gleam as he inched closer as a kindergartener would about any interesting story ever. It takes him back a second.

“Really!? What did thorn even look like?” Tommy asks, absolutely enthralled. With the way Tommy’s looking at Techno, it’s like he could listen to him talk letters all day. Techno quietly holds out his finger and draws it in the air, making the ‘þ’ letter.

Tommy’s smile only grows wider as he whips his head around to look at Wilbur “get a load of this guy!” He lets out the most sincere laugh and hums happily.

“What about you dipshit, what do you know?” He asks Wilbur who was truly caught off guard. He stammers his words trying to find something cool he could wow Tommy within an instant.

“I play music” He proclaims; remembering his sweet guitar in the cold, empty music room. “Guitar, piano, and a few other things.” He says softly, hoping it would be enough to be as impressive as Technoblade was. The glimmering light in Tommy’s eyes as he looks at the two brothers is more than satisfying.

“Oh, wait! There’s a huge piano upstairs! We should go! You can play something super haunting for this creepy ass house,” He lets out a shrill of laughter and is already turning on his heel into the hall, swinging back and forth happily.

After only a few steps, he slows down greatly and begins to turn to the two boys, who haven’t moved as quickly as the golden-haired child. “Hold on, what’s your guyses name?” He asks, bright blue eyes wide with wonder.

“I’m Technoblade, that’s Wilbur” Techno gently points out, following the kid right out the door. This place was dangerous and he wasn’t ready to be traumatized if something did happen to him.

“Whoever named you must have hated you both.” He points out, tilting his head to the side, and begins to make his way down the west wing. As Wilbur shuts the door behind him, he sees something. Standing in the darkness of the room, all the way in the back corner- he points his flashlight at it, just to make sure that it wasn’t some sort of furniture.

Maybe it’s the cat from earlier, he thinks. When the light lands on the corner there is nothing there, the room is painfully empty. He feels his heart rise into his throat but swallows it as he hears Tommy call for him by the main staircase, right next to the painting. Right before closing the door, he sees it.

Smiling at him.

He would tell Technoblade personally, he didn’t want to worry Tommy. However, his plan melts away when he sees Tommy holding up Technos phone for a picture. Smiling, stretching his arm out far for the photos.

“Wilbur!” Tommy laughs and spams the photo button as Wilbur makes his way over, deciding that his mind was playing tricks on him. He makes it to the group and Tommy looks up at him, holding Techno’s phone with both hands, he's holding it close to his chest.

A devious grin paints his face as he takes many photos, some of himself, some of Techno, some of Will… and some of just general scenery.

“Ugh, I don't know how Techno lets you touch his phone, you’re probably sticky.” Wilbur's nose scrunches up, causing Tommy to stick his tongue out.

“I’m not sticky, for your information. I showered before my big birthday adventure.” Tommy nods triumphantly, letting out a little huff. “I just turned fourteen, so no Wilbur I'm not sticky, you fucking dickhead”

“You’re only fourteen?” Techno looks at him raising an eyebrow, a little mad about the whole height thing.

“Damn straight!” He laughs and makes his way over to the railings, propping himself up to stand on it so he's looming over the others. Wilbur and Techno lurch forward, arms out trying to grab Tommy and pull him back over the railing so he doesn't slip, fall and bust his head.

However, just as Techno’s fingertips were a mere millimeter away from Tommy’s shirt, he jumps down and dodges their attempts to grab him. Both Wilbur and Techno look at each other with wide eyes and heaving breaths.

“Whoa whoa whoa! Hands off the merchandise! I work hard to look this good- they call me the lady killer in school-“ The boy cuts himself off mid-sentence to stare at some random items around the great hall before zeroing back in. “not cus I like- kill ladies- I love them too much for that,” He nods as if that was a question going through either Wilbur or Technoblade’s head right now.

Tommy looks around then spins on his heel, deciding he would be the group leader, and starts making his way down the east wing. The wing they both had been purposely avoiding. Charles Darwin was wrong about evolution and Tommy is walking proof of it, for it was real, Tommy would have been selected.

He is seemingly unaffected by the looming feeling of death and decay that crawls around every corner of the hall, let alone the rooms. Then it hits them both; maybe Tommy simply did not know the story. So with a small telepathic convention, they decide to ask as they make their way down the hall to the staircase to the end.

