Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Avians hybrids were a rare breed, even before the trials. Only two hundred were recorded the year it all started. When the kings of the four nations called for the war, the heavens wept in pain. The fifth- and smallest- kingdom allowed them a safe haven inside. A few years after the decree, the fifth kingdom was forced to forfeit its power. The Avians were devastated. They weren’t safe anywhere. By the end of the trials, Avians were thought to be extinct. Many centuries after the extinction, they were forgotten and disregarded as fairy tales. There was no trace of the beautiful winged creatures that could live for millions of years. 

Phil jumped from his bed, shaking the nightmare from his head. He snatched his bow from the weapons wall and left his house, only one thought running through his head: food. The man went through his to-do list while he checked his rabbit traps, wings flexing from their coated confinement. One: Get wood, his fire pile was diminishing quicker than he expected. Two: Tend to cow farm, the calves were due any day and he needed to be there if they came early. Three: Build a portal… this was by far the hardest task for him. It required at least ten obsidian shards, an item he had exactly two of. He would need to mine and hope to find a lava pool. If he was lucky, maybe he’d find some diamonds as well. 

The hybrid began completing his tasks, starting with the cows since they were closest. He was disappointed to find the field full of mature females, not a calf in sight. Phil sighed and walked the twenty-step journey back to his cabin. Phil decided to grab his axe and pick to avoid coming back in. He groaned, flexing his wings. The pain in his shoulders making him contemplate using them again before his mind was invaded with images of the war. He fell to the ground, clutching his skull. The memories were too much… his brother, his sons, his family dying before him. He quickly began attempting to ground himself from the panic attack. 

He began counting the seconds that passed over his watch. 300 seconds. Five minutes of half breaths and pains in his chest. Phil took one last stabilizing breath before shakily standing. He made the five-step journey back to his house, placing the axe back in its spot. The wood could wait, but his portal needed to be done by morning. Phil reluctantly walked to his mine site, grateful for the proximity. The mine entrance was fairly small, but Phil knew that once he got to level 12, it was a giant room. The entrance was decorated with torches, a chest, and a dog he had built a house for. Phil checked the chest, finding twenty cobble bits, a single diamond, torches, and two extra obsidian bits. Well, now I have four. Six more, Phil thought, stashing the obsidian pieces next to the rest. 

“William, take your brother and run!” Wil looked at the bundle that was shoved into his arms along with a medallion with their kingdom’s crest on it. The purple and green snake glared at him from its confines as if he caused the attack on his caravan. The emerald eyes boring into his soul looked eerily like his father’s when Wil broke something. 

“Mum, he’s hurt!” The infant now in the 8-year-olds hands was crying and thrashing. 

“Wil, please. Run!” The small boy nodded to his mother and followed her directions, stopping only to grab his bag with the plant identification book in it. Wil took his little brother and ran as fast as he could. He was able to gain a fairly large head-start before he heard the inevitable yells of people following him, the infant in his arms still screaming. 

Wil adjusted the child so he could carry him better. He was able to create a backpack-like harness out of the boy’s blankets with ease, as he had seen his father do it so many times before. The baby quieted down once he had the minor pressure around his body. The moment his brother calmed, Wil began running again. He didn’t know which way he was going, and was sure he had gone in circles. He didn’t think about stopping until the voices faded, and the sun began to dip below the leaf-blocked horizon. He carefully put his brother in a pile of leaves, grabbing his book out to identify any edible plants that were around him. He was able to scrounge up a small dinner for his brother, deciding that he would eat tomorrow. The baby is more important. He slipped into a restless slumber that gave him nothing but nightmares and worry. 

The next day was no different. Seemingly endless running with no way to know where he was, only interrupted by his brief breaks for food scavenging and water. The child seemed to scream endlessly, he hardly slept during the day- though Wil was sure he was supposed to- and his cut was red and angry. Wil spent twenty minutes trying to clean and properly wrap the infant’s wound… but alas he was less than one year old, so he didn’t understand what Wil was doing. He kicked. A lot. And screamed non-stop. Wil made sure the child had a halfway decent wrap before he packed up and began running again. 

The first two days were the best… 

Phil didn’t know how long he was in the mines, but he came back at sunrise. Phil stretched his back, grateful for the clarity that the mines granted him- though he knew he got carried away. He returned with 14 obsidian shards, twelve extra diamonds, and several chests full of ores (iron, gold, coal, emerald… whatever you could think of, Phil was sure to have it). Phil decided to go about his morning routine, chugging a speed motion to counteract the lack of sleep. The subtle ache in his bones proved he had spent more than two days in the mines. The small popping noises that emitted with every raise of his arm reminded him of how sore he would be the moment his potions wore off. He cursed himself for not remembering to write down the recipe for healing when he accidentally made it the week prior. 

Phil sighed loudly, stretching once more before making the slow walk to his house. He quickly deposited his unnecessary belongings- the ores, stone, and his unused pickaxe- and grabbed twine to move hay easier. The walk to the cow field was uneventful, to say the least. Prime, he missed people… he knew he couldn’t leave his space. He was blissfully unaware of whether the war was still happening. He couldn’t do blood. He promised himself he would never go near people, he would never put others in danger again. The nightmares, the pain, the guilt… it was too much. Most people would have broken by then, but Death’s Angel was able to withstand the worst conditions. He hated them, but he would survive. He knew that there would be a day where she would call him home. He would see his family once more, and the four of them would be sent back to the Gaeason in a different form. He longed for that day. 

The winged man was lost in his thought… far too gone to notice the steady beat of hooves or the occasional crack of a whip. Phil didn’t hear the man address him, the call of ‘you there, farmer!’ that screamed at him. He only noticed when a man grabbed his shoulder. Instantly, his wings ducked further beneath his cloak. 

“I apologize, sir. I didn’t hear you approach,” Phil muttered. He would need to move again. No. There were other options, he could set traps, put up a fence, or simply ask the (obviously royal) man to leave him be. 

“No worries. Have you seen a caravan come through here? My wife and children were in it. They never came home,” the knights around the royal shifted uncomfortably. 

“No, sir. I fear I have no knowledge which kingdom you come from…” At this, the knights laughed. Phil’s instincts told him to run, his heart begged him to stay. His son is buried in the backyard. 

“Which kingdom? There are only two! It shouldn’t be too hard to distinguish them.” The royal laughed.

“My apologies, word doesn’t travel here often. I prefer to sustain myself, keeping away from most people. It is the easiest way for me to stave off conflict.” 

“Your Majesty,” So he is a king then… Phil thought, “We should keep moving. We can cover more ground that way.” 

“Fair enough. Sir,” the king turned to Phil. “If you see my boys or my wife, please send them my way.”

Phil muttered an agreement to the king and continued to tend to his animals. His cows had given birth, three new males and two females. He had another four months before he would need to ‘thin’ the herd. It always upset him, but he needed to do it to survive. 

One of the knights approached him a final time, “How are you to send them that way if you aren’t aware of which kingdom he came from?”

“I know which way you are headed, and thus know which way you came. I’ll send them the way you came.” 

The knight nodded his approval and left, the bright red cape flaring behind. The Pegasus rearing for battle.  

Chapter Text

Before humans invaded, the three realms lived in peace. The Below with its large swaths of lava was known for its gorgeous glowing stones (that the locals so cleverly name Glowstone). The Below was filled with gorgeous ores, intelligent hog-hybrids, and (not so smart) Piglings- a creature like the hog-hybrids that ignored you as if you didn’t exist until you attacked one of them. They were fierce creatures that could destroy armies in seconds but often died of starvation after forgetting to eat. The second realm- Gaeason- was filled with gorgeous forests that spanned for miles, and was known for its plethora of creatures. From the adorable sea-squids to its tiny rabbits, its large polar bears to its fluttering fish. Most of Gaeason was peaceful. Occasionally a wolf would hunt down a rabbit or a fox. The third and final realm never had a name. Since it was home to the original Gods, they decided it wouldn’t need one. The Gods created Avians and their offspring to bring them joy and peace along with comfort. There were several millennia of peace before the Avians rebelled. They created their own creatures: Humans. The King of Gods decided the Avians would lose their immortality. That was the first time the Heavens cried out in pain. 

The holiest of Avians would become the bringer of death to her kind. She was awarded the title of Death. She begged the Gods to allow her husband to stay beside her, for he despised the human creatures and attempted to stop their creation. The King of Gods was unwavering on his decision, however, his wife had a better solution. She knew the pain of losing the one that you love. She made a deal with Death; her husband would have an infinite number of lives. He would need to live on the ground for all of them, but he would be Aviary. Each time he died, he would be able to spend a century with her before he was called back to Gaeason to start over. The same thing would happen to his sons. Every three thousand years after their death, they would come to him for safe haven. He would get the chance to see them twice in one lifetime if he was lucky. He would know they were his to protect, he would feel he needed them close. Every three lives, Death would be able to spend a life with him- though she and her children would leave before him. 

This began the cycle of their retribution. This began the cycle that led to the Avian’s extinction. 

Phil assumed it had only been a decade since the war… the last time he had spoken to people, it had been two years. It felt like a decade, yet the way the knights spoke proved it had been longer. It felt like a decade, yet the king said there were only two kingdoms- last he heard there had been four. It felt like a decade, yet the parade of parasitic men laughed at his way of speaking. As if he was the savage running into their homes and demanding to know where this strange caravan they had never heard of was. As if he was the one who murdered their entire species, much more their family. 

Phil growled lowly as he placed the final obsidian bit, securing his way to the second realm. The portal gave off a steady heat, like a furnace. Phil wondered if he should move it closer to his animals… they were always cold. The man cleared his head, stretched his shoulders, and moved back to his cabin. He could wait a few hours before he entered the second realm. The same ores would be there if he attempted a healing potion and took a nap… 

The man placed his extra ores in their proper spot and began smelting those that needed to be. He smiled at the cat that perched itself neatly on his End Chest- the contents of the chest being gifts from his wife… Every time his cat died, he would find another one that looked exactly like him. To remind him of the cat that his youngest son insisted he adopted. It was black with white paws, green eyes, and a single grey-white patch on the top of its head. He knew it was stupid to spend months looking for a specific cat, but it reminded him of his family.

He couldn’t picture their faces anymore. 

Phil quickly busied himself, grabbing the ingredients he thought were correct for a healing potion. Prime was he wrong. The first attempt exploded in his face. He cursed himself for not grabbing more blaze powder when he made his first portal and cursed the humans for destroying his first cabin. His second attempt only brewed Speed III, which he stored away with all the other speed potions. The third attempt was semi-successful. The potion wasn’t as strong as he hoped it would be, but it served its purpose. He quickly wrote down his ingredients, labeling it Healing Effect I in his Potions Book.  

The potion tasted like ashes, as he expected. He grimaced and made his way to his bed. Phil hung his jacket over the edge of his bed and pushed himself under his blankets. The gentle roll of his pain fading caressed him into sleep. 

William regretted setting the infant in a pile of leaves the day they were attacked. He didn’t look at what plant it was. Wil’s back was covered in small red welts that were the tell-tale sign of poison ivy. It itched more than he thought possible. He thanked whatever Gods were listening that none of the plants had touched his brother and for his thought to clean the blanket so he could use it as a barrier between him and the small boy. 

The boys had traveled deep enough into the forest that deer were no longer afraid of them as they passed. Wil stopped a few times to allow the infant to touch them. The deer were hesitant but allowed the small pets. 

The three-month-old rarely stopped screaming. Wil was sure his cut was infected, the boy was far warmer than he should have been, and the cut itself was swollen and pink. The baby had only eaten wild berries for three days, Wil hadn’t eaten since the attack. His brother was more important. There was no reason for him to stop and get food if he could hear something- someone in the forest behind him. He had to get his brother to safety. 

Wil grimaced after hearing something behind him as if they were trying to prove his point. He began running again, ignoring his brother’s whines of protest. He knew it wasn’t fair to him, but they had to keep moving. They ran until the trees began thinning again. Wil thought they may have come across the edge of a town since a few houses were lining the trees and obvious rabbit traps had been scattered for the last twenty minutes of walking. 

The small village the boys found themselves in was disappointing. It was quiet and empty- not a person in sight. Some houses looked like they had been set on fire, others looked like they had been ransacked. Wil made his way into one of the houses, setting his brother down so he could bombard the door. The satisfying crack from the latch breaking made Wil realize there may be people still in the village, they may just be in their houses. He pushed that thought aside when the house proved to be empty. 

Wil picked his brother up once more before moving inside. The interior was a disaster, to say the least. The furniture looked as though someone had purposely destroyed it, there were broken picture frames scattered on the ground, and several broken instruments were laying in random places. Wil winced as he stepped on a photo. He carefully took a step back and picked it up. The photo held a family of four, two young boys and (Wilbur assumed) their parents. The mother seemed to be pregnant, and the oldest boy couldn’t have been older than two. He continued studying the stranger’s faces, noticing the smile the father wore and the green striped bucket hat one of the boys was placing on his head as well as the guitar one of the boys had over his shoulder. 

He carefully set the photo down and adjusted his brother in his grip. The child made small babbling noises and William smiled down at him. There was a moment of the baby being the only noise in the small house before Wil’s stomach growled impatiently, reminding him that he needed to eat still… it was almost sunset, making it four days since he had eaten anything. Wil frowned, realizing that his brother hadn’t eaten yet either. 

William continued walking through the house: if they had a baby at any point in time, they should have a crib of some sort. What Wil found was less than ideal, but it would serve its purpose. He carefully covered the splintered wood with the clothing he found thrown on the floor, creating a small amount of cushion before he gently set the baby in it. Wil smiled at his younger brother. Sitting with him momentarily before moving to try finding food. He had seen an apple tree and wheat outside, but it was too far for him to reach and he didn’t know how to make anything with fresh wheat. He quietly cursed himself for not taking the class his mother had offered him.

William rolled his sleeves up, smiling at the lack of purple and green splatters… at least there was one upside to being away from his family… he knew there were still more under his shirt. Wil shook his head and searched the room his brother was in, finding clothes he could change the boy into, he would just need to wash his hands first. No problem, right? Wrong. There was no sink. William knew how to make soap from some of the nearby plants, but he needed water. His throat was impossibly dry, reminding him that he hadn’t had anything to drink since he left his camp that morning. 

He needed to find water. He needed to find food. He needed to sleep…

‘Gods, my chest burns… where am I?’ I think. I decide to move forward, where else am I to move? My feet feel heavier with every step and my eyes feel like Phantom venom has been spit in them. Everything is dark. I move to the bedroom that my sons sleep in. It is empty, should my wife be here? Pain shoots through my shoulder at the thought. ‘I am the General, I need to go help my people.’ 

Why would I need to help my people? There isn’t anything happening… is there? I spread my wings and try to fly, but it feels as though iron chains have been thrown on them. What is going on? Why can I not move my wings? 

Where is Kristen? Where are my sons?

I run faster than I believe I could, desperate to find my wife. The front door opens with what sounds like a large river… the closest thing we have to a river is the water pumps. There are screams of children and adults alike. The sounds of war echo through the town. It feels as though people are grabbing me, pulling me back. I slow my steps as I see another man. The third king's assassin is made obvious by his mask. He tilts his head as I stop. I take another step. There is a loud crunch from under me. I slowly lift my foot and lower my gaze. 

The ground is covered in blood. 

My lungs don’t want to take in any air, the assassin laughs. 

I stepped on a child’s skull.

Phil jerks awake, the scream that had been building in his nightmare dying in his throat. Prime, he wished his nightmares weren’t real memories. He wished he could go out of his cabin and see his family. He wished he could see his brother, his sons, his wife, his friends. The thought is quickly choked out. He promised he would stop mourning. 

He shook his thoughts, needing to physically shake his head to get them to stop rushing. His bed was far colder than it should have been. He dismissed this as being close to winter, though his plants were still in full bloom (the narrator doubts Phil’s ability to tell the seasons since he mistook more than two centuries for a decade). His house creaked, bringing the reminder of the portal he had created. He quickly grabbed a bag and stuffed it with supplies. 

Phil remembered the Below vividly. The last time he had been, the locals were far from friendly unless you had a piece of gold or gold armour. He quite enjoyed the crimson trees that grew in some part of the terrain and knew he could easily get stronger tools by mining one of the root elements of the Below. His body moved faster than his mind. He was now standing at the edge of the portal, inscribing the edge of the obsidian with the runes his wife taught him. 

He really couldn’t do anything without being reminded of her. 

He stepped through the bright purple portal, the sickening swirl nauseating him. The familiar whirr died down, allowing Phil to steady himself. Since it had been centuries, his typical tolerance was destroyed. It took him several minutes to regain his bravado. Once he felt steady, he marked down his coordinates and began walking through the gorgeous terrain. 

It was nothing like he remembered. There were deteriorating corpses everywhere, ores splaying across the ground, and lava pouring over most surfaces. The few locals he encountered immediately pointed their weapons at him. When he attempted to offer them armour, they declined. Instead, they asked for gold ingots. Luckily he had brought some with him.

One of the corpses stood, something he had seen happen several times, and began walking north. Phil followed behind it, thinking it might lead him to the city. It didn’t. It jumped into the lava. The hybrid grumbled under his breath and continued walking. There were a few moments before he heard a squeal of pain. He ran over toward the noise, only to see humans… in the Below. 

“Goddamn Nether!” One of them yelled. Phil began panicking. They weren’t supposed to be able to go to the Below, they didn’t know the runes! The human that yelled kicked at a small figure, resulting in another- far too human- squeal. Phil watched in horror as the man pulled out a sword. 

Phil ran from the humans, quickly digging down and covering his entrance (after marking it down for himself). He took a moment to breathe, placed his bag down, and continued mining. He had originally gone down to mine for netherite. 

William carried his brother out to a nearby water pump he found after his minor breakdown in the kitchen. He grabbed a few soapwort bundles and began crushing them, rubbing the oil onto the younger’s blanket- effectively washing the excess dirt and poison ivy oils off. The younger babbled at him, smiling. 

“Really, little one?” Wil smiled. The younger squealed loudly. Wil laughed lightly and began washing the boy. Once he was sure he cleaned the boy of any possible oils, he began cleaning himself. The younger laughed at seemingly nothing and continued babbling. Wil carefully dressed himself, making sure to cover the gross rash with torn shirts he found in the house. 

William carried his brother into the center of the town, where he found Red Dead Nettle scattering the edges of the very faint path. Wil knew Red Dead Nettle was a great poultice, so he began making the paste. He grimaced at the taste of the plant but continued crushing the leaves. By the time he reached the village center- still empty- he was able to smear the poultice on his rash. The relief was nearly instantaneous. 

The village center was fairly small, with only a few houses and farms surrounding it. The remnants of trading stands covered in vines were a perfect way for Wil to see more of the village. 

Wil set his brother down, “stay here, bubs.” He carefully climbed the nearest stand, shushing the boy when he made a loud noise of complaint. At the top, he could see an old, run-down bakery, a few crop farms, an old cow corral (broken, he noted), and- “Chickens!” Wil jumped down from the perch, grabbing his brother and running. He could do this. He could make bread from the wheat, eggs, and (hopefully) cow’s milk. His mother made sure he could. 

Wil silently thanked her foresight as he made it to the chicken coop. A few hens were brooding in their nests, clearly abandoned as vines slowly made their way inside. Wil forced the door open and slipped his hand under one of the hens- which attacked him. He was able to grab two eggs from her before the rest of the hens got angry. William momentarily wondered where the rooster was, or if there even was one. Do you need a rooster for them to lay eggs?  

Wil carefully grabbed his brother from the bottom of the chicken coop, making sure he didn’t try to pull the hen’s feathers out. There was a moment of silence before the boy decided to scream. The hens screamed back at him and ran, making him giggle. Wil shook his head. 

“Eventually we’ll teach you how to properly care for animals, little one.”

William carried his brother over to the cow corral. Unfortunately, fate despised the boys. There were no cows or bulls in the area, the animals had been gone for nearly two centuries (though Wil didn’t know that). Wil cursed under his breath before deciding he could use water instead of milk… way less of it, but it should still make bread. 

Making their way to the bakery, the younger started babbling nonsense and pointing. Wil followed his gaze over to the side, seeing a child’s skull. Wil gasped and ran. They made it inside the bakery, Wil setting the younger on the ground again while he went through the different cupboards. Once he found what he was looking for, he began making bread. 

It would be the first thing he had eaten in nearly four days.

Regret filled his body as he realized he would need to leave in the morning. 

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Death adored her husband. She absolutely despised the day she had to take their children from him, she sobbed. She tried to visit her husband in his dreams, begging the Gods for a chance to apologize. They never accepted her pleas. They turned her honey-filled dreams into nightmares of bloodshed. The Gods made her husband dream of the terrible things that had happened to him rather than the sweet ones she attempted to bless him with. She grimaced as she watched sleeping become a chore for him. 

When he decided to go to the Below, her heart soared. Their boys desperately needed them, and he was one step closer to them. She kept a mindful eye on her family, watching for any sign of danger and edging them closer together. She bargained with the goddess of wildlife, gaining the ability to visit her sons in the form of a deer. 

When her son found their old house, she smiled. He found the picture of the four of them. She grimaced at the realization that her husband wouldn’t recognize the boys. They always looked similar, but he didn’t have any pictures in his cabin to remember them by.

“What are you doing?” Phil repeated, attempting to look intimidating. He just looked… concerned. This literal child just walked into his house with a sobbing, injured infant in his arms. “Do you speak English?”

“Y-yes, sorry sir,” the boy muttered. Phil took a moment to look him over, feeling a strange surge of protectiveness overcome him. He frowned at the realization that these two had been on their own for more than a day. He wasn’t quite sure how long. The older of the two had deep purple bags under his eyes that proved he got little sleep. 

“Well, don’t apologize. Please answer my question,” Phil softened his voice. 

“I-I’m sorry, sir. M-my carriage was attacked, momma got taken. My brother is hurt, I just want him to be better.” Phil’s heart tore at the words. This boy was so young… he reminded Phil of-  Not the time to think of them. They were gone. He needed to focus on the two (three, he reminded himself) injured children in his house. 

Phil gestured for the boy to follow him, heading toward his potions and medicine cabinet.  “What’s your name?” Phil asked, glancing at the boy while grabbing bandages. 

“William, sir. Momma calls me Wil.” 

Phil smiled at William, noting how small and scared he sounded. “William, what’s his name?” The boy frowned, glancing down at his brother. “Does he have one yet?” 

Wil shook his head, “Momma wanted to name him Thomas but dad said Michael.” Phil tilted his head, noting the endearing term for his mother and the cold term for his father. His smile dropped at the second name… his brother...

“Do you mind if we call him Tommy?” William shook his head again, “Alright. Come here, Wil. I’ll help the best I can.” Wil gently handed Phil the bundled child. Phil instantly noticed the intense stare the boy gave him. “I promise I won’t hurt him.” 

The baby was way too warm. Phil gingerly unwrapped him, instantly seeing the ripped shirt tied to his leg. The Avian glanced at William, noting his torn shirt. He also noticed the boy attempting to itch his back in a way that seemed uncomfortable. Phil decided to focus on Tommy first. Phil pulled the makeshift bandage away and began inspecting the wound. It was clear the cut was infected, so Phil did his best to clean the wound. 

“Can you hold him a moment? I need to brew something to help,” Phil handed Tommy to Wil and stepped away. “I’ll be right back.” Phil moved over to his brewing stand and made the healing potion. He turned back just as the Piglin boy appeared at the door, hands over his ears. Phil smiled at him and took the baby back from Wil. “Hey, mate. You don’t need to be scared.” 

Wil turned toward where Phil was talking and smiled at the boy. He recognized the boy to be a Piglin- his mother taught him about them when he accidentally drew one. Phil felt pure happiness as the two boys made eye contact. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt these boys belonged together… as a family. It made no sense yet felt inexplicably right. Phil carefully soaked a bandage in a healing potion and wrapped Tommy’s leg in it, the kid finally quieting down. Phil smiled down at him. 

“Are you boys hungry?” Phil asked. Wil looked conflicted. “I can make pretty much anything… it is almost lunchtime.” Wil seemed to be staring just past Phil, the older following his gaze. “I can get him some food too if you would like?” William nodded at the Avian, still not looking away from his brother. Phil picked up the baby and handed him to Wil. 

The moment Tommy was in Wil’s arms, he started babbling softly. Wil smiled for the first time since entering the house, Phil’s heart swelling at the sight. Phil watched as the Piglin boy slowly joined the other boys, ears flicking in distrust. Wil jumped at the boy appearing at his side, the boy staring at him intently. 

“He does not trust you yet, so he will be very jumpy.” Tommy babbled a bit louder at the boy. Wil glanced up at the man, taking in his physical features. Wil quickly realized he was staring and looked away. 

“You talk kinda funny,” Wil muttered. Quickly apologizing afterward. Phil didn’t miss the way the boy flinched when Phil looked at him. Phil’s heart sank again as he realized the boy was afraid of him. 

“Really?” Phil turned to Wil and smiled, “maybe you could teach me how to talk normally?” Phil offered. “But first: eat.” 

William carefully passed his brother to the man. He ate silently, slowly. As if he knew eating too fast after going more than a day without eating would make it resurface. Phil cringed as he thought about what that might mean… he didn’t want to make any assumptions about the boy. The Avian carefully set the baby down, finally grabbing the golden apple for the Piglin. He turned back to William and watched him eat.  

“Are you hurt at all?” Phil asked once William was done eating. Wil froze, thinking for a moment before shaking his head. Dread filled Phil’s body at the hesitance, “Are you sure?” William took a shaky breath before looking at Phil. Tears began gathering in the younger’s eyes. “That is alright, you don’t have to tell me. Just… drink this.” Phil smiled as the boy took the potion. 

The boy sighed in relief, gently touching his sides and muttering thanks. “What’s his name, sir?” William asked, pointing at the Piglin. 

The Avian sighed, “he may not have one yet. Please, call me Phil.” 

Once the boys had gotten used to each other, they began trying to communicate. It started with Wil asking what the Piglin’s name was. The Piglin responded by pointing at Phil and saying his name. Wil nodded, pointing at Phil and saying his name. Wil then pointed at himself and said ‘Wil’. The Piglin tilted his head, pointing at Wil and repeating. William smiled, then pointed at the Piglin, tilting his head. The Piglin stared at him for a moment. 

“Runt,” the Piglin responded. 

William turned to look at the Avian, “his name’s ‘Runt’?”

Phil shook his head, “I think that is his social status. I do not know if they give them names anymore.” 

Wil looked at the boy sadly, pointing at himself again. “Human, Wil.” He pointed at the Piglin again. 

“Hybrid, Runt.” Wil frowned. 

“Do you think he knows English?” William heard Phil sigh, immediately panicking. Did he overstep? Was he not supposed to ask about it? Was Phil mad at him? 

“I do not know. I know the Piglins have the ability to speak English, I used to teach them the dialect.” Phil paused, noticing the Piglin gently touching Wil’s shoulder. The human was shaking slightly, “Wil? Are you alright?” William did his best to nod. “Wil, you do not have to lie to me. I will not get angry if you are not.” 

Wil glanced up at the man, seeing no signs of anger. Phil’s eyes were full of concern, “‘m ok. Scared m’self,” The boy’s words slurred slightly. “Can we give ‘im a name? I don’t wanna call him runt. Feels wrong.” 

Phil took a deep breath and smiled, “Yeah, mate. What do you think we should name him?” 

Wil looked around the room a moment. His eyes landed on his bag. He had deposited it by the chair Tommy was sleeping on. He moved over to it, grabbing the book of fairy tales and moving back to the Piglin. The Piglin jumped slightly when Wil put the book down. William flipped to the third story. Wil noticed Phil leaning over his shoulder slightly. 

“My mum used to read me this story every night before bed. It’s about a warrior boy who runs away from home to protect a different kingdom. She told me the boy’s name was ‘David’, but when I got old enough to read I knew it wasn’t.” Wil flipped to the fifth page, “I want him to choose his own name.” 

Wil pushed the book in front of the Piglin, encouraging him to choose a name. “He may not know how to read, mate.” Wil frowned slightly. “Maybe read the names to him?” 

Wil smiled, moving over next to the boy. He began pointing at the names, saying them, then pointing to the boy. After each one, the Piglin shook his head and repeated ‘Runt’. Wil sagged slightly before getting an idea. He pointed at the name, saying it aloud. Then at the boy and saying ‘hybrid, runt’ then the name. The boy tilted his head. 

“Technoblade?” Phil repeated. The Piglin turned to look at the Avian. “We could call him that.” 

The Piglin pointed at himself, “Technoblade?” Phil and William both praised him for the seemingly minor accomplishment. They watched as the Piglin’s eyes lit up. “Name Technoblade.”

Phil had to stop himself from cursing out of surprise, Wil smiling brightly. “Yeah, your name is Technoblade now!” 

“Your name Wil?” Techno asked, an accent heavily lacing his voice. 

“Yes!” Wil smiled. William pointed at Phil, “Him?” 

“Him name Phil?” William smiled again, nodding. The Piglin looked away for a moment, then looked back at Phil. He knew he wasn’t supposed to say anything other than his two words, but these people were having him say more. “Family?” 

Phil looked taken aback. Technoblade reminded him of his oldest son, and Wil reminded him of his middle son… How long had he gone without them? Was it time for them to be together again? The three went silent… William and Techno looking expectantly at Phil. 

“I do not know how to answer that, mate.” William looked at Phil confused, “He hid in my bag last night, I do not have enough energy to go back through for another few days.” 

“Phil my family?” Technoblade asked again. Wil looked at the ground for a moment, hearing Phil let out a sigh. 

“If you want, mate. I can be your family,” Phil looked up at Technoblade just in time to see him smile. “Oh my Gods, that’s adorable.” William nodded his agreement.

Chapter Text

Death had always been watching her children. She never left them alone. The nights that Techno (as her husband had begun calling him) found food randomly left, that was her influence. She would bargain with other Piglins, out of his sight per her agreement with the Gods. The nights William would feel warm- not hot, not cold, but warm- that was her forcing air around with her wings. 

Of course, it was tiring. She couldn’t always step in. The nights when Techno was bullied, she was right by his side. The nights that William was locked in the small room, she was there. They couldn’t feel her, but she was there. She was furious whenever her son lifted his shirt (if you could call it that). The purple and green that bore into his skin was a constant reminder that she was practically useless. The nearly black marks and scars grinned at her failure. 

Death was more than happy when the carriage was attacked. It was horrible, but she was grateful for her son’s opportunity to escape. She was elated when Phil found Techno. She knew he would have a few days of excruciating pain, but it was worth it in her eyes. 

Phil had reasoned that he would be able to heal and protect Tommy better if they were to stay with him, so Wil and Tommy stayed with him. Wil spent more than half of his time sitting next to Tommy, making sure he was well-fed, healing, and comfortable. The rest of his time was spent teaching Technoblade. He rarely took care of himself, only eating when Techno told him to. Only sleeping in fits. Phil was beyond worried. His worry only worsened when William changed in front of him the first time. 

Techno jumped at the opportunity to learn. If he learned enough, he could earn Warrior, maybe even Godsend! His English was becoming more fluent every day. He could now tell Phil if he was hungry, tired, wanted to write, wanted to stay by Phil, wanted to read, wanted to help, etc.. Most of his time was spent reading. He told Phil the ability to read was the greatest gift he had ever received. William and Phil cried. 

Phil made sure the three children living in his house were safe and healthy. He spent extra time setting traps and barriers around the house. He took an hour a day to bring the boys outside with him, usually, he would tend to the cows with the help of Techno while Wil would let Tommy pet them. He subtly started putting healing and strength potions into Wil’s drink after he saw the scars, having done the same to Techno since he arrived. Phil nearly cried when he noticed Tommy’s infected gash cleared completely, not even leaving a scar. 

William found himself calling Phil and Techno his second family often, yet he still found himself wondering when Phil would snap… when the man would find Wil far too annoying, or when Phil would decide he didn’t want to spend the resources on Tommy. Wil secretly began stashing things in his bag to make a quick getaway if needed. Of course, he didn’t tell Phil or Techno… he didn’t want them to feel guilty. 

Phil had noticed, he just didn’t want to say anything. He wasn’t blind to the distrustful stares, the fearful glances, and the cautionary way the child held himself. He- obviously- noticed the year’s worth of scars and extreme manners. He still didn’t want to make assumptions, so he acted like he didn’t see. He slipped healing, strength, speed, and any other potion he thought would help the boy into his drinks (he wondered if William noticed [he did]). 

Everything seemed to be moving smoothly… until it all fell apart. Wil had set Tommy in the grass beside the cow pen, his eyes never leaving the baby, with a book in his lap. He was reading Phil’s book about Avians, he knew they existed but he didn’t know they were still around. His father said they were myths… his ribs faintly ached from the day he argued about it. 

It was a very sunny day, moderately warm, and a slight breeze. Phil had been watching him while tending to the vegetable garden with Techno (Phil insisted the boy eat more than just golden apples and potatoes, so they began growing cucumbers, peppers, and lettuce together). The sun seemed to crash into the Avian’s body harsher than the others. His wings cramped painfully in their confines, so -without thinking- he took off his shirt and spread his wings behind him. He didn’t realize that Wil didn’t know about his wings until he heard a small gasp. Phil turned, seeing Wil run inside quickly with Tommy sitting on his hip. Phil instantly regretted the small action, moving to follow him in. 

Techno smiled at Phil, gently tugging on his pant leg. Phil turned to the boy, “what’s up, mate?” 

“Your wings!” Phil tilted his head at the boy, prompting him to continue. “They were hurt. Now they aren’t!” Techno smiled.
Phil bent his wing to the front of his body. Just as the hybrid had said, his previously rotting wings were gaining the colour they used to have. Phil glanced down, noticing the lack of shed feathers. 

“You use them?” Techno asked, tilting his head slightly while following Phil inside. 

“No, mate. I can’t use them. My wings are still hurt, and my head is too. I can’t fly until both are better,” Phil explained the best he could. The father figure knocked on the guest room door, where the three boys had been staying. “Wil? Are you alright?” 

Techno looked at the door confused, Phil had told him he could open the door whenever… Why was he knocking? Techno decided to ask his question aloud. 

“Because this is your room, not mine. I don’t want to push any boundaries or make you guys uncomfortable,” Phil smiled softly. The boy opened the door and walked in, Phil taking a seat in the doorway. Wil was sitting on his bed, a different book in hand. This was one Phil hadn’t seen before. 

William noticed the man (was he a man?) staring at him. “It’s my journal,” he muttered, grabbing his pencil from beside him. Wil looked up to see Techno smiling at him. “Hey, Tech.” 

“Hi, Wil.” William smiled- two weeks ago all the boy could say was ‘Runt, Hybrid’. Now he was fully communicating. “What’s journal?” 

Phil watched the boy explain what a journal was and allow Techno to write in it. His smile grew as he still sat in the doorway. “Please stop staring at me,” Wil whispered. 

Phil’s smile dropped as he looked away, “sorry.” He didn’t miss the way the boy gave him wary glances and fidgeted relentlessly. “Is there anything I can get you? I know Techno will want a hot tea and a potato,” Phil smiled as the boy shook his head happily. 

“Just water, please.” 

Phil grimaced slightly as the boy still whispered. There was fear etched into his face as if he would get hurt for speaking up. He quickly made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a potato for Techno and preparing tea. Once the tea had finished boiling, he grabbed a glass of water and moved up the stairs. He reached the top of the stairs in record time, hearing Wil speak to Techno in quick, hushed tones.

“-I don’t know that, though! This is exactly how my fath-” the boy paused a moment, “my family acted. I can’t… I can’t go through that again.” 

“He’s safe,” Techno whispered. “Bird people-” 

“Avians,” Wil corrected. 

“Atheists are good. They don’t like hurting,” Techno muttered. Phil wondered if he should be listening in on this. “They used to be Angels, the ones that are still alive are super nice.”

“But how do you know? How can you trust them? How can you trust him ? He’s been on the Earth for centuries, how do you know he hasn’t been corrupted?” Wil stuttered. Phil realized the boy was crying. 

“What’s Earth?” Techno whispered. Phil’s shoulders relaxed as he heard Wil chuckle. He decided to act like he hadn’t heard any of what had happened and walked into their line of sight.

“Mind if I come in?” Phil asked, waiting for an answer from both boys before entering. He slipped Techno the tea and potato first, then moved to Wil. “You alright, William?” Wil glanced down at his hands, then at Tom before nodding his response. “Alright. If you ever need to talk, I’m always open, mate.” 

“Please don’t,” Wil barely whispered. “Don’t act like you care if you don’t.” The boy was so close to crying. How many times had his father done this exact thing? How many times had he walked into Wil’s room uninvited and feigned caring for Wil? How many times did he go through Wil’s room looking for anything to punish the boy for? Wil swore he wouldn’t let that happen again. Even though Phil had already done things his father had never done for him, he was always ready for the moment where he would need to run. Phil was making that harder every day. 

“I would never do that. What can I do to make you believe me?” Phil softly asked, moving to rub Wil’s back. Wil flinched harshly at the contact. 

“Please don’t, I don’t want this to hurt more than it already does.” Wil pulled his knees up to his chest, taking the deepest breaths he could. Techno was sitting on the floor, tea finished already, staring at Wil confused. “It’s already torture to know I might have to leave him-”

“Don’t leave…” Techno whispered, making Wil’s heart shatter. William took another deep breath, steadying himself before standing and noting that Phil had moved back to the doorway. Techno glanced over at the Avian and whined. 

“Why would you have to leave?” Phil asked. He really didn’t want to make assumptions about Wil’s family. 

Wil scoffed, “because I know you’re just going to get tired of me and realize I’m not worth the extra resources! Or you’ll get too annoyed of Tommy and kick him out. If he leaves, I go with him-” Wil paused, viciously wiping the tears from his face. “Or I’ll end up hurting you or Tech and you’ll get mad and-” There was a moment of silence before Wil started talking again. “I can’t let Tommy get hurt. Physically or emotionally. Please don’t make this harder.” 

“Wil,” Phil sounded too much like his father before punishments. He was disappointed. “I would never hurt you or Tommy. You’ve already proved to be worth everything in this world. There is nothing you could do to make me change my mind. You’re so much like Adrian…” The room went silent. Phil had tears in his eyes, “William, I’ve lived on my own for several centuries. Having someone talk to me for even a few minutes is like a dream come true. On top of that, you didn’t yell at me when I showed you my wings. Wil, you are already very, very important to me. There is nothing that could change my mind. As an adult, it’s my job to protect you.” 

“You aren’t my father,” Wil whispered. The moment the words left his mouth, he flinched backward expecting to be hit. Techno still sat on the ground, watching the conversation as he ate his potato. When the hit didn’t come, Wil started slowly lowering his hands. Phil hadn’t moved from his spot in the doorway, the only change was the fresh tears and the way Phil hung his head. 

“I know. I know, William. Wil, who made you think that you-” His words abruptly stopped, “that you would…” 

“Please don’t make me say it,” Wil whispered. The atmosphere of the room dropped significantly. 

“I won’t. You’re safe here. I won’t let anyone hurt you while you’re here, William.” 

“Gods, I wish I could change my name.” Wil sniffled, his tears had finally stopped. 

“Why don’t we?” Phil asked, “mind if I come in?” Phil once again waited for an answer from both boys before entering the room. “Wil, can I give you a hug?” The small boy looked up at Phil confused. 

“I thought…” Wil trailed off before nodding. He was extremely touch starved. His father made sure the only touch he got was from his brother or when he was being punished. The gentle touch from the Avian felt like heaven. It was both too warm and not warm enough. His skin prickled where Phil had just been touching. Wil let out an involuntary whine when Phil pulled away, making the Avian pause. 

“I’m gonna sit down, would you like to sit next to me?” Phil watched the boy intently. The slight nod he got was enough of an answer for him to sit on the bed rather than the floor. Wil sat a few inches away from Phil, sighing happily as Phil placed an arm around him. “Is this ok?” Wil nodded again, melting into the touch slightly. It took every ounce of restraint for Phil to not wrap his left wing around the boy in a protective manner he hadn’t used in years. “How about that name?” Phil gently asked. 

Techno jumped onto the bed with them, handing Wil a book. “Charlotte’s Web?” Wil asked. Techno had been trying to read it for weeks. Techno nodded, opening the book to the third page and pointing at a name. 

“Wilbur,” Techno smiled. Wil smiled back at him. 

“I like that,” the boy sniffled again. 

“Ok, Wilbur,” Phil smiled. Wil wiped his face again and leaned into Phil. The Avian lost his last bit of self-control and wrapped the two boys under his wing. Wil tensed for a moment before relaxing again. The three sat on the bed for another twenty minutes before they heard Tommy babbling. Wil quietly laughed. “I’m surprised he didn’t wake up earlier…” Phil whispered, standing to grab the boy.

Chapter Text

Everybody dies. That became a simple fact of life. What happens after death is hard to discern. Some people are reincarnated, some people go to the void, some people disintegrate, and the rest go to the Blood God. He started his project when the General began visiting the Below. The Blood God took souls that worshiped him and made them his slaves. Over time, he demanded more. More souls, more death, more sorrow. 

Death was devastated when she had to escort people away from their families. She saw herself in them, she saw her sons in every little boy. When the Blood God demanded more, she wanted to deny… she couldn’t. 

Techno found that since he could now understand and speak English, he could understand the Piglin’s that lived in the Gaeason. The day he learned this, he begged Phil to bring him to the Below. Phil agreed to take him the next day. Techno stepped into the portal and backed down. He consistently repeated ‘I can’t’ until Phil brought him back into the house. Wilbur offered to go with them, but Phil didn’t want Tommy in the Below until he was old enough to run (Techno agreed, having been down there with no one to help).

Techno wanted to try going to the Below again. That’s why Phil and Techno stood at the portal, Techno gripping Phil’s hand tightly. Phil had assured Techno that he didn’t need to go several times, but the boy still insisted. If he didn’t like it, he could leave. If he really didn’t like it, he could stay with Phil. He thought he wouldn’t like it, but it was still important to him. 

The portal hummed sickeningly, the swirls making Techno nauseous. “You don’t have to do this, mate,” Phil reminded. 

“I know. I think that a few months away is long enough for now though,” Techno smiled and looked at Phil. “Four months away and I’m already happier.” 

The two stepped into the overwhelming heat that radiated from the obsidian. Phil’s ears popped with the rush of air, Techno became lightheaded. The heat seemed more intense than usual, making Techno wonder if being in the Gaeason had that large of an effect on him. Phil gestured for Techno to follow him, heading toward where Techno found Phil. When they hit the makeshift door, Techno walked past it. 

“Where are you going?” Phil asked, standing slightly behind him. 

“He won’t be able to answer you, he’s a runt!” A nearby Piglin shouted. Phil didn’t even look at him, Phil continued following Techno. 

“My sibling’s house,” Techno answered. The Piglin glared at Techno, growling under his breath. Techno ignored him, “I wasn’t allowed to have a house or job.” 

“I’m sorry, mate.” Phil muttered, “Hopefully that’ll change.” Techno stopped at a door, knocking lightly. A youngin opened the door, stepping aside to let Techno and Phil in. “That’s poor security.” 

Techno snorted, “you don’t need good security when you’re a Godsend.” 

“What?” Phil asked, staring at his the boy. There was a moment of Phil staring at Techno in complete silence. 

“Hello, sir.” A young woman started, “I assume my brother led you here? I apologize for any inconvenience you may have had getting here.” 

“It’s fine, Godsend. We didn’t have any-”

“How in the name of Blood God!?” The woman screeched, backing away slightly. “You’re a runt, you aren’t supposed to- You’re a Hybrid runt, who taught you to speak?” 

“We did,” Phil spoke. “Me and my… Wil.” Phil took a step forward, gently placing a hand on Techno’s shoulder. The woman growled at the action. 

“Hybrid runts aren’t meant to be touched, spoken with, or seen. They’re disgraces to society.” Techno sagged, he had hoped his sister would be different. She had always seemed so nice to him… He wondered if she had been angry with him all those times he couldn’t understand her.

“Techno, mate. Let’s go soon, yeah?” Phil asked, hand still on his shoulder. Techno nodded grimly. 

“You gave him a name? PIGLIN’S DON’T HAVE NAMES!” The woman stood, grabbing a sword and pointing it at Techno. The tip was barely touching the boy’s skin. “You should be executed.” 

Phil pushed the blade aside, stepping in front of Techno and flaring his wings. There was less than a second before she was disarmed and pinned to a wall. Techno stood shocked as an intense aura of protection and anger radiated from Phil. 

“You will not touch him. Technoblade is under my protection and care. If I wish to teach him how to speak, read, and fight, I will. If anyone is to hurt him, they will be found dead the next morning.” Phil growled, wings swinging back and lightly touching Techno. “Do you understand?” The woman whimpered slightly, not giving Phil an answer. “Do I need to repeat myself? I expect an answer when I ask a question. Do you understand?” 

The Piglin whimpered again, “Yes, General.”

“Good,” Phil calmly moved away from her and walked back to Techno’s side. “Next time I expect an immediate response.” The Piglin nodded, staring at Phil in shock. Phil softened his tone, “Techno? Would you like to head back now?” 

Techno shook his head, “I was going to ask Godsend for a book about the Below. I thought Wil would like it.” 

Phil smiled lightly, “I think you’re right, but I also think we’ve overstayed our welcome.” 

Techno nodded, turning to leave. “Next time we come, we should bring Tommy and Wil.” 

The Piglin watched the interaction, noting how the General treated the runt Technoblade as an equal. She wondered if this was how he treated all creatures or if it was just her brother. She froze when the General looked back at her. “I’ll make sure you can fight properly before our next visit, mate.” 

Techno’s mood lightened instantly, “really? You’ll teach me how to fight?” 

Phil laughed, following the boy out of the house. “Yes. If you work hard, you could be better than me!” Phil smiled as the boy became excited. 

“I don’t think I’ll be better than you. An equal, maybe. But not better. You’re too good for that,” Techno smiled. They walked up a hill, heading toward the portal. 

Phil chuckled, “Anyone could be better than me. All it takes is practice. Are you ready to go home?” Techno nodded, yawning slightly. “Did you sleep well?” Techno shook his head, yawning again. “Alright, mate. How about we take a nap when we get home, yeah?” 

Technoblade smiled, nodding again. The boy tripped slightly, making Phil wrap his wing around Techno. Phil bent down and picked up Techno, carrying him the rest of the way to the portal. The boy started falling asleep on Phil’s shoulder. 

“Techno? Mate?” Phil lightly shook the boy, arriving at the portal. “C’mon, mate. I can’t carry you through here,” the Avian set the boy down and gripped his hand. The sickening swirl of the portal enveloped them as they walked through. 

“Phil? I don’t want to go back to the Below for a while,” Techno whispered. 

“That’s alright, mate. You don’t have to.” Once they were all the way through the portal, Phil picked Technoblade up again. The boy immediately burrowed himself into Phil’s neck and began falling asleep. Phil smiled, gently rubbing Techno’s back, “Goodnight, mate.” 

“G’night, dad. Love you,” Techno’s words were muffled and slurred, but- to Phil- they were louder than thunder. 

“I love you too, Techno.” 

Chapter Text

When William was born, his family was ecstatic. The dying kingdom finally had an heir! The people of the kingdom were given a new hope, if their royal family was growing, there was a chance their land would too. The people saw it as a good omen. Wil’s father threw a banquet, inviting the other kingdom over to celebrate for a night. The Watson kingdom agreed, calling a ceasefire for the night. The war ended a few months later, with both sides agreeing to a treaty. 

When William turned 5, his mother became pregnant again. The doctors thought the new child would be a girl. Wil was playing outside when he heard his mother scream. She fell down the stairs trying to get Wil for dinner. The doctors were fired when they told the king his child died. 

That was when it started.

The king began punishing Wil, telling him that their lost daughter was more important than him. The new physicians were fired when they stitched Wil’s wounds back together. The purple and blue were almost faded before his father would put more on him. It was a never-ending cycle. 

When Wil turned 7, his mother became pregnant again. His father refused to leave her side. The third set of doctors said this child was a boy, and the king said William would be less important than the new child. William was in the room. For a while, the bruises stopped. April 9th, the kingdom rejoiced. The new child was born. His parents couldn’t decide on a name. 

The bruising stopped for a week. Instead, the king demanded that Wil help his mother. If William was less than perfect, the king would refuse to give him food. His mother would slip him crackers. When the king found this out, the queen was no longer allowed to see her oldest son. The bruising came back twice as bad. There seemed to be a permanent boot print on Wil’s side. 

William wanted to hate his brother for it, he wanted to absolutely despise him. He couldn’t. The baby was far too sweet, too adorable, and too innocent for that. He knew it was his father, but a part of him thought it was himself. He eventually began believing his father when the insults were thrown at him. He believed his father when he said the baby would always be more important than him. 

The Watson royal family came to visit the Soot kingdom again on April 28th. The Watson king was horrified to see William so skinny. He demanded to know why the boy was half the size he should be. When the Soot king refused to answer, the Watson king threatened war. The Soot king responded by saying his boy deserved it, he didn’t need parenting advice. The Watson king began looking over William. He declared a war on the kingdom when he saw the yellow-green bruising and scars that decorated Wil’s body. 

Three months later, the Watson king heard that the Soot queen and children were going on a small trip around the outskirts of their kingdom to check on the people. The Watson king took the opportunity to hijack the carriage. The queen confirmed that her sons had been there, but she was afraid they would be injured. The Watson king began searching for the boys and allowed the queen to go back to her king. She took the offer. 

That was the last anyone had seen of her. 

 Wilbur loved his new name. The moment Phil started calling him ‘Wilbur’, he got a rush of joy. Hope blossomed in his chest as he realized that he could move on. He no longer had to worry about bruising or going hungry, Phil would take care of him. He no longer had to worry about Tommy, Phil would help. The boy was no longer Prince William Soot, son of King Amenadiel Soot. He was now Wilbur. Just Wilbur. For once, he felt like he could be himself. Phil offered to let Wil take his last name- Minecraft. Wilbur declined, explaining that he wanted Tommy to know there were other families, that he couldn't trust everybody. He was fine with Wilbur Soot. However, he changed how he pronounced it. 

Everything was calm in the Minecraft-Soot house. Techno and Phil were in the Below, visiting Technoblade’s family. Tommy had just fallen asleep and Wilbur was in the kitchen, making bread and jam (something Phil was grateful for, his bread was always either undercooked, overcooked, or just plain bad. Wilbur knew how to make good bread). The house was near silent, the only noises were Wilbur humming and the ingredients mixing. Wilbur was just putting the bread into the fire when there was a knock on the door. He quickly moved to open it, seeing a boy about his age and a king.

“Hello, sir. How may I help you?” Wilbur asked, he recognized the man faintly, but couldn’t remember how. 

“I’m looking for the farmer who lives here,” the king muttered. “I wasn’t aware he had a son.” 

“I apologize, your majesty. He has three sons,” Wil muttered. “I’m the middle.” 

“Do you mind if I come in?” The king asked, the boy whispered protests by his side. Wilbur stepped aside, allowing the man in. “Thank you. This is my son, Clay.” Wilbur nodded his greeting to the young prince… well the other prince. 

They sat silent for a moment before Tommy started crying again. Wilbur excused himself, running to the room where Tommy was supposed to be sleeping. He carefully took a moment to compose himself, grabbing his brother and moving back into the room with the king. 

“I apologize for that, Tommy’s usually calm…” Wilbur muttered, setting Tommy in a crib Phil had made the third day they were there. Wilbur smiled at his brother and moved on to the bread. He carefully removed it from the oven, giving the king and prince an apologetic look. “Please, sit. I’m not sure when my father will be back.” 

The king gratefully took his seat, his son sitting next to him. The four sat in an awkward silence before Tommy started babbling again. Wilbur smiled again, picking his brother up and moving to the sitting area. 

“He’s adorable,” the king smiled. “You said his name is Tommy?” Wilbur nodded. 

“M-my father named all of us after a book character. Techno came from ‘The Tales Of The Great Avians’, Tommy came from ‘Thomas The Tank Engine’,” Wilbur stuttered, finally recognizing the king. 

As if he was summoned, Phil walked through the door. “Wilbur? Tech fell asleep, I’m going to take him up to his room. I’ll join you in a moment,” Wil nodded (though he knew Phil couldn’t see him). When Wil heard Phil returning, he carefully levelled his voice. 

“We have guests,” Wil gestured to the royals. “This is King Watson and his son Prince Clay.” 

“I never told you my name…” The king tilted his head slightly. 

“Unlike my father, I enjoy small doses of people. I learned where the nearest village is and visit often,” Wilbur lied. Phil was impressed with how easily the boy’s silver tongue slipped. 

“Ah, your highness-”

“Majesty, father.” Wil corrected. Phil smiled at the boy, proving he was doing it purposely to annoy Wil. 

“Welcome to my cabin… again. Give me one moment please.” Phil turned to Wilbur, “how has Tommy been?” Wilbur shrugged, grabbing the baby and passing him to Phil. Wilbur promptly left the room, his breathing speeding up. He was afraid the king or prince would notice his laboured breathing and ask why. 

The prince followed Wil to the kitchen. “Are you alright?” His small voice spoke out. He seemed confident, yet drawn back. Almost as if he was trying to keep a very important secret. 

Wil cleared his throat, “yeah. Yeah, I think so. I’m just… a lot of people.” Wilbur attempted to slow his breathing, doing the exercise Phil had taught him a few days earlier and sliding down the wall into a sitting position. 

“I thought you said you enjoy people?” Prince Clay asked. 

“In small doses, your majesty. I typically see the same people every day, even when I go into the village it’s the same village, the same people.” Wil responded, smiling at the prince lightly. 

“That makes sense. Please, call me Clay. I don’t really like the formality that comes with being a Prince.” Wilbur had to stop himself from agreeing. If he were to step even slightly out of line, they would take Tommy away. They would bring Tommy back to his father, he couldn’t let that happen. Clay sighed, sitting down next to Wilbur. “Have you always lived here?” 

“No,” Wilbur immediately answered. “Phil adopted me and Tommy a few months ago,” Wilbur let slip from his mouth. “I used to live in the Soot kingdom. I hated it there, so I left. I took Tommy with me and Phil found us in the woods a little ways away from here.” 

“That’s nice. He seems like a nice person,” Clay smiled. Wilbur thought he looked like Prince Charming from his books- blonde hair and striking green eyes, a clean dress shirt and pants, and a deceiving smile. Wilbur nodded reluctantly.

“He is. He’s the best father I could ever ask for,” this wasn’t a lie. Wilbur knew he was very lucky to have Phil taking care of him and Tommy. He silently thanked whatever Gods were listening that Phil found him. 

“Clay?” King Watson called from the sitting room. “It’s time to leave.” The two boys stood up, Wilbur following Clay out of the kitchen. The prince stood by his father’s side for a moment. “It was lovely to meet you, Wilbur. Have a wonderful day,” the king’s voice sounded like honey, and Wilbur briefly wondered if everyone in their family did. The king left the house, closing the door firmly behind him.

“A few weeks ago, he claimed his sons were missing. I assumed he meant you and would recognize you. Yet there he goes, not sparing a second glance.” Phil muttered, turning to Wilbur. “Can you explain that?” The question was genuine, not a hint of anger laced behind it. 

“He’s the king of the Watson kingdom. I was the prince of the Soot kingdom. They’re in a war because my father felt disrespected by King Watson,” Wilbur glanced at the door before sighing. 

Phil nodded, placing a hand on Wilbur’s shoulder. “Thank you for telling me,” Phil smiled. “Let’s go to bed, yeah? It’s pretty late.” Wilbur glanced out the window to see it was completely dark. He nodded, grabbing Tommy from the crib in the corner (Phil had put him in there shortly after Wil handed the boy to the Avian). 

“Yeah, I think that’d be smart.” He chuckled lightly. Wil followed Phil into the room. Once Tommy was safely tucked in, Wilbur moved to see Technoblade. This had become his nightly routine, put Tommy to bed, check Techno, go to bed. It seemed to be ingrained in his brain. “It’s my birthday, soon,” Wilbur whispered, climbing into his bed.

“Is it? I’ll have to get you a present. Is there anything you’d like?” Phil asked. Wilbur shook his head a moment before remembering the village…

“Actually… there’s an abandoned village nearby, I took Tommy in there before finding you. In one of the houses, there were beautiful guitars… I’d love to learn how to play one,” Wilbur glanced at the man, trying to gauge his reaction.

“We can visit tomorrow, yeah?” Wilbur smiled at Phil. “I can make you a custom one later, as well.” Phil’s heart slightly ached as he remembered his son. “Good night, Wilbur.” Phil smiled. The Avian carefully moved across the room, gently pulling Wil’s blanket up to his chin. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“G’night, dad. Love you,” Wilbur muttered, turning red as he realized what he said. 

“I love you too, Wilbur.” A weird sense of pride filled Phil’s chest. He felt as though he was nearly whole again after being empty for so long. A small part of him knew he would never be whole, this was the closest he would get. But he was happy. And that’s all that mattered to him. 

Chapter Text

The Watson kingdom wasn’t the biggest or smallest of the four original kingdoms. The kingdom favoured relationships over property. It was the kindest of the four kingdoms. When the others went into discord and fought, the Watson king kept his kingdom separate. He spent his days keeping the pain of war from his kingdom. This trend continued for generations. 

By the time Orion Watson became king, there were only two kingdoms. The Soot king was powerful and ambitious. He attacked the Watson kingdom in haste. The kings agreed after their sons were born, they both wanted the best future for their heirs. Orion was a simple man with strict beliefs: parents are there to guide, not control. Children deserve respect until it is proven that they don’t. Parents should not physically harm their children.

Parents should not physically harm their children.

When Orion brought his son, Clay, to the Soot kingdom when Clay was eight, he was horrified. William was far too skinny, almost unrecognizable behind the deep colours that so vastly contradicted the soft pale of the boy’s hands.  

Parents should not physically harm their children. 

Orion demanded that Jameson hand over his son so William could have a better life. Jameson declined. 

It was the first time the Watson kingdom declared war. It was the first time the Watson kingdom in its entirety agreed to despise- hate, even- a single person. It was the first time the Soot kingdom was opposed. It was the first time Jameson Soot was attacked directly. It was the first time a prince went missing. 

Parents should not physically harm their children. 

 It was the summer of Tommy’s eighth birthday. The farm was thriving, Wilbur was excellent on the guitar (he even made his own songs, making an album of sad songs and a few hilarious ones to make Tommy laugh), and Techno and Phil had been sparring all day. Wilbur knew because Tommy was complaining about it. For three hours. 

Tommy tried to deny it, but everyone in the house knew the boy enjoyed hearing the greek stories his older brother told (Phil had gotten Techno a book on greek mythology when Techno turned twelve). Tommy's (and Techno’s) favourite story was of Theseus, though Techno never told the ending. Of course, Tommy whined every time Techno pulled away. Techno always told him he wasn’t ready, and when he was ready, Techno would just hand him the book. Tubbo- Tommy’s best friend who traveled all the time, only settling down for weeks at a time- often told Tommy that Technoblade was just trying to protect him. 

Much to Wilbur and Tommy’s pleasure, Techno walked through the door. Tommy failed to notice the panicked state the oldest brother supplied. 

“Tech?” Wil asked. Tommy paused his celebration to look at his brothers, confused. When Wil moved toward Techno, Tommy decided to make a joke. 

“Techno, what’s wrong? Did dad beat you again?” The youngest joked, expecting at least one of his brothers to smile at him. Instead, he got a glare from Technoblade and an unreadable expression from Wilbur.

“Tommy, not the time for jokes.” Wil reprimanded. Tommy muttered an apology, taking a seat on the floor in front of his journal (when Wilbur expressed how much his book helped him, Tommy asked for one of his own. Phil and Tommy spent hours trying to get the perfect bind. When it was complete, Tommy boasted about the book for days). 

“People. There are people outside,” Techno barely whispered. He was visibly becoming more anxious. Wilbur took a moment to remind his brother of the breathing exercise that often helped when either of the older siblings had a memory-fueled nightmare. 

Wilbur waited until Technoblade’s breathing was almost even before speaking again, “what do you mean?” 

“------- humans. Outside. Phil is trying to get them to leave,” Tommy was confused… the last time humans came to the cabin, it was King Orion (who insisted the boy just call him Orion, but Tommy still thought it was rude) and he had said that his kingdom would leave them be. King Orion had come over every few months, dropping off extra clothes with his son and daughter and arranging deals with Phil. Tommy didn’t understand why.

“But, why?” Tommy glanced between his two older brothers. They could trust people… right? Surely no one would want to attack Phil after he had proved to be stronger than the palace guards… right? The knights had called Phil ‘Death’s Angel’, they claimed he was the strongest person (though Tommy knew he was an Avian) and banned people from coming around unless they had permission from both King Orion and the guards. 

“Tommy, most people are cruel. Most people only care about themselves. If Phil hadn’t accepted us into his home, you would’ve been the same way,” Wilbur whispered. Wilbur knew his biological father planned on spoiling Tommy, he planned on allowing Tommy to do whatever he wanted. 

“What? Why me?” Tommy knew Phil wasn’t his real father, but Phil was his dad. He knew his brother hid secrets from him. He didn’t pry- the last time he did, Wilbur started crying and shaking. 

“You were our father’s favourite. His greatest achievement. I’m-” Wilbur choked in a breath, tears gathering in his eyes. “I’m his biggest ---- up.” Tommy stared at his brother. Silence overtook the house, the brothers shared a moment of contemplation. Tommy moved to hug Wil as Techno stood straight. 

“They’re coming inside. One of them has photos of you, Wilbur.” Techno took a deep breath, “He says he’s your father.” Wilbur silently thanked Techno’s enhanced hearing as the front door was thrown open.

“You can’t just-” Phil was angry and trying to stall the man from coming into his house. 

“I  am your king. I will do what I please.” Wil jumped slightly and pulled Tommy close to him, recognizing the man’s voice and grabbing Technoblade’s sleeve to alert him. Techno looked solemn. 

Wilbur was barely able to tell Tommy to stay behind him when the man walked in. The man had short brown hair, almost like a mixture of Tommy and Wilbur’s. He wore the same crest that Wil had around his neck (Wilbur quickly attempted to tuck the necklace into his shirt, only drawing the king’s eyes to it). Tommy peeked at the man from his spot behind his brothers.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to stare, boy?” Tommy flinched at the venom in the man’s voice, looking at Phil to silently beg him to make the man leave. 

Phil felt anger boil in his chest as Wilbur and Tommy both looked at him in fear, Wilbur flinching hard enough to nearly hit Tommy then wrapping his arm around his younger brother. Techno let out a low growl, Phil’s words cutting him off. 

“Don’t talk to my son that way. We are not a part of your kingdom. I’m sure my king would be pleased to find your head on his doorstep,” Phil threatened. Tommy was sure that his wings were flexing underneath his shirt and felt a small smile slide across his features. 

The king took an offended step back, “your son?” The king hissed, “As if I’m blind to the medallion around his neck!” The king pointed at Wil, making him flinch and push Tommy back further. He hadn’t flinched from small movements like that in years… Technoblade growled again, louder this time. 

“Do you even know their names?” Phil asked. The man kept a calm facade.

“Control your pet!" The king spat, pointing at Techno, "You can keep the older one. I just want Michael.”

Tommy looked at Phil confused. His dad’s hand drifted down to his left side. Tommy knew that’s where Phil kept his sword. “That isn’t his name,” Techno hissed. Technoblade stood in front of Wilbur, reaching toward his weapon as well. 

“He is my son. I  get to name him, not some stranger who looked after him!” The king took a step toward Technoblade, and Phil raised his sword. 

“HE’S NOT A STRANGER, HE’S MY DAD!” Tommy yelled. Wilbur quietly scolded Tommy for yelling (and making the king visibly angrier). The king was fuming. 

“Either you come with me, or I send troops here to kill everyone but you.” 

The room fell silent. “Take me instead,” Wilbur whispered. 

“Wil, no! If you go, I go with you. Me and you versus the world,” Tommy was nearly crying at this point. Tommy briefly wondered if Tubbo would swoop in like he did that time a bear was trying to make Tommy his dinner. 

"Tommy, that's not-" The king took a large step toward the boys, making Will flinch again. Techno raised his sword, pointing it at the king's neck. "Techno, put away the sword," Wil ordered, he could see the anger fuming in his father's eyes. "He wouldn't come alone, if you do this we will be attacked."

"I'm surprised you remember me that well…” The king smirked. Techno lowered his sword, glaring at the king. 

“If I go with you, you have to leave them alone.” Wil demanded, “The moment I hear anything happened to my family, I will leave.” Wil ignored the protests from Techno and Phil, focusing on Tom and his father. “Tom won’t let me leave without him, but if you touch him at all-” Wil began shouting, “-we leave. Do you understand?” 

The king’s devious smile never left his face. He seemed to know exactly what Wil would say. Techno and Phil kept trying to get Wil’s attention, trying to get him to stay. 

“Of course,” the king held his hand out for the boys. Neither of them took it, instead, they grabbed onto each other. Wil shouldered past the king, giving Phil a short hug on his way out. Before the king could leave, Techno stopped him. 

“I swear to Gods, if there is a single bruise on either of them, I will hunt you down. Blood for the Blood God,” Techno growled, invoking the anger of a God he had never called upon. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying, mutt .”

Chapter Text

Early on, the blood God had made a deal with the Piglins. The Piglin who kills him will bear the Mark of Chat. Chat was an ancient deity of sorts. The blood God described it as omnipotent beings that constantly demanded sacrifice. He opened up the Trials of the Gods to any Piglin. The Piglins who tried failed miserably. After the 200th fail, the God decided to add a tier onto the social status: Godsend. This tier was assigned to those who attempted to fight the God and survived. The Piglins who were brave enough to stand against him but smart enough to tap out. Over the years, the number of challengers had dwindled down to near nothing. The Blood God’s fighting skills had dwindled as well. 

Technoblade and Phil were devastated. The moment the king left with the boys, Phil collapsed to the floor, sitting with his arms crossed over his legs. Techno’s despair had already turned to anger. This man had just come into his home and taken his brothers without a fight. Technoblade was left to wonder what he had done to make the universe so angry at him. First, he was born as the lowest status, then he was disregarded by his birth family, and now his brothers- one of which taught him to read- were forcefully taken. His father seemed entirely too calm for the situation. 

“Phil? How do we get them back?” Techno near whispered. 

“I-I don’t…” Techno slid down the wall next to his father. There were a few minutes of piercing silence, as the two thought about how they could get their family back together safely. 

“Phil?” The Avian hummed his acknowledgement, pulling his head up from under his arms. “Can humans disobey Gods?” Techno looked at his father, watching him think through what Techno had asked. 

“U-um no? I don’t think so… I haven’t communicated with any of the Gods in a while. I don’t even know if humans remember them. Other than Wil and Tommy. Why?” Phil stumbled over his words. 

“Piglins can challenge the blood God to become the blood God,” Techno muttered, looking forward again. “But if a Piglin fails… they die.” 

“Techno, you aren’t suggesting-” 

“The only thing the blood God has fought in the past four thousand years is Piglins who would rather back down. His fighting has become sluggish, sloppy even. I want to train harder. With you teachin me, it’d only be a few weeks before I could defeat him and become him. I’m sorry for interruptin, but I could do it. Phil, we could do it,” Techno’s accent was still heavy compared to the rest of his family. The slight tones of the Below seeping into every word.

Phil glanced at his son, seeing the hope in his eyes and pushing down the doubts his mind threw forward. He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Let’s get to it then.” 

Tommy absolutely despised being at the castle. The moment he got there, he was ridiculed for being loud… Tommy! Being loud! He already regretted being there. So far the only even semi-good thing about the castle was that the king had allowed Tommy to stay with Wilbur… the odd thing was that the king didn’t call him ‘Wilbur’. He called the older boy ‘William’. What kind of crappy name was that? ‘PrInCe WiLlIaM’. Tommy already wanted to make fun of it. 

But Tommy also saw the way Wilbur acted. He saw the panic and stress on his older brother’s face. He saw the way Wil went from calm and sucked into a book to completely rigid and focused on Tom just by the king walking into the room. Tom hated it. He wanted his brother back. The one that spent time reading him history books even when Tom complained about it. Tommy hated the way his brother glanced at the door every five minutes. Most of all, he hated how there wasn’t any music. 

Wilbur couldn’t grab his guitar before they left, and there weren’t any instruments in the palace. Most of the palace was dead silent. The only sounds being the conversations Tommy had with Wil and the occasional yell that would put Wil on edge. The music helped both of them, but it was torn away as suddenly as they were.

Wil and Tommy had shut themselves into a bedroom. It seemed like the king had planned on it, as there were two beds on the same end of the room. One wall was covered in practical books (cookbooks, foraging, hunting, and crafting), while the rest were empty. No colour, no paintings, no decorations, just bare walls. Tommy felt trapped in the room. Logically he knew he could just open the door and leave, but he also knew Wil would follow him. He didn’t want to upset Wil or make him feel like he needed to protect Wil. He also didn’t want to run into whoever was yelling.

The king had visited the boys a few times, insisting they join him for one thing or another. Most of the offers had been declined. The offer for lunch, a walk through the garden, a tour of the castle (Wil had insisted he remembered the layout, Tommy was confused. Remembered?), and a simple walk through the library had all been declined. The boys had stayed in their room the entire first day, and Tommy wasn’t blind to the fact that Wil hadn’t slept when the first signs of morning crept over the windowsill. 

Tommy’s thoughts were interrupted by three sharp knocks on the door, followed by a guard speaking. “Downstairs in ten minutes. This is not a request, dress appropriately.” 

“What do they mean ‘dress appropriately’?” Tommy asked Wil. 

The older sighed and began rifling through the clothes that had been provided. He picked simple dress shirts (a black one for him, and a startlingly white one for Tom) and dress pants. He began getting ready silently. Tommy followed his lead, putting on the -in his opinion, ugly- outfit. Tommy followed Wil out the door and down the steps. His brother stopped suddenly, causing Tom to follow his gaze. At the door stood King Orion and Prince Clay.

“Your highness, it’s been a while.” Wilbur interrupted. 

“Wil? When Jameson mentioned he had found his sons, I didn’t expect to see you…” King Orion looked between Wil and the king confused, a hint of concern lacing his eyes. Prince Clay had simply been staring at the two princes. 

“Tom and I weren’t aware you were coming,” Wilbur admitted, continuing his walk down the stairs. King Orion let out a tension-breaking laugh, welcoming Tommy into a warm embrace. 

“Yes, well. To be honest, I wasn’t aware I was coming either.”

“You know each other?” King Jameson glared at Wil, making the boy gently pull Tommy toward him. Tommy followed without hesitation.

“We accidentally met. I thought your son’s names were William and Michael, not Wilbur and Thomas. If I had known it was them, I would have brought them to you sooner.” King Orion glanced at the two princes, seeing Wil huddle Tommy in closer and whisper something in his ear. “However, I still hold a grudge against you. Seeing that you have taken Wil and Tommy from Techno and Phil, that pond of disdain has become an ocean.” 

“You have no right to be upset about me grabbing my boys!” King Jameson yelled, taking an angered step forward. One of the guards in red stepped toward the king, drawing his weapon slightly. 

“Nick, stand down.” Prince Clay ordered, “I apologize, King Jameson, but Phil and Technoblade protected Tommy and Wilbur for years. What makes you think they aren’t family, in a way?” Wil could tell the young voice was doing his best to be charming, turning the typical honey tone into something more like fresh syrup. 

“Their names are Michael and Wilbur.”

King Jameson stared at Prince Clay, anger beginning to burn through him. Wilbur took the initiative to push Tommy up toward their room, following what the elder had told him earlier. ‘If I tap you twice go straight to the room, don’t look back, and don’t panic. I’ll be fine.’ 

If only Wil believed his own words. 

“Where is he going?” King Jameson glared at Wilbur. Wil straightened himself, easily reverting to the quiet attempt at confidence his father had instilled in him when he was younger. 

‘Princes are to be seen, not heard. Princes must be ready to serve their kingdom at any point in time. Princes must be calm. Princes must be kind. Princes must listen to their fathers. Princes must not talk back. Princes must take any punishment seen fit to their actions.’

“He asked to go up to our room to grab Prince Clay’s book,” Wilbur lied. The Soot prince glanced over to the Watson prince, “I’d like to apologize for his forgetfulness. He was supposed to return it months ago.” Prince Clay covered his confusion, nodding to every word Wil said. Tommy didn’t borrow any books from Prince Clay… Neither had Wil. 

King Orion realized what Wilbur was trying to do. He was trying to get his brother away from the angry king as quickly as possible. No matter if he was their father or not, Tommy was not safe by King Jameson. 

“Ah, the one about constellations… I wasn’t aware Tommy was interested.” Wilbur had a book of constellations by his bedside, King Orion knew Wilbur would have brought it with him. 

Wilbur smiled, “yes. He tends to ask me and Techno to read him books before bed. He prefers informational ones over fairytales.” 

“Better than you,” King Jameson scoffed. “You and your fairytales of Avians.” Prince Clay held back a laugh… Prince Clay knew Phil was an Avian, he had once found one of Phil’s feathers on Wil’s bed at the cabin. When he asked Wil about it, Wil answered ‘oh that’s Phil’s’.

Wilbur glanced at Prince Clay- who had turned away from King Jameson to hide his smile. Wil pushed down one of his own, knowing exactly what would happen if Jameson (he refused to call him father after the carriage ride. Phil was his father, not this… cockalorum. !!Donnie here, I had to look that up. How does Wil know a word that the narrator doesn’t? Anyway, it means a boastful or self-important person. Why didn’t Wil just call him snobby or something like that?!!) saw him. 

“Yes, Wilbur does seem to like his fables.” King Orion laughed.

“His name is William, not Wilbur!” King Jameson yelled, taking a half-step toward King Orion.

“Wil?” Tommy half-whined, going down the stairs. Wilbur winced at his tone… ‘Princes must not whine’. “I can’t find Prince Clay’s book.” 

Wilbur nodded to the other royals, excusing himself to grab the book of constellations to further the illusion that Tom had borrowed a book. 

By the time Phil and Techno had finished for the night, Techno had disarmed Phil four times. Once or twice was an uncommon occurrence, so being taken down four times was new to the Avian. Phil congratulated Techno, grunting at him to go inside and get washed up. Techno- of course- protested. (‘Phil, we need to keep going-’ ‘Techno, you won’t be able to fight if you don’t have any energy. We’ll continue tomorrow.’) 

When the morning came, Technoblade was beyond ready to fight. Being trapped in a room with constant reminders that you weren’t able to keep your family safe were logs on a fire. The extra food Phil made from habit was gasoline. The empty beds, books thrown about, and broken guitar were nearby trees. All he needed was a match. 

Phil made him do farm chores first, much to Techno’s displeasure. The Avian was already dreading letting his son travel to the Below, but fighting a God too? How would they decide who wins? Gods can’t die unless you have a FireBlade. (Techno knew this, but Techno also knew that the God fought with his FireBlade. That’s why Techno was working so hard to disarm Phil, then ‘strike’). 

After the chores, they sparred again. And again. And again. Technoblade disarmed Phil each time, refusing to tell the Avian why. Phil started guarding his weapon more, yet Techno was still able to get it away from him. They sparred over 50 times. 

This pattern continued for a week straight. Techno would go to an empty room filled with fuel for the fire, do his farm chores, then spar with his father. Every day, Techno got better. Every day, the fire grew. Until the day he left for the Below. 

A week at the castle and Tommy wasn’t liking it any better. King Orion had left after the third day- to King Orion, it was the second. The day after the king left, King Jameson had called the boys down for dinner. This time, they didn’t get an option. The dinner was quiet, but Jameson made Tommy leave early (only after Wil promised to be up behind him). 

Since that dinner, Wilbur had spent every day with the king. Wil would come back late at night, tuck Tommy in, then move to his own bed. The one time that Tommy was up when Wil came back, he saw Wil limping back to his bed. Limping. 

Tommy refused to see the king alone after that night. 

Wilbur tried to hide all of his injuries from Tommy. The bruised ribs and arms were easy, he wore a jacket most days anyway. The limp was difficult, but he could do it. Wilbur obviously noticed the way Tom looked at the king. Intense anger and disgust painting his face each day. One morning, Tommy begged Wil to stay in the room with him. Wilbur had to decline. He was trying to keep Tommy from King Jameson, not expose him to the horror that hid behind closed doors. 

Wilbur was starting to lose hope in Techno and Phil. Every morning before Wil would join King Jameson, Tommy would say ‘they’ll come for us today’. He could see the dedication in his brother’s eye, and that’s what kept him from giving up. 

The older brother pulled himself through the halls of the castle. He had been informed that the king was already angry. The guards had given their daily report at breakfast- which Wilbur had skipped, not wanting to vomit again. Apparently, the Watson kingdom had attacked their southern border, nearly breaking through the Soot defenses. Wilbur knocked on the large wooden door leading to the ‘War Room’. The king opened the door, dragging the prince into the room. Wil kept quiet. He knew what would happen if he spoke out of turn. The king ran through his war plans, expecting feedback from Wil (though Wil knew the king wanted him to praise the plan). Wilbur saw a flaw in the plan. He refused to interrupt his father, waiting until the king had gone through the entire plan. The king paused, giving Wilbur a look that said he expected feedback.

“It’s great for the most part…” 

“What do you mean, boy?” The king hissed. Wilbur winced slightly and began explaining the flaw in the plan. 

Phil had taught Wilbur how to make war plans when he was young, while Techno was learning how to fight. The plan in itself was fine, it was the execution. The Watson kingdom was attacking from the southern side, leaving the eastern troops nearly defenceless. If the Soot kingdom were to attack the eastern troops, they could easily defeat them and take control of the castle, and thus beat the Watson kingdom. 

“Do you think you’re smarter than me?” Wilbur quickly muttered ‘no sir’ and moved backward. “Do you think you know war better than me?” Wil continued to mutter his disagreements. Wil backed himself into a wall, watching as King Jameson let fury overtake his rational brain. 

Wilbur knew he couldn’t call King Jameson anything other than ‘father’ to his face. He would be in even worse pain than he already was. He kept repeating his pleas for King Jameson to stop, gods he wished it would stop. The king finally lifted his assault on his son, allowing Wil to push himself into the corner of the room. He could feel bruises forming on his torso. 

“Go to your room. Now,” King Jameson growled. Wil quickly followed his father’s orders, leaning heavily against the wall along the way. Before he could even open the bedroom door, Tommy was there. He pushed open the door and rushed his brother inside. 

“Sweet Prime, Wil! I’m sending the letter!” Tommy yelled, pushing his brother into his bed. 

“The letter?” 

“I wrote a letter to… Dream. The vigilante. Well, the person behind the mask. He’s kind of careless with it…” 

“You wrote a letter… to a vigilante?” Wil stared at his younger brother. 

“Yeah, in case dad and Techno didn’t come in time. I’m sending it tonight. They will come for us tomorrow. They will . I know the man behind the mask, he’s kind and quick to help.” 

They’ll come for us today…

The Watson kingdom had spent the last few weeks trying to figure out how to get the Soot princes away from their father. They had come to a complete stop attempting to save the boys, no further ideas presenting themselves. Clay had become restless. He began spending more nights as Dream. The vigilante that had been running through the kingdom. 

It was easier for Dream to go about the kingdom than it was for Clay too. This night proved him right. He was walking through the kingdom when he heard his father get turned away from a stand for simply being the king. It didn’t happen often, but when it did it was bad. It usually ended in his father sulking home.  

“Could I get three of these, please?” Dream asked (literally ordering exactly what his father had). The store owner- Niki, Dream distantly remembers- walks to the back to grab what Dream had ordered. Once she came back, Dream paid and left. The nighttime mail carrier should be making his way through the kingdom. 

As if the author had planned it (wow, shocker), the mail carrier was just outside of the bakery. Dream slipped the baked goods into his satchel, with a note addressed to the king attached. Before he could disappear again, the mail carrier stopped him. 

“Are you Dream? The vigilante?” Dream stopped his movements, turning to the man. He nodded slowly. “You have a letter… from Prince Michael Soot.” 

“His name is Tommy Minecraft,” Dream grumbled. He quickly took the letter, tipping the mail carrier as an apology for his grumpy outbreak. Dream opened the letter and read the first line, nearly dropping it out of surprise.

 "Dear Prince Clay," fuck. No one was supposed to know, how the hell did Tommy find out?

    "You're Dream. I don't know how I know, but I do. You're Dream. You have to be.  You're the only person stupid enough to- no. Sorry. That's not how this goes. I'm sending this in the hope that you get it before my brother does something extremely stupid. 

    Prince Clay, my brother is too proud or stubborn or whatever to admit that he needs help but he does. His stupid brain is too small to realize that when he gets hurt, I hurt too." Woah, slow down. When Wil gets hurt? Is the king hurting them? "He's not protecting me from anything. Please, we need help. King Watson said I could write to you whenever. King Soot (he's not my father) has been beating Phil. Literally beating" no, no no no no no, that can't- Dream took a breath to calm himself before reading further. "for no reason. A few days ago it was Wil not calling him dad. Yesterday it was Wil calling him father. I keep sitting outside the library when they talk (even though Wil tells me not to) because I'm worried. 

    Clay, I'm worried. 

    He was limping when he came into the room last night. 

    I need your help. As Dream. King Soot has already said he would let Dream and Sapnap into the kingdom. Plus you would be able to fight him without the fear of your reputation as prince.” Dream laughed slightly as he realized how smart Tommy really was, how much he had been underestimating the boy. Dream read the last few lines of the letter quickly. “I’ve written to dad and Techno too, but they haven’t answered. I don’t even know if they’re getting them. If I’m wrong, please still come. If I’m not… I don’t know, wink at me or something when you come? 

Signed, Tommy Theseus Careful Danger Kraken Innit Minecraft.”

“Yo! What’s up, homeslice?” Dream jumped as Sapnap draped an arm over his shoulder. 

“Sap, you can’t just yell like that.” Dream laughed lightly, shoving his friend off. 

“Oooh, Dream! Is that a love letter?” Sapnap moved to try snatching the letter from Dream. 

“Don’t,” Dream growled. Sapnap raised his arms in defense. “It’s not a love letter, and it says my real name like ten times.” Dream ignored Sapnap’s mutter of ‘oh shit’ and continued. “It’s a call for help.” The blaze hybrid immediately turned serious, “we need to go to the Soot kingdom. The palace specifically.”

“Fuck, dude. How are we gonna do that?” Dream sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Lying, mostly. Pretending to like the Soot king-”
“You mean family?” Sapnap interrupted. 

Dream glared at Sapnap. “No. I mean king. The princes have done nothing wrong. I’ve met them, and know them personally. They don’t belong with that…” Dream waved his hands around, “Prime, I can’t even think of an insult bad enough for him!” 

“Alright, chill. I get you. I understand. We like the princes, don’t like the king. But, we have to pretend we do like the king. How do we do that if you can’t even talk about him without getting angry?” Sapnap- after dealing with Dream’s anger before- knew how to quickly diffuse the situation. 

“I need to focus on something… someone. I can do that. If I can get face to face with either one of those princes, I can talk to him no problem.” 

“Are you absolutely positive?” Sapnap smirked at Dream. 

“Entirely and totally,” Dream responded. He glanced back down at the letter, whispering. “We’re coming for you, Toms.” 

“We can be there by tomorrow if we hurry.”

Chapter Text

This isn't the update you're used to, and I apologize for that. A lot has changed since I last updated this story, but just as it started- I've hit a block for my other story and hit a massive inspiration for this one. I'm sorry it's taken so long, but...

Expect a new chapter within two weeks. I'm giving myself a large window on this one due to the fact that I am an adult now, with a fiance, a massive physical disability, and two dogs to care for.

I hope this next chapter is what you were waiting for,

- The Author.

Chapter Text

The Blood God was a simple God. He just wanted . He wanted power, fame, riches, anything he could get his hands on. As the years passed, his spoils of war and anger dwindled in importance. He thought of them less, wanted them less. He yearned for the day someone would actually fight him. He found himself wanting for the day he could step down from the title of “God”. The Piglins didn’t seem to notice the way their God was deteriorating. 

The day was far from what the past week had been. Sure, Techno woke up in the room of fuel, he ate breakfast, did his chores, sat with Phil for a while… but afterwards the two didn’t spar. Instead, they stood at the edge of the portal- neither of them daring to utter a word. Techno took a deep breath and stepped through, Phil following shortly behind. 

The Day of The Blood God was a realm wide holiday, and the Below was decorated accordingly. Large pillars held intricate banners and lanterns, lighting every path, every house had some form of offering in front, every Godsend, Warrior, King, and Child was dressed in their very best outfit- Technoblade adorned with Phil’s General uniform, an elegant white shirt with a deep red sash around his waist, simple dress pants, and a green floorlength overcoat, his hair braided to keep it from getting in his eyes… he hated the braid. Tommy used to braid his hair, having Phil do it felt wrong. The two outcasts walked through the Below carefully, Phil’s head hung low. Techno kept his hand resting on his sword, a determined grimace over his face.

“Runt?” A familiar voice called from beside them. Phil didn’t look, neither did Techno- despite his instinctual twitch towards the voice, “I apologize- Technoblade?” The voice corrected, causing Techno to look over at his sister. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other… you’ve grown, you look…” Techno tensed, a scowl burning onto his face as he waited for an insult, “strong.” 

Techno huffed in surprise, “thank you, Godsend.” He nodded towards her respectfully and continued walking. 

“Are you headed to the Colosseum?” She asked, half jogging to keep up with the two strangers. Techno grunted in agreement. “To become Godsend?” A similar noise came from Techno’s mouth. Godsend gently reached out, grabbing onto Techno’s arm. She waited until he looked at her, “Good luck.” Techno gently removed her hand, giving her a look of gratitude before moving forward again. 

As the two approached the large colosseum in the center of the realm, Phil’s nerves grew. He began ruffling his feathers subconsciously, shifting his gaze around at the other gladiators for the day. They were all dressed similarly- deep brown short sleeved shirts and torn pants that were just a few shades darker than their skin tone. He glanced between them and his son, noticing the differences between them. The long hair that Techno chose to keep versus the gladiators nearly shaven heads, the gruff and dirty appearance they held versus Techno’s extremely well manicured look. He noticed the looks some Piglins gave them as they passed- one of confusion, but deep respect… as if they could tell that Techno was a warrior of a different level simply by looking at him. 

“You ready, mate?” Phil asked as they approached the entrance. 

“To be honest… No. But I have to be. I have to get my brothers,” Techno’s grip on his sword tightened. He took a step in. 

The day was painfully similar to what the past week had been. Wilbur woke up before Tommy, made his way downstairs, sat at the table awaiting King Jameson, and hung his head in a mixture of fear and shame. He was unaware that today’s circumstances were massively different. He was unaware that the King had entered a mood he previously had never seen. 

“William.” The King regarded his son gruffly, “We’re expecting company today, make sure your brother is ready… and keep yourself in line.” Wil nodded silently, standing up to grab his brother, “Not yet, boy.”  Wil’s stomach curled at the disgust in his father’s voice. “I need your help with something first…” 

 Wil turned towards his father as Tommy peeked between the balusters, quickly regretting his decision as he felt bile rise up in his throat. He sprinted back to their room as quietly as possible, sliding against the door as he shut it. Tommy’s breath was heavy and quick as he attempted to calm himself, glancing around the room for anything that could help. He snatched his pencil and some paper from his desk and quickly scrawled out a letter, only stopping when he was called down for breakfast… he felt too sick to eat, but he made his way down anyway- hoping to see his brother sitting at the table, assuring him that it was simply a weird bad dream. 

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he noted the air felt thick… It felt like words unsaid, an argument unfought, and the look on Wilbur’s face as he walked into the room could be described as nothing short of pure fury and odium. 

The day started quite differently than any other for Prince Clay. He hadn’t slept, instead he’d been riding a horse all night through the woods. He was alone, aside from his best friend trotting along beside him. At some point in the night, the blaze hybrid had drifted to sleep- Clay keeping his horse close by, wrestling the reins from his friends hands and tying them to his own saddle. 

Sapnap stirred softly, his eyes slowly opening. “Dude, where are we?” 

Dream startled at the sudden noise, slipping his mask over his face quickly. “We’re almost to the Soot kingdom,” the man answered, untying Sapnap’s horse and handing him the reins back. 

“Have you slept at all?” Sapnap yawned through his sentence, rubbing his eyes furiously. 

“No.” Dream urged his horse to go a little faster. “No time to.” 

Sapnap scoffed, making his horse catch up with his friends. “That’s bullshit. You aren't gonna be able to do much if your reflexes are slowed from lack of sleep.”

“I’ve faced much stronger men on a much larger scale than simply King Jameson. I’ll be fine. He’s slow, weak, and vapid.” Clay growled lowly, turning his horse to the main road. The sound of hooves changed from a low beat to a high pitched clank as the terrain switched from forest floor to cobblestone. 

“Prime… you really hate this guy, huh?” Sapnap tried to make light of the situation, smirking. His attempt fell flat on the ground between them, squashed by their horses hooves and Clay’s stone flat expression. 

‘surely he’d protect them… they’re his sons?’ The young prince looked to his father, confusion filling his face… his father watched, smiling as the Soot prince darted through the woods, the infant held tightly in his purple and green painted arms. “King’s should not harm their children.” Clay repeated his father’s words from years ago.

“Oh shit…” Sapnap whispered. He adjusted his horse’s reins, “we should hurry then, yea?” Dream glanced at his friend and smiled softly. 

“Race you there?” Sapnap smirked at his friend, kicking his horse into a gallop as Dream followed shortly behind. “That’s not fair! You cheater!” 

“It wouldn't be fair if Spirit wasn’t faster than Joffrey!” Sapnap laughed, only a few paces ahead of his friend. 

The two only slowed when they approached the palace, all of their laughter and smiles dissipating as Dream pulled his horse to an abrupt stop in front of the guards. Sapnap slowed beside him, the two taking one glance at each other before jumping off their respective horses and walking them to the gate. The guards tensed as the two vigilantes approached. 

“Dream, Sapnap,” one of the guards stepped forward, greeting the two warmly. “His majesty, King Jameson has been expecting you.” 

“That doesn’t sound good…” Sapnap muttered. 

“I sent a letter ahead. It wouldn’t be good spirit to show up unannounced,” Dream explained, handing his Spirit off to a nearby stablehand, ignoring the glare from his best friend. 

Cheers erupted from around the Colosseum as another Champion- as all who participated in the festivals were called, regardless of their previous status- was crowned Godsend. Techno huffed annoyedly as he recognized the sluggish movements of the Blood God. 

“He’s getting tired,” Techno whispered in his father’s ear. 

“Are you sure about this?” Phil turned to look his son in the eyes, his son turning to reciprocate. 

“Yes. I can do this,” Phil nodded. 

“WHO’S NEXT!?” The Blood God bellowed out, raising his arms in both victory and challenge. For a moment, the crowd simply cheered. All of the Champions had gone… “NOBODY?” The Blood God turned in his spot, a sickening smile sparking across his face. 

Techno took a step forward, Phil slightly behind him. “I challenge you, Blood God.” 

The arena went silent.  “And who might you be?” The Blood God sneered, turning to look at the strange voice, the arena erupted with laughter. He paused as he looked over Technoblade, recognizing the strange clothes to be that of the Avian General. He raised his sword threateningly, “how did you get those clothes?” The Blood God took a step forward, not giving Techno a chance to respond. “Those are not yours, how did you get those!?” 

Techno stood his ground, stepping aside and gesturing to Phil. “They are not mine, you’re correct. They’re my mentor’s… The General of Avians, Death’s Angel… my father.” 

The arena went silent once more. “Death’s Angel, you say…” The Blood God looked over Phil, whose head was hung- his face obscured by his bucket hat. “The Death’s Angel has no need to disguise himself, nor does he have any children.” Techno scoffed, Phil stepping forward to place a hand on the young Piglin’s shoulder. “The Death’s Angel has been childless for centuries now!” 

“Just over three millennia, if I remember correctly.” Phil spoke, effectively silencing the Blood God. “Hello, Michael.” Phil lifted his head as he spoke, revealing his face to the God and the God alone. 

“How… how is that possible…” The God took a step back, fear striking his face. Memories of their last battle flooded the Blood God’s mind. “You aren’t meant to be here!”

“I believe my son has challenged you. You wouldn’t back down from a challenge, would you? Especially not one from a Piglin,” Phil taunted, ignoring the onset booing from the crowd and the awe from his son. 

The Blood God’s face contorted into anger, “of course not!” He hissed, regaining his composure. Phil took a step towards the God, his face devoid of any emotion. 

“Then fight .” Phil turned on his heel, facing his son. “Remember what I’ve taught you.” Techno nodded curtly, handing Phil his overcoat. “You’re strong… don’t let him get in your head.” 

Phil made his way to the stands, giving Technoblade one last pat on the shoulder before heading to his seat at the top. The crowd erupted into cheering and chanting. 

“Blood for the Blood God!” The God bellowed, his people roaring the phrase back at him. 

Techno took his stance, his feet no further than shoulder length apart- as Phil had taught him. The crowd’s cheering grew louder as the Blood God attempted his first strike, the cheers quickly faded as Techno dodged the attack. 

“Are you going to actually fight me? Or are you going to give in like your brothers gave in to their King?” The God taunted Technoblade, turning quickly. Techno could practically see the anger hissing out of his face, grunting a response. The God attempted to rush the Piglin, eyes trained on his torso as Techno dodged yet again- this time catching the God’s blade with his own. 

“ I need that sword. ” Techno growled, the God’s blood went cold as the match lit in Techno's chest. Fire quickly spread through his body, the room full of fuel flashing in his mind. Techno moved quicker than the God could anticipate, knocking the FireBlade from the God’s hands. Fire bleed through his body as he raised the sword, the seemingly endless waiting and chores smoldering in Techno's mind.

Phil laughed loudly, loud enough for the God to hear from the center of the arena. The God looked up at Phil, quickly grasping Techno’s sword from the ground and blocking a hit. The crowd looked around in confusion, their cheers turning to shouts of anger and fear. The Blood God looked up at Phil in time to see him mouth the words that evoked pride in him for years… “ Blood for the Blood God.” He glanced back at Technoblade as the sword was knocked from his hands, the Piglin saying the phrase at the same time as his father. The fire spread to Technoblade’s eyes, turning red as the FireBlade pierced the God’s heart- the memory of Wil flinching away from King Jameson burning through the back of his brain. His fuel had all caught fire, his body burning with the flames. The crowd went silent, aside from Phil’s hurried footsteps to catch his son. 

A small smile spread to the God’s face, “thank you, Blood God.” 

Blood for the Blood God. 

Blood for the Blood God.

E. 

Shut up. New host. 

New host? 

New host. Chat, new host. 

Find his memories. 

Yes, memories. 

Memories….

Technoblade fell, Phil catching him just before he hit the ground. The arena sat in silence before Godsend, Technoblade’s sister, stood. “Blood for The New Blood God!” She shouted, raising her blade in respect before dropping to one knee. 

Techno glanced around the arena, watching as one by one every Piglin that had ever called him names, every Piglin that had snorted at him, sneered at him, called him weak, told him he could never make it to Godsend bowed to their new God. He glanced up at his father, slowly standing by his side. 

“ Blood for The Blood God. ” He growled lowly, the voices of Chat joining him in his war cry. 

“Are you able to walk?” Phil whispered to his son. 

“I think so,” The Blood God whispered back. 

“Are you ready to get your brothers?” Phil glanced up at Techno’s face, seeing his glowing red eyes slowly simmer down to their usual brown. The God nodded. “Let’s go…” 

Chapter Text

Death felt the world shift, she felt the ground shake with fury. She could feel a fissure break open under her feet. She quickly stood, rushing to move her lost souls out of the path. She shushed them calmly, reassuring them with a simple gesture of her large wings. 

A God had died and been replaced. 

Death held her arm out for the Old God to grab as the fissure opened wider.

“Hello, Kristen,” Death stumbled backwards in surprise, catching her footing before long. 

“Michael… How did you-?” She spoke softly, getting cut off before her sentence was finished.

“Your son,” Michael smiled at Death, regarding her as an old friend. His smile grew as she reached for his arm, looking for vindication. “He’s grown into a strong Piglin, led by your husband. I believe they’re on their way to Wilbur and Thomas now.” Death raised a hand to her mouth, tears of joy filling her eyes. Michael let go of her arms, steadying her before cutting contact completely. “Go to them… he can hear you now, he can understand you. Go, I’ll help your people- I know you miss your family, just go.” 

Death leapt forward, sobbing softly into the Old God’s shoulder. “Thank you, Michael.” The Old God sighed, a smile on his face. He broke the hug after a few moments and stepped away from her, opening the path to the Gaeson. 

Dream hid his face further as he entered the palace, hiding the deep frown that had etched its way onto his face. The frown deepened as he realized the princes weren’t in sight of their father. 

“Dream! Sapnap! Welcome to the Soot Kingdom,” the King greeted the two vigilantes with ease. He opened his arms wide, as if the palace was some huge spectacle. Dream bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood to keep himself from scoffing. Blood for the Blood God? He thought, half heartedly. 

Thanks :) 

“Uh…” Sapnap glanced at his friend, who usually spoke for the both of them. “Thank you for having us, your highness-” 

“Majesty, Sap.” Dream corrected, barely able to keep the venom from his voice. Sapnap muttered an apology, glancing at his friend once more. 

The King laughed humorlessly, “please, there’s no burden of an incorrect title amongst legends like you two.” Sapnap could feel the glare burning its way from under Dream’s mask. “I believe your letter said you’d wanted to meet my sons?” 

Dream’s ears perked at this, careful not to let it show he decided to respond. “Yes, I believe it was your younger son who had reached out to me. Thomas?” The King’s lip twitched. “The letter I received said that he was a fan of mine and hoped to meet me in person someday. I don’t think he expected me to actually come.” 

As if he was summoned,Tommy barreled down the stairs- Wilbur not far behind. “DREAM!” 

Dream turned to Tommy, quickly assessing him. He seemed unharmed, not even his mood had a damper on it. “Your highness-” Dream glanced up at Wilbur, immediately noting the limp in the boy’s step. He took a deep breath and adjusted his gaze back to Tommy. “I got your letter.” 

Tommy smiled brightly at the vigilante, turning towards Sapnap. “I’d hoped you’d come!” He turned back to Wilbur, “Wil! Didn’t I say they’d come!” Wilbur let a pained smile across his face- the pain not going unnoticed by the two vigilantes. Tommy looked back at Dream, refusing to look at the King as he spoke again- his smile dropped, a look of disgust crossing his face- “Dad, can we go up to our room? I want to show Dream my art.” 

Wilbur flinched at the term, defeat crossing his face. “Of course,” the King answered, “Just be down before supper.” 

Tommy quickly grabbed the vigilante’s arms, dragging them up the stairs. “C’mon, Wil…” When Wilbur didn’t move, Tommy leaned in close. “Trust me.” He whispered. Wilbur turned on his heel and sluggishly followed Tommy to their room. 

When the door shut behind the four of them, Tommy paused and gagged. “I hate that I just called him… that , he is NOT my dad.” Wilbur laughed lightly from his bed.

“You had me fooled for a second there…” Wilbur glanced around nervously.

“Wilbur, literally how ? I told you exactly what the letter to these two was- by the way, was I right?” Tommy turned his attention to Dream abruptly. 

“You were, Toms.” Sapnap looked at his friend confused as the boy pumped his fist. 

“Why did you guys come?” Wilbur asked, looking at the two masked men confused. 

“Wilbur, I thought Tommy would’ve told you…?” Dream stepped forward as Wilbur shook his head, defeated. 

“He just said he was writing a letter to you and he was certain that you’d come…” Wilbur looked confused between the three others in their room, then settled his eyes on his hands. “I don’t know how he was so certain, nor do I know why you came. I don’t understand…” Dream stepped forward, reaching his hands up to untie his mask- Sapnap glancing at his friend and following the same. “ What about us is so important?” 

Wilbur froze, looking up at the vigilante. “Wilbur Soot-Minecraft, you have always been important.” 

“Wh- Clay? ” The Prince whispered the other’s name, tears quickly gathering in his eyes. 

“Hi…” Clay glanced back at his best friend and sidekick- for lack of a better term… they were equals. Sapnap smiled at the group, his face uncovered. Clay stared for a moment before looking back at Wilbur. “Nick and I have been acting as vigilantes for about three years now. I took the look of an assassin that used to work for the Soot Kingdom- it was the only mask that I felt worked for what I needed. How neither of us figured the other out, I will never know-” Nick, the Prince’s guard, snorted out a laugh as he put his mask back on. “Tommy wrote to me, saying my name at least four times… and I came. Because you, Wilbur Soot-Minecraft, are important. You always have been. And by the stars above and the fires below, you always will b-” 

“ Guards! Attack!” 

All four heads snapped towards the bedroom door. Distant crashing and fighting could be heard from behind the door. “What the hell was that…” Sapnap muttered.

Tommy stood from his spot, rushing over to Wilbur and grabbing his arm. “They came!” 

Phil and Technoblade didn’t try to hide their approach to the castle. How could they when the rage that had been building in the two of them for a week now could finally be expressed? Instead, they crashed through the doors… literally. Techno being dropped from Phil’s arms in his new Godly attire- a blood red cape and crown adorning an outfit eerily similar to Phil’s- and Phil dressed in his General’s outfit, the door shattered from the sheer power of The Blood God and Death’s Angel. 

“Guards! Attack!” The King shouted, tumbling over in an attempt to grab his sword. 

Technoblade threw a guard into the wall lightly , careful not to break any of their bones… They were simply following orders. He was saving his full rage for the King. He shook off the attack, standing slowly. His eyes began glowing red as he approached the King. 

“ Where are my brothers? ” Chat joined the Blood God in his angered state, feeling the memories of his family. 

“They are not yours to-” The King was abruptly cut off as Death’s Angel lifted him off the ground, his wings in full view. 

“He asked you a question, you will answer. Where the fuck are my sons?” The King paled. 

“Th-that’s impossible, you- you’re- Avians aren’t real!” The King stuttered.

“I don’t have time for this…” Death’s Angel dropped the King in front of his son, the new Blood God. “Hold him until I know where Toms and Wil are… If he’s hidden them, we’ll need him to find them.” Techno grunted out understanding. 

Phil quickly took off through the castle, knocking down any guard who stood in his way. He searched every open and any guarded door alike. He knew the Prince’s bedroom would be guarded. 

“Any luck?” Techno called from the Great Hall.

“Not yet… I’ve got three more doors.” Death’s Angel swooped towards a door on the right.

The two guards charged with the door stepped to the side and dropped their weapons, muttering “the Princes are in here.” 

Phil nