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Everyone keeps something about themselves hidden from the rest of the world. It could be a secret, a talent, a piece of artwork, an object, family history or simply a birthmark or scar. It could be something so horrible, it would leave irreparable damage on the person's image or something that they just prefer to keep to themself, something comforting or something that brings back a private memory they don't want to let go of. It could even be something they never knew was hidden, and stayed that way only because it never came up in conversations. There doesn't have to be a reason to keep something hidden, but everyone does it anyway. Nobody in the world is an open book, no matter how much they look like it.
Technoblade was a man with many of these secrets, but tonight, I'll tell you the story of how one was discovered.
As a child, Techno had always wanted to learn to play the violin. He'd gotten his hands on one too, but nobody was willing to teach him, so he taught himself. Every time motivation ran low, he'd just watch another show or piece and the tinder would light again. As he grew, people thought that his passion for the instrument had faded, and it had. But not as much as they thought. They didn't know that the first thing Techno bought with his own money a few years ago was a pretty, brown, classical violin. They had no idea that the seemingly emotionless, merciless, anarchist that was the Blood God had a secret love for music.
Techno was very well-aware of this fact, and he wanted it to stay that way. These people were by no means strangers, but he didn't tell them anyway. Not because he didn't want them to know, but because of a possibly irrational fear that they would chide him for it, spread the news that the eternally bored man loved playing the violin. That he didn't talk to people to de-stress, instead resorting to non-living objects.
Techno didn't care about the others' opinions on him, but even though he tried his best not to let it on, he cared a lot about his family and their opinions. He knew they were blunt people (of course they were, who did he grow up around?) and if they told him to stop, he knew he would, no matter how hard he tried.
So he never told them.
Techno gave violin playing a few hours every week, at odd hours of the night so nobody could interrupt him or find out. His parents hadn't stayed together long after his youngest brother, Tommy's birth. He thinks it's because his mother was always busy with work and while his father didn't mind taking care of the three boys alone, it did annoy him.
Recently though, they'd come to stay at their mom, Dr. Fridge's mansion for a bit after her repeatedly begging them for months on end.
Techno had decided to take advantage of the situation and increase the duration of his music sessions, moving to the music room on the top floor while expensive and posh parties kept everyone downstairs busy. Saying he liked his mother was an overstatement, considering he barely knew the woman, but he was having the time of his life in that house.
Sometimes he'd remember how much trouble it had been fetching the violin from under the floorboards back home and hiding it in his white suitcase without anyone suspecting a thing about how it was suddenly so stuffed. Techno had considered leaving it behind. After all, it was only a short visit with the sole purpose of shutting the woman up, but since nobody knew how long they were staying, he decided it was better to lug it with him.
In the music room, he kept the door unlocked for multiple reasons. The first being that in case someone decided to show up, a door locked from the inside would cause unnecessary panic and awkwardness. He also wanted to be able to hear any approaching footsteps. He had an embarrassing habit of getting lost in the music (he'd managed to turn noises into music over the years), so any distractions had to be as loud as possible to break the flow.
The night he was busted, it had been his own fault.
There had been another party, he doesn't remember what it was for (spoiler alert: he never ended up going), and while Technoblade's absence at any type of social gathering was nothing but expected, this one, in particular, was a little too important to be ignored and Tommy was not happy about it.
He started with waiting, even though he knew that Techno was never late. He was the type of person that either came early or didn't come at all. So, at about 1 AM, halfway through the celebrations, the boy grabbed Will, his jobless older brother, and in a rage, told him that they were going to look for Techno now. And that he'd better not let him slip like last time.
"Alright, alright." he'd said.
Tommy didn't doubt him. Will knew there was no point arguing and wanted to get back to his guitar as soon as possible, so Tommy told him to scour the outdoors area of the mansion and not for the first time, cursed the sheer size of the interior. He began to tick off the possibilities of which room his brother could be in.
Bedroom? Not a chance. Technoblade relaxed was a rare occurrence, let alone sleeping.
Being in the bedroom didn't necessarily mean sleeping though, did it?
So Tommy searched the entire indoor area of the mansion, every room, every hallway, every closet, every staircase until he reached the top floor, out of breath. He sighed, guessing that his brother was outside after all.
That floor had all the least probable rooms Techno could be in. Let's see- Art Studio, Music Room, Dance Studio, Gallery, Hall Of Fame and Will's room.
He huffed, remembering how fussy his older brother had been about having a room on the same floor as the music room (and they called him immature), and speaking about the music room, the 'Gremlin child' could hear something from the other side of the door. His emotions were split into three- Anger at Techno, annoyance at Will, and confusion at how he'd managed to slip past him and into the music room. Maybe it was one of the guests? What would they be doing though, all alone in the room? As his curiosity made him step closer to the room, the sounds abruptly stopped.
So the person didn't want to be discovered. Maybe it was Will after all.
Tommy grinned and ran to the door, curiosity, and childishness taking over any manners he had as he slammed the door open, only to be greeted by a dark room. If he squinted his eyes though, he could make out the silhouette of a tall male figure, clearly not Will, on a chair in the corner, holding what was either a guitar or violin in what had to be a white-knuckled grip, clearly not wanting to be found. Tommy would've apologized and left, but there was only so much maturity he could show. He was Tommy for god's sake.
He blindly fumbled around for a light switch, then realized where he was and clapped twice, flooding the room with lights. As his eyes adjusted for the next few seconds, the features of the other boy (man) came to light one by one. First the fair skin, then the long, pink hair, tied in braids, as usual, the proudly worn golden crown and crimson eyes.
There were two things very wrong with this moment. One was the fact that Technoblade's signature frown was missing, replaced by a tense and disheveled look (Tommy definetly didn't miss it, but it was weird seeing him like that), his hair and clothes were messy,especially by his extremely high standards and the look in his eyes could only be defined as pure, almost unfiltered, poorly hidden terror.
Definitely a new look.
The second was the fact that Tommy's eyes hadn't been playing tricks on him and that his brother's hands were occupied with an old, brown violin and a bow respectively. For a few seconds, both males froze, one cursing his lack of a backup plan and the other trying to regain his composure.
Tommy's brain was struggling to process the scene before him and the fact that Techno played the violin. While he was definitely introverted and withdrawn to his own world, he had also blown up countries, plotted with the world's greatest criminals, never shown interest in anything without logic after the age of 10, and Tommy, for once in his life, was in a loss for words.
He remembered someone, dad probably, telling him that Techno had been obsessed with the violin for a few months when he was 8 but stopped playing when nobody taught him. Tommy's jaw went slack and his brain felt like it had short-circuited.
He'd been playing for that long? And nobody knew?
He was bought back down to earth when he realized that Techno had gotten over his self-loathing and was casually trying to slip past him. Reflexes sharpened by years of training, one of his hands reached out, fast as lightning, and grabbed his older brother's sleeve, maybe too hard, because the pinkette fell flush against him. He hurriedly stood himself, all thoughts of the party miles from both their heads.
' Huh,' Tommy thought. His brother was lighter than he remembered.
Tommy forced a mischievous grin, hiding how shocked he was, and said-
"Where do you think you're going? I haven't heard you yet, big T."
Techno blinked a few times.
Did he think Tommy was just going to let him go?
"What are you even doing here? You that jobless?"
"If you thought about anything but anarchy, you'd know that we had a party tonight."
"We have a party every night, Toms."
"It's Dr.Fridge's birthday."
"And...? What's different about that?"
"I don't consider her my mother, Techno. But for however long we're here, we have to do something . Otherwise, she'll get right back to begging us to visit."
Techno almost bit back that at least he had uninterrupted music here, and he wasn't interrupted by Gremlins, but Tommy wasn't done.
"I won't tell you to go back to the party, but at least wish her a happy birthday, even if you don't mean it. Please?"
Techno opened his mouth to respond but Tommy was still not done.
"Oh, and by the way. If you don't, you're playing the violin for me."
Techno hushed Tommy with a finger to the lips.
"What makes you think I play the violin?"
"The fact that I just saw you playing the violin at 1 AM, looking like a deer caught in headlights when I found you?"
"That doesn't prove anything. I was just trying it out."
"Then let me listen to what you tried out. You're not leaving until I hear something."
"Tommy."
"Techno."
The brothers stared daggers at each other for a few seconds before Techno huffed, knowing an argument with Tommy was pointless. Feeling hopeless, he made his way back to the chair, though all he did was pick up a book from the ground next to it and let his eyes scan the pages, bored.
Tommy pouted, though he knew Techno couldn't see it, and right then, the rest of the family entered the room.
"I TOLD you they were in here, Phil!"
"What are you guys doing in here? The party's downstairs-"
"Waiting for the great king to play his music."
"What?" came a confused, synchronized response from Will and their father.
"I caught him playing the violin, the look on his face was priceless, I wish you guys could've seen it" Tommy was barely holding back laughter.
At this point, the man in question was paying minimal to no attention to the conversation, too invested in the pages of his book.
Wilbur and Phil slowly understood what was happening and had different reactions to the realization.
Wilbur grinned at Tommy, his eyes lighting up with an intensity that only occurred when he was playing his guitar or getting an extremely rare hug from his elder brother. The last time was when they'd decided to visit Dr.Fridge and Will didn't like the decision so Techno had to calm him down, tell him that they weren't going to die or something, and hug him tight, in a rare moment of intimacy for Techno. Will had trusted Techno and now these parties and celebrations were all he lived for.
Of course, he spent adequate time with his family. Every moment that wasn't in a party would be spent teaching Tommy how to dance or getting wrecked by Phil in video games or hunting for and annoying the hell out of Techno. It was just nice to know other people sometimes.
Techno, of course, disagreed with this. He was withdrawn to himself most of the time, and the number of times he'd said or done something that meant willingly interacting with people could be counted on Tommy's fingers. The fact that he was an extremely down-to-earth person and never joked didn't help. Naturally, nobody tried to talk to him, which made him an extra bit introverted. He also never showed any particular interests in anything except combat (to the eternal relief of Phil's criminal heart) and reading.
No singing, dancing, writing, instruments, drawing, painting. Nothing.
Phil never hated him, it was clear that Techno liked the way he was, but he worried about his son's well being. He was the eldest among his siblings, but still far too mature for his age. Will was the middle child but he still acted more immature than Tommy sometimes. And that's saying something. Tommy could be very immature.
Music was definitely not a sign of immaturity, but it was something that hadn't been thought about thoroughly. It offered creativity, bliss, something to keep his mind from rotting away all alone. Techno played the violin because it was fun , because he wanted to, and the thought alone bought a smile brighter than the sun to his father's face.
Phil was proud.
This combined with the puppy dog eyes his younger sons were giving him and his own curiosity was enough to convince the man to stubbly nod and sit down, to the absolute gaiety of his sons.
If Techno thought Phil was going to rescue him, he was wrong.
Techno seemed to have realized this as he looked up at Phil with eyes that reminded him of when he was a baby and he'd ask Phil why he and Dr.Fridge were being so loud.
It almost convinced him to leave the poor man alone.
Almost.
Will suddenly stood up and grabbed the back of Techno's chair, making him yelp and hurridly slam the book shut. His own eyes widened at the noise, but his family didn't pay it any heed, watching as Will dragged the chair to the center of the room.
----
So they sat in a semi-circle around Techno, who had decided to go back to reading (or at least acting like he was), probably in hopes that they'd take pity on him.
' Oh Techno, you're probably really tired. We'll listen some other day!'
'Get some sleep Technobro...'
He internally cringed at how unlike his family that sounded. Techno planned to wait for the others to fall asleep so he could slip away. Everyone else was on their phones, though Wil and Tommy were in a call (even though they were literally two feet apart), without earbuds, with the clear intention of annoying Techno into playing the violin and get it over with.
A win for them.
Techno was definitely not considering it.
He didn't bring his phone with him during violin sessions, probably the only time he was separated from it (you never know when you might need it), so he couldn't check the time but it had to have been a few hours, considering the noises of the party had died down and Phil had begun nodding off, clearly being kept awake only by his sons being annoying.
They had to be considering going to bed right?
Techno was starting to feel a little drowsy himself and he would do anything to not fall asleep right in front of his two very mature brothers, especially with no supervision. He exhaled sharply, slamming the book shut (he hadn't been reading anyway), immediately bringing himself to everyone else's attention, but he didn't pay attention, instead grabbing his violin to just get this over with.
After helping plan some of the greatest crimes of the decade as a teen, his brothers were what got him. His literal BROTHERS.
He frowned, to nobody's surprise, and began to tune the strings as he positioned the instrument correctly, deciding to play 'Canon in D Major', one of the ones he'd been most proud of finally getting right.
Trying his best to ignore the eyes he could feel staring at him, Techno started playing.
He started shabby, almost as bad as the first time he'd tried playing and it annoyed him to no end. Everyone knew Techno hated being bad at anything. That was the reason he didn't try new things most of the time. He couldn't handle failure.
"Stop staring at me" he mumbled, feeling the eyes immediately draw away, though he knew they were still listening. It was still nothing like his normal sessions, but he could relax a bit more now, his conscious was convinced that he was alone now, and that was enough. He started playing the right notes. Before he knew it, the eyes were back on him and he couldn't care. He was too deep into the music.
And so the family sat around a chair in a mansion they could never call home at 4 AM, listening to the Blood God play his instrument, all too shocked to do anything but stare, openmouthed.
Phil was far from sleep now. He was barely listening to the music, his eyes focused solely on his son's face.
His face.
When was the last time Techno had looked so peaceful? The usually permanent frown was long gone, and he was almost smiling. He looked more like a carefree child than Phil had ever seen him. If he'd only ever seen this Techno, he would've never guessed what his personality and lifestyle were like. Phil was flabbergasted.
Sure, he didn't expect Techno to pull out a gun and shoot the walls while playing but he didn't expect such a vulnerable side of his son either. Managing to tear his eyes away for a second, he looked at his other sons and concluded that they weren't expecting this either. In fact, they probably expected him to not be able to play at all. (A wrong assumption, as he later discovered)
He bought his eyes back to Techno. He couldn't see the Blood God anymore. All he saw was an 8-year-old, innocent boy who's only wish was to play an instrument nobody was willing to teach. It almost bought tears to his eyes.
When Techno finished playing and flushed, seemingly having forgotten about his family's presence, Phil grabbed his violin, gently keeping it on the floor before wrapping his hands around his son's shoulders, pulling him up. He caught a flash of nervousness in his eyes before squeezing him tight against his body, resting his head on Techno's pig-colored hair.
He could feel his son's surprise, all his muscles immediately stiffening against his dad. It had been at least 3 years since the last time they'd touched more than the brushing of hands. Techno only gave hugs when he determined somebody needed it desperately, and he was the only one who could help and if Phil ever did, he didn't show it. Nobody ever dared to hug Techno, not knowing what would happen if they did. In what way they'd be murdered. Phil was yet to realize how touch starved Techno was, but that's a story for another time.
Techno preemptively shuffled a little closer to Phil, and upon receiving no negative reaction, hesitantly wrapped his arms around his father just as tightly, resting his head against his chest. Then he did something uncharacteristic on a different level.
Technoblade, The Blood God, the old man at 20, the man with probably the highest body count in history for a 21-year-old, the man who's frown left his face for probably 1 minute every year, laughed.
All three heads in the room instantly snapped in his direction, convinced their ears were deceiving them. They expected Techno to understand what happened and say something about it. They expected him to pull away from Phil and leave the room but he did neither, instead keeping his head against his father's chest, a smile on his face.
"Thanks, Dad..." he mumbled, sounding very sleepy.
Phil didn't realize it then, but it was the first time in so long.
So painfully long that Techno had called him dad.
Wilbur and Tommy just stood there, too bewildered by the events of the past 10 minutes to say anything, as Techno completely melted into Phil's hold, leaning on him for support as his knees buckled under him.
They didn't mention to him the next morning that Phil had carried him to his room after he'd fallen asleep and in an uncharacteristic act, Tommy hadn't done anything to his face overnight. He said he didn't remember anything after Phil hugging him.
His family had walked into some of his sessions after that, and Techno had just shrugged, letting them listen on the condition that Will would stop playing his guitar at midnight for the next 3 days.
Needless to say, there were a lot of family sessions after that.
(And Techno was woken up by his brother's guitar at 2 AM, after which Will had shrugged, stating that the condition implied only for midnight.)