“Tommy?” Wilbur asks with a shaky voice, slightly grasping the back of Technos shirt. Technoblade walks a little behind Tommy, trying to keep up with his endless energy. “How did you uh- find this place?” He asks as they pass by each door, the aura growing increasingly more and more dangerous. It was almost suffocating how persistent this feeling was since they began their explorations.

“Oh! So, my dad, Sam was like,

‘Tommy what do you want for your birthday

And I said

‘Oh, father dearest I do not know!’

And he said

‘Pick my son, anything in the world!’

And I said

‘Well… may I please have my adventure where Quackity, my older brother,”

He does all the voices in his little story then stops to catch his breath slightly.

“Does not have to accompany me? And after hours of convincing, he let me have my adventure in the woods!” He nods and rummages through his beat-up dark green bag. “he packed my bag- I got all kinds of cool shit in here.” he sighs “I got bandaids, a sandwich, a protein bar, water- you name it!” He laughs then whips around. “I don't have anymore though, so I can’t share. sorry,” he frowns and continues onwards as they make their way to the staircase finally and head to the third floor.

“Then I picked a direction and started walking! And here we are!” He laughs happily. “I found this cool ass place, I was exploring it till I heard you guys and you guys know the rest. '' he nods with all the confidence in the world as they reach the landing to the third floor. The two brothers simply glace at each other.

It’s a large entryway that splits off into all four cardinal directions with them coming up the side. There are little metal staircases at the end of each hall, leading to what must be a greenhouse on the top floor.

They look around and can’t help but notice the little details. However, Wilbur was less afraid with Tommy’s exuberant nature and Techno's strength; he feels like he can almost relax here. This floor doesn’t seem to have the suffocating nature of the one downstairs.

As they make their way down the north hall Techno can’t help but frown as he studies Tommy, he looks way too pale, he wonders if this kid has ever even left the house before. Tommy nearly looks transparent, Techno sighs and they continue forwards. They enter what seems to be a study.

“So, let Tommy tell yall a little story, apparently this dude, Dream- Shit name I know- owned this place n’ this was like his work area thing” Tommy nods feeling so proud of him for being able to contribute something to the team.

He just wants to be useful, he doesn’t wanna babysat; this was *his* birthday adventure, after all, celebrating being a big man! “I found these if you wanna read it. '' He holds out some crumpled old-looking papers and hands them off to Techno who takes them happily and looks around the room. Techno opens a small leather book tucked away at the side of the desk

“Hey Toms, where’s that piano?” Wilbur asks and Tommy rushes out immediately as another burst of energy runs through him.

“I'm so glad you asked! Right this way, kind sir!” Tommy swings one leg in front of the other dramatically, he likes the nickname- he's never been given one before. Technoblade seems too infatuated with the books to go on with them.

“You guys can go, I wanna look at these.” Technoblade hums softly sitting on the centuries-old leather chair, it wasn’t a bad sit, very comfy, 10/10 in his ranking of old chairs he’s sat in.

“Are you sure you wanna be alone? The-“ Wilbur asks just to be cut off abruptly

“Yeah, I just really wanna read these- this floor is small, I'll come to find you when I'm done. Anyway, someone’s gotta make sure that kid doesn’t die.” Techno lets out a little reassuring chuckle and leans back in the chair, ah, if only he were the lord of a massive estate. He wouldn’t lose his marbles like this guy though, he’s too cool for that.

“Yeah… alright Techno- please call me in ten minutes at least? If you don’t I'll come back here” he nods with a deep frown

“Bro, are you just going to sit there and talk, or are you gonna show off to a fourteen-year-old?” Techno asks with a light chuckle. Wilbur smiles and walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him leaving Technoblade alone with his devices.

Wilbur turns left.

Chapter Text

Now, there are a few things you need to know about Technoblade. One: he loves himself a good baked potato, well- any kind of potato… What can he say? He enjoys the smaller things in life. Two: he hates competition; which is ironic for his position but the pressure from his peers and the calculations are the last things he'd rather do. And three: he loves a good story, and boy, did he have one right in front of him.

Techno had opened the book, a little leather pocketbook with deep yellow pages and faded black ink. The handwriting is muddy as he flips through the pages delicately.

He feels as though his breath on the pages will cause them to fall apart in his hands. The book consists of random times, dates, and meetings Lord Wastaken probably attended. Technoblade notices the dates get much closer together and eventually they just stop.

Technoblade, now completing the first part of the puzzle, calmly glides throughout the room looking at each book on the shelves. He was looking for some sort of secret; he wants to know how such a successful man could have possibly fallen from grace. He wants to know how he became the monster he is now.

Techno slides another useless business book back on the shelf and groans. His eagerness slowly pours out of his body as he comes across a whole lot of nothing. Dead ends everywhere.

The more he looks at the office covered wall-to-wall with books, he notes how all these papers were ironically filled with nothing of personal value. As he turns on his heel to meet the others, he notices it. The light from his flashlight was being reflected against something metal, in a small crack under the floorboards by the window. Bingo.

Techno makes his way over and smirks. Of course, the Lord of such a massive manor wouldn't have his items lying out in the open… Techno respects the man for his desire for privacy but also applauds himself for finding the secret spot.

He drops to the floor and balances the flashlight between his shoulder and head as he pulls at the centuries-old floorboards. They were not that hard to pull up; Technoblade expected more resistance until he noticed the area had some water damage from the window having a few cracks.

Under the floorboards was a thick iron safe with an equally as heavy lock. Great, just his luck. Technos frown only deepens, sitting back on his heels, and turns his nose up in annoyance. Is he going to let some billion-year lock set up by some crazy man tell him what to do? Not at all.

Techno looks around for a code that could have been hidden anywhere amongst the millions of books on the shelves. He sat for a few seconds, deep in thought- Technoblade is doing somersaults thinking about what this mad man could have possibly thought of.

In a moment of frustration he hits the safe, not with his whole strength, no this was just a bit of a frustrated tap, so when the lock practically pops off the rusted, decrepit looking safe he only blinks.

Was he going to think about how the safe was made of iron and was well oxidized at this point? How the wind alone could have made the lock come apart? Nope, he was too excited to see what was inside.

He prys open the safe and inside lays a single book. Technoblade reaches down and pulls the book out of the safe. It was one of the most beautiful items Techno would ever touch in his life. It was an obsidian-colored book with shimmering gold engravings of an intricate pattern on the front.

Since it was so sealed off from the rest of the world, it was still in very good condition… almost too good of a condition. It felt brand new, for a book that was probably made a few centuries ago. Technoblade stands and makes his way to the massive mahogany desk behind him. In the dark with nothing but the company of the books around him, Techno prepares to read the words of a madman.

He opens the book gently and smiles at the neat script decorating the off-white pages; gently gliding a finger turning each page with care, and begins to read.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dream shuts his eyes and inhales deeply, letting the fresh warm air of the spring fill his lungs, feeling the gentle breeze brush past his skin, lightly tossing his hair a bit. The leaves on the trees whisper as he can hear the murmuring of talking in the distance. He opens his eyes to look at his magnum opus, his new home, his manor.

It was an elegant home, with the details on the exterior being enough to put any other manor to shame. No other Lord could hold a candle to the riches Dream had acquired, the success he had guiding his people to a life of prosperity was more than clear as the town shower their Lord in the most divine riches.

He had brought them stability, economic and otherwise; which was more than the town could ever ask for. With this, Lord Dream was loved by the people, and in return the people loved him.

They had nearly begged the man to stay, offering all they could. So, Dream had accepted. With that, all of the town's most skilled artisans had created an abode to suit their Lord’s every need.

Dream was proud of their efforts, now that he had a place to stay so close to town; he could spend more time pleasing the masses. Dream spins on his heel when he hears the chatting get closer and meets the eye of his most treasured advisors.

In front of him, towering high stood Knight Commander Sapnap, with the strength of a thousand men; Dream had watched as the beginner soldier plowed his way through the battlefield, no man in the world had possessed the sheer willpower this man did.

The soldier had served under Dream's command when Dream still went by “Young Lord Wastaken”, however, they fought side by side and in the heat of battle and had sworn an oath to one another. An oath of loyalty and brothership. For his bravery, Dream had told the King about the valiant effort and sheer talent Sapnap held in battle which piqued the King's interest.

Years had passed, and Dream had not heard from his comrade in two solid years, until one day, while Dream had been lounging about after a week of hard work, he was greeted by none other than Sapnap himself.

The King had sent Sapnap to once again serve under Lord Dream but this time, as his protector. Dream watched as the now decorated knight made strong confident steps towards him. Sapnap kneels, bowing his head in respect. Dream hums with a rather cocky expression.

“Sapnap.” He states in a cold tone.

“Dream.” Sapnap shoots back with the same ice.

“It's Lord Wastaken to you,” He tilts his head to the side studying the man in front of him.

“It's Knight Commander Sapnap to you.” Sapnap glares daggers into Dreams' soul.

The two fought a battle of brooding glances before bursting out laughing. The joyful laughter fills the halls of the bustling manor and Dream stands from his red and gold throne opening his arms for a proper embrace.

Sapnap wastes no time launching himself at his brother in battle and pulls him into a tight hug, knocking over Dreams floral painted cup of tea. Dream hugs him back tightly before pulling away and ruffling the beast's hair playfully.

The two had made an oath they intended on keeping till the end of time.

Dream glances at the shorter man between the two. Black hair was neatly done and a pair of tinted pince-nez sat on the bridge of his nose. Dream remembers meeting the brunette George, and as he remembers the story, he chuckles softly to himself.

George had been a part of the King’s team of advisors; however, during each meeting Dream had noticed the brunette was interested in anything except the plans on the table.

To be fair, they had never asked him for his opinion, they had put him in the corner to act as a sort of doll and so after the meeting Dream followed the brunette, trying to think of what to say to him.

The shorter man turns the corner and just as Dream follows, he's met with the hard thump of a book straight to his head. He stumbles back and sees the man clutching his book of notes in his hands ready to strike again.

“C’mon tough guy,” He glares a look colder than any metal and sharper than any blade, Dream is only more intrigued.

“Wait wait wait wait!” Dream shouts, rubbing his head. “I just- I just wanted to talk- you didn't speak at the meeting but you had a lot of notes- I just wanted to see what you were writing!”

The brunette realizes he had just hit Lord Dream in the face, and his stomach drops. Oh man, he was never going to hear the end of it. George weighs his options… he could continue his antics and get in trouble with both a powerful Lord and his King, or he could just give Lord Idiot his notes.

George picks both, drops his little booklet on the floor, turns on his heel, and walks away. Dream stares and lets him go, he wasn't going to force someone to talk to him if they didn't want to. He picks up the book and spends the rest of the afternoon combing through the messy script writing, the name ‘George’ messily scribbled on the center of the first page.

By the evening, he concludes that this single advisor has more of a brain than any of the others sitting in the royal court. Dream had until tomorrow morning to convince him to come with him. He knows under the right guidance, this man could rise well above his station.

Dream spends the whole night searching for George, but it seems as though this man had disappeared into thin air the moment the book landed on the floor. He is just about to give up as the moon shines at the highest point in the sky.

On his walk through the courtyard back to his room, he spots George looking down at the pond, listening to the movement of the water. He seems deep in thought as the little fish swims around.

“George?” Dream speaks softly to not frighten the other. George doesn't turn, but Dream can see somewhat that he is no longer wearing his spectacles, and in such casual clothing Dream fights back a laugh; he’s never seen a tunic dyed as blue as his.

“Can I help you?” He asks, refusing to acknowledge Dream's title. But there’s something about the way Dream speaks, his sheer smile is enough to anger George.

“I wanted to return this to you.” he holds up the book “I, uh... I liked your ideas.” He says, looking up at the moon for a moment then back at George. “I think you're brilliant.” Dream’s grin begins to grow more and more after his brief statement. Even though the moonbeams bathed the earth in a gentle light, George felt as though the sun was right in front of him. “I want you on my team.”

George rolls his eyes and finally turns to face Dream. “You do realize I am a King's advisor? It would be a major downgrade if I became a part of your court- you can't offer me what he does-”

“You're right. I can't offer you nearly as much as he does. But I can offer an ear-”

“What?” Georges's face raises in pure shock, the tone in his voice rising.

“An ear, I'm willing to listen to every word, every idea. I saw the way they treat you back there George.” Dream’s voice becomes more demanding, no… more assertive. “You and I both know you can do so much more.

Come with me, and I promise you a life where you can speak.” Dream holds out his hands, one still gripping the book the man had whacked him with only a couple of hours prior.

George turns and walks off silently, face red with anger. Who did this guy think he was? George hears him call out one last time.

“I'm here until the morning, that'll be your last chance.”

In the morning Dreams anxiety peaks. There had been no sign of George all morning nor had the others heard or seen of him. They go through the motions with their formal goodbyes after breakfast, he turns once more just to check, nothing.

He frowns and makes his way up the carriage when he hears it. George is dragging a case behind him with the head advisor cursing him out as he runs towards Dream.

“AND STAY OUT YOU DISRESPECTFUL RAT!” The man's voice shakes heaven and earth. Dream grabs George's bag and tosses it with the rest of his things and they pile into the carriage and take off before the raging man can say anything else.

The two stared at each other, breathing hitched- Dream’s smile only widened when he saw the life sparkle in George's previously dead eyes. This was a whole new man in front of him.

“Preceptor George, at your service my Lord.” He holds out his hand, Dream eagerly shakes it, with a smile that would make the Sun jealous.

The three had become an unstoppable force, taking on the world with the King's endorsement. On top of it all, Lord Dream Wastakens' family only grew. After George came treasurer Halo who oversaw the house's finances; executive officer Punz, who was brought in with Sapnap. The soldier had told Dream about how well his swordsmanship had been and decided that it’d be best to keep him close.

Not everything could be as bright as Dream had set it up to be. Soon enough, other Lords began to envy Dream's position and even his favor with the King. This jealousy infected even higher-ranking nobles. Dream had felt as though his days were numbered, as the threats increased and became more and more violent.

Lord Dream had moved into the manor in the spring when the cherry blossoms were at their most vibrant, covering the surrounding area in a sea of pink and white with each breeze.

Dream had noticed red spider lilies begging to surround the manor, though the others urged him to get rid of the pests, with George warning him of their bad omens, Dream kept them. He was not one to run from his fate.

It was only a matter of time until the others had begun to execute their plan of removing Lord Dream from his positions, and they started with the people who loved him most. They started economically, targeting the jobs that Dream had been able to create for them, shutting Dreams businesses down from the outside. This was a long-term plan and over the year the town had begun to fall into a sort of economic collapse not even Dream could fix.

What started as beneficial meetings where Dream had tried to reason with the other Lords and nobles slowly melted into the once powerful Lord begging the others to take pity on his subjects, telling them that if they had an issue with him to not take it out on the innocent families below. However, his cries fell on deaf ears.

It had taken weeks before groups of families began preying in the Lord’s town, and his patience was wearing thin, as reasoning with them had fallen through. He had spent most of his days cooped up in the manor, trying to silently devise plans to fight back the next time they struck. He was always interrupted by someone in the manor asking him for something or telling him about a townsperson coming to file their complaints on the lack of action.

So he got a pair of books, one for his safekeeping; one for anyone to come across. This became an issue later on, as, during one of the Lord's meetings, one of the nobles had ripped a page from his ‘private eyes’ book, turning what was him writing out his grievances into posters spread around the town. Fabricating stories of Dream hearing voices and him wanting to paint the town red with his enemies.

Now more townspeople were coming to the manor, asking for Dream. Every week, three more showed up. And more, and more. There was a week when almost every single member of the town had shown up at the gates, and the red spider lilies had begun to surround the manor.

Dream understood that his doom was written in the stars, and was finally prepared to take action. He understood that keeping the other servants here would mean putting them in danger, so, one by one Dream bid them all farewell. All but two.

“You two have been there since the beginning.” Dream pats them both on their shoulders, lightly bowing his head, showing the most respect he can give to his best mates.

“And we’ll be there for the end.” Sapnap states, straightening himself out; Sapnap has yet to lose a battle, but the overwhelming sense of dread slowly creeps in making a home in his bones.

Dream takes his hands off their shoulders, and dusts himself off, taking a deep breath. “I'm going to fall back, to see if I can hear them out one more time.”

“I told you we should have gotten rid of those gross flowers when they came up, idiot,” George says quietly, his best attempt at a joke given the circumstances. ”they don't even smell that nice,” looking out the window; seeing nothing but red. This is the worst way to go, in George’s opinion.

“I can’t change my fate. The only thing I can do is make it easier.”

“You can still avoid it. Fake a mutiny, something! Don’t just-” Sapnap begins to stir, visibly upset at how easily Dream’s giving up.

The fire in Dreams' eyes grew duller with every passing moment, it pained Sapnap to see the once-proud leader melt into a whisper of a flame.

“No. I can’t go out any other way, Sapnap. You know that. You’ve heard them out there in the streets.”

“So what's your plan, huh? You're going to sit here? Like a bitch? what, you gonna wait for your prince to save you?” Sapnap says, gripping the mast of his sword, and preparing to hand it to his best friend. Dream quickly places his hand on Sapnap’s, giving him a look that Sapnapis all too familiar with, and puts his sword back in its sheath.

“Remember our oath, Knight Commander Sapnap?” Dream smiles slightly, but his eyes tell a different story.

“Yes, my Lord. I remember.” Sapnap huffs in defeat.

Sapnap pulls Dream into a warm embrace for what feels like the last time, Dream whispers to him something George can’t seem to make out. After the two separate, Dream turns to George, smile beaming as bright, but again, the eyes aren’t quite the same.

“Give me seventy hours. Once those hours are up and I don’t meet you guys at the rendezvous, make it back here. Understood?” Dream says sternly, trying to get the information across to them both as well as possible. He was their Lord after all.

“Understood, my Lord. Three days, and we’ll look for you.” George speaks in a formal tone Dream hasn't heard in a while.

“Excellent. Now, go. I have some business to attend to.” Dream waves them off, turning on his heel before they can turn on their own. He doesn’t want to see them walk away from him, not after everything he’s worked so hard for.

For the first twenty-four hours, Dream does the heavy work; moving furniture, prepping his valuables for easy access, tending to his greenhouse.

He writes in his ‘public eye’ book, making note of anything that might be useful in case he survives, however unlikely that may be. He also makes notes of things someone else might need if they take this manor; contacts for food and a letter to be sent to the King in case he never finds out how his little Lord had passed.

Forty-eight hours in, he does absolutely nothing but drinks. He’s never been one to drink, except socially. One time, George gave him a stern lecture the morning after. Dream thought he wouldn't be very happy to hear he drank while they were gone.

It might be best to leave some behind to the people who have treated him so well, but then he remembers those same people are planning to kill him, so the best thing to do is just keep drinking. He tried to write some more, but he stopped when he started writing with the wrong hand and cried about how ugly his handwriting got.

In the morning, he had begun to clean, putting everything away in the place his servants would leave for him. He took a bath, fixed his hair, and got dressed; a black blazer with a silk lime green lining was his best piece. He had a matching silk green handkerchief, but it had black stitching, with his family’s crest. He had always wanted to use it but now seemed to be as good a time as any.

He prepared himself a cup of tea, grabbing a painted cup and saucer, with red and blue flowers decorating the sides. They reminded him of his best friends, his family. It was the last semblance of warmth he had left in these now freezing walls.

He began to think about them as the water boiled, thinking about his favorite moments with them. Sapnap had coerced him into playing a prank on one of the lower ranks during training, constantly mocking the Lord by saying “Young Lord Wastaken, oh Young Lord!”.

He also remembers the glow of the moon on them both as they ran across the field, dodging guards left and right. He remembers the nights he and George spent writing out plans together and laughing about George's grievances with the King.

He remembers the moonglow that was always brighter than usual on George, even on the night he first spoke to him (and hit him). His heart warms and breaks at the same time, the whistle of the kettle growing louder and louder, snapping Dream out of it, rushing to prepare his tea.

He carries his favorite teacup with him back to the crown room, the long carpet softening the sound of the click in his heels. Everything felt quiet to Dream, the shadows on the walls speak louder than he does anymore.

After counting the ridges in each chair arm on his throne, dream slouched further and further. He was tired of waiting for his death- he didn't think it would be this boring, but he already knew it would be today, it had to. He couldn’t have prepared his whole manor for them to reschedule their scheduled overthrow to next week.

And then he hears it; the loud thud of the chained gates, the loud footsteps, and shouts coming from in the front of the property. Dream sits properly, just like how George taught him to, and begins to count from thirty. His hands trembled as he takes a sip of tea. He had predicted it would not take them long to injure him, so he was counting down for the first hit.

He was wrong. It was eighteen seconds, for the first blade to contact his skin, and for a fist to meet his jaw.

The rest of the way being carried back to the town square for their execution was a blur. The
The sunset he was seeing was one to die for.

He’s forever fortunate that the town square was on top of a hill because the view the town gave him was the best he had seen in his life; red to blue. He closed his eyes, just as he felt the man behind him let go of the rope.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Technoblades hands trembled as he finished reading the pages of Dreams Diary, the mad had been nothing but kind and was simply met by the wrath of all those who loved him. Techno had put the whole story together with the papers Tommy had brought him and now part of him wished that he wasn't so headstrong.

His heart hurt or the man who once poured compassion into everything he had done, the man who felt no hate even when the guillotine came crashing down. His heart hurts for Sapnap and George who loved him and waited until the bitter end. He wonders how they reacted to the news of-

“Techno!” Technoblade hears Wilbur call his name and snaps out of his trance-like state. He puts the book and the ripped pages into his bag and makes his way to the door, turning to get one more look at the office before shutting the door behind him.

He looks around before he hears Wilbur call for him again, he hears Tommy loudly playing the piano down the hall and singing and starts to get annoyed. How the hell did Wilbur leave the kid all on his own in a place like this? He re-ties his ponytail and heads off in the direction of his brother's voice.

Technoblade turns left.

He storms down the hall ready to drag Wilbur's ass back to Tommy and rip him another one when he hears Wilbur's laughing voice call for him once more

“Technoblade!” The laughter is at the last door at the end of the hall on the right. Techno swings open the door and barges in

“Wilbur how the hell did you leave a fourteen-year-old alone in a-” Techno makes it halfway into the room when he realizes.

Wilbur isn't there.

Technoblade's blood runs cold and eyes are shocked open and wide, ready and on alert. He takes a quick second to look at the area around him, maybe Wilbur was hiding? He seems to be in a sort of maid's quarters, with two beds on the side of the room and a ladder leading to an upper loft area where there were two more beds.

Technoblades heart stops. He smells a thick cologne one that smells over-bearing yet expensive, it fills the room practically suffocating techno as he coughs, the small contained coughs soon turn into fits of wheezing as he slams into the cabinets on the back wall, shaking his head.

In a teary coughing fit he glances up at the loft and he suddenly loses the strength in his legs as he sees it. The mass of darkness trying to pretend to be human. A dark grin exposing all the teeth in the demon's mouth and the empty holes it called eyes started into the depths of his soul.

“Technoblade!” it- no- Dream calls out in Wilbur's voice. Dream who had always been smiling a kind smile had now been cursed to smile for all eternity.

“SHUT UP” Technoblade screeches “SHUT UP SHUT UP” he goes again but it won't stop. It won't stop clinging to borrowed time. Technoblade tries to run for the open door but is pulled back. His hair is caught on the cabinet handle. The demon won't stop saying his name, he goes on again and again until it no longer sounds like Wilbur- until it no longer sounds human.

Techno tries, again and again, to free himself from the cabinet and begins to rush when he sees the thing slowly move closer each time Technoblade blinks or looks away. The demon inches closer and the smell only gets stronger causing Technoblades eyes to blur as he coughs louder.

The demon's voice is making him light-headed as it chants his name, his vision becomes muddled and patchy. In a last-ditch attempt he fumbles for the blade in his pocket, unsheathing it letting the other end hit the ground as he reaches behind him, and in one swift motion cuts his hair.

It takes more than one try as he desperately slashes at the mop of hair until he's free and sprints, dodges the demon by a split second, and runs for the door, tripping over himself. The door slams shut as he tries to pull himself back up. The demon sounds like him now, shouting

“SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP” over and over and over again. Techno slams against the door over and over again trying to scream with his already sore throat, banging with all his strength but as the Demon got closer the most Technoblade felt weightless.

He slams against the door each time weaker than the last; trying to push it open. He begins to hyperventilate as he screams, he screams for Wilbur, then for Tommy, then for Phil. When Techno sees just how close Dream is he tries one last time and with whatever strength he can muster up he takes a step back and then charges for the door.

At that moment the door swings open and Technoblade flies out of the room slamming his whole body against the wall. There's a bust of light and suddenly the beast is gone, and they are left with a wreck of a Technoblade, a sobbing Wilbur, and one very pissed-off Tommy.

Wilbur holds his brother close and pulls him into his arms as they sit on the floor. Wilbur pets Technos now with short hair and whispers soothing words into the top of his head.

Wilbur knows there's nothing he can say to save his brother.

Chapter Text

Hey so Imma keep it 100

I had a lot of health issues and school stuff going on and its all solved now for the most part.

Given the news w Techno and considering this fic is more techno centric I will be taking a slight pause w it (as if i hadnt already)

I will def finish this fic as it is one of my first fully planned out fics and I dont plan on not writting techno, he was a great insperation for me and I intend on honoring his memory.

but in the meantime I def reccomend you check out my newest work Apricity! W slightly more time on my hands i can make better shit.

Ill be updating every Tuesday o7