Chapter Text
Wilbur’s nose fucking burned .
Schlatt had a damn good bit of strength, apparently. Wilbur’s nose was definitely broken. When he reached up to feel it, he could tell that it had shifted to a wildly different position than it should’ve been. Not the first time it had been broken out of place, but probably one of the worst times. Every time he tried to breathe through his nose, he ended up snorting a bit of blood, which, gross, plus it absolutely stung, but if he tried to breathe through his mouth, he just ended up with ichor dribbling into his mouth, even more gross .
He had resolved to snap it back into place as soon as he dug out the entrance to Pogtopia’s little hole, but that plan was thrown off the rails when he broke through and was immediately confronted by Techno. The elder god was sitting on their communal orange cot, one leg over the other, sword balanced on his foot as he sharpened it methodically. He didn’t even look up as Wilbur entered. He didn’t need to. Wilbur was already sweating.
Techno never spoke first. Wilbur didn’t want to speak first. He also knew Techno was likely to stop him from leaving if he did anything except talk.
“...What’re you doing up here?” He started rather awkwardly, having trouble physically resisting the urge to wince.
Techno raised a very unamused brow, finally glancing up to examine Wilbur. “What’s it look like I’m doing?”
“Sh… Sharpening your sword?”
A heavy sigh. Techno stopped and set the whetstone to the side. “Waiting on you, dumbass. Clearly a good idea, seeing as how you come back lookin’ like that.” He gestured vaguely to Wilbur’s entire body. The music god frowned.
“It’s not all mine,” He replied. A weak argument. They both knew it.
“Then who’d you fight? Better yet, where’d you go? You know wandering around anywhere near Manberg would just get us into more shit than we’re already in, so I know you didn’t go there.”
No answer.
“You didn’t.”
“I did.” Wilbur shuffled back and forth. “It was an invitation, though, so it’s fine!” He hurried to amend. Techno groaned and buried his face in his hands, rubbing his temple. “ Jesus , Wilbur.”
“What! Schlatt invited me to talk shit out!”
That got Techno’s attention. With an animalistic snort, he snapped his head up, rescanning Wilbur’s body, taking in the ichor splattered all over his front and collar as well as his twisted nose and frazzled hair. His hand drifted back to his sword. “And how did that meeting go?”
“Not… as bad as it could have. I kind of assassinated the president, but it turns out he’s also a god, so it’s all good. Tommy’s Visa’s gonna be extended so long as we pay Schlatt a few diamonds and grab him some quartz from the Nether. Schlatt’s not gonna rat me out as a god either. It’s all good. I got what I went there for.”
“...Hm.” A rather lackluster response for such an infodump, in Wilbur’s opinion, but he didn’t expect much out of Techno. “Let’s fix your nose. Bandages are in the chest outside of the farm. Not sure where Tommy is, so have an explanation ready if he pops up.”
“Got it,” Wilbur murmured, mind already whirring to come up with something with as little holes as he could. Techno stood up, brushed off his pants, and led the way down the spiraling stairs, Wilbur trailing dutifully behind him. If he accidentally left a little trail of gold on the wall where the end of his coat dragged, neither of them mentioned it.
True to Techno’s word, there was a faint tap-tap-tap from the lower ravine, where Tommy was presumably chipping away at the stone. Either that, or it was a spider who decided it liked the light from their home a little better than down in the depths. Wilbur’s story was only half-baked at that point, so he hoped Tommy would stay down there. (Who was he kidding, Tommy was going to come up there the moment he heard their voices.)
“Hey, Tommy!” Techno called out rather suddenly from the bottom of the stairs, making Wilbur jump and press against the wall, “C’mon up here and help me fix Wilbur’s nose!” The tapping stopped for only a second before Tommy exclaimed “ What? ” and scrambled up their makeshift ladder to get to the top. Wilbur shot Techno a positively murderous glare. The elder god’s usual wall of apathy was briefly broken by a smirk before it disappeared once again.
Techno seemed to be the cleanest person there, Wilbur thought belatedly once Tommy finally clawed his way onto the platform, despite the man’s mud-caked pants and hands and greasy hair. Tommy was covered in a layer of dust, dirt, and a little bit of redstone, eyes wild and bloodshot under his shaggy hair. A little part of Wilbur wanted to sit him down right then and there and chop it off so the poor boy could at least see.
“Will!” Tommy chirped, tossing his pickaxe to the side and shedding what looked like Techno’s coat ( Oh, so he would give it to Tommy , but not Wilbur. Figures. ). “Where’d you go, big man?
Me ‘n Techno’ve been holding down the fort all alone!”
“The Nether,” Wilbur replied, hoping he didn’t say it too fast. “I would’ve stayed out for longer, but I kind of…” He waved at his nose. Tommy gave him his usual crooked grin and strode over. God that kid was getting tall.
“Got your nose punched in, huh? What happened?”
“Piglins caught me mining some gold, tried to take it back and punched me right in the fucking face. First it was just the jaw, but when they saw the melted bits in my hands, they went to town. It bloody hurts .”
“Sure you deserved it.” Tommy gave him a rather rough clap on the shoulder, but his grin was easy, so Wilbur knew he wasn’t upset that he had left without warning. Not waiting for a response, he turned to Techno and asked, “Bandages in the chest, yeah?”
“Yup,” Techno replied, popping the p. He was eyeing Wilbur, but the god of music couldn’t tell why, so he just gave Techno a thumbs-up. That seemed to appease him, as he snorted and shook his head before following Tommy to the chests.
By the time Wilbur gave himself a shake and followed after them, Tommy had already gathered up all the available bandages in his arms and was arguing with Techno about who was going to do it.
“Tommy, do you even know how to fix a broken nose?”
“Well, not really, but-!”
“Then let me do it! I know how!”
“Exactly! If you let me do it, you can teach me how! And then I’ll know for the next time I break my own nose! Or someone else breaks theirs!”
“He has a point there, Techno,” Wilbur chimed in. Techno rounded on him, face scrunched up in mild annoyance, before swiping a roll of bandages out of Tommy’s arms (much to Tommy’s chagrin, who squawked in outrage), only to chunk them at Wilbur’s head, hitting him right above the ear. “Hey! Don’t assault the injured man!” Wilbur laughed, picking it up off the ground and tossing it back to Tommy, who maneuvered so it would land back in the messy pile.
“Tommy was right, you did deserve that piglin attack. Keep this shit up and another bipedal pig is gonna deck you.”
Tommy did his usual loud cackle, throwing back his head and almost stumbling over a rock formation in the process. Wilbur shook his head fondly, sitting down on the end of the stairs once Tommy got steady again.
Tommy crouched down in front of him, bandages on the ground next to his feet, a look of exaggerated determination on his face. “C’mon, Mr. Blade, get over here and show me what the fuck I gotta do so Wilbur doesn’t end up with a witch’s nose or something.”
With a heavy sigh, Techno joined Tommy’s side, though he chose to remain standing, one hand on Tommy’s shoulder while the other hooked his waist sash. “Alright, well, for starters, we gotta reset his nose.”
“Huh?”
“Shove it back into place. You wanna do it?”
“Techno, come on,” Wilbur whined, cutting in again, “You do it. Tommy might mess up and fuck it up even more, it’s his first time doing this. No offense, Tommy.”
“None taken, big man. I get what you mean, I wouldn’t want me to do it either,” Tommy replied with a wave.
“ Fine ,” Techno groaned. With practiced ease, he reached out, gripped Wilbur’s nose, and gave it a jerk to the right. It crunched rather loudly (right next to Tommy, unfortunately, causing the boy to flinch back, face scrunched in disgust), sending a fresh flow of gold down his face. Wilbur’s hand twitched at the pain, but it was soon back to the same throb as before.
“Well, that was horrible,” Tommy muttered, shaking his head a few times.
Techno huffed. “You weren’t even the one it happened to, shut up.”
“Make me,” Tommy retorted. Wilbur blinked a couple of times in surprise. Techno raised an unamused eyebrow. Tommy began to sweat.
“I mean… uh… Yes Mr. Blade!” Tommy did a sloppy salute, adding on his usual awkward giggle for good measure. Techno just rolled his eyes and kicked a bandage roll over to him.
“Alright, your turn, Sir Innit, knowledgeable on all that is wise, how do you think we’re gonna do this?”
Tommy faltered at that. “Uh… Hmm... “ He squinted down at the ground for a few moments before picking up the bandages. “Wrap his nose so it can heal in place without moving around?”
“Bingo,” Wilbur tried to say. It was kind of hard to tell through the blood flow. He tried to make sure Tommy understood through a thumbs-up and a smile. The smile was also kind of hard to understand.
Techno swatted him on the back of the head, which, ow , rude, before nodding at Tommy. “Yep. Sometimes we can splint it, but unless one of you wants to go out into the rain to get a wet stick or magically has one laying around somewhere down here, we’re just gonna have to wrap it for the night.”
“No sticks here, big man.”
“No sticks.”
“Alright then. Tommy, go to the chest real quick and get something soft, like some cloth or whatever.”
“Got some gauze already,” Tommy replied, picking it up with a disproportionate amount of pride for his apparent thoughtfulness, for once.
“Nice. Now, what you’re gonna wanna do is just get the gauze over the bridge of his nose, as tight as you can without hurting him, then we’re gonna have to put some bandages on first to just hold it down before wrapping it around his head once or twice to make sure it doesn’t, y’know, fall off as soon as we let go.” Wilbur was pretty sure that was the most he had ever heard Techno say to Tommy in one go. And all for him, aww, how sweet.
“Sounds easy enough!” A pause, and then, “What’s the catch?”
Techno snorted and moved his hand from his shoulder to his hair, rustling it a bit. Wilbur was seriously going to cut it as soon as they got done. “No catch. Should be easy for you. If you can break a ten-story fall with a single bucket of water, you can definitely fix a broken nose.”
“That was pretty cool when I did that, wasn’t it?” Tommy bragged. “Tubbo thought I wasn’t gonna be able to do it, he said I was going to, and I quote, ‘shatter my legs like glass’, but I said-” And then he was off on a tangent, rambling about the probably exaggerated story of how he caught himself with the water.
//
“Hey, Tommy,” Wilbur mumbled through a very-clogged voice, “Sit down and lemme cut your hair.”
“Absolutely
not
, what the fuck is wrong with you! My hair is fine as is!
”
"Come on, just sit down, Techno, gimme your knife-"
"No, get the fuck away from me and my hair!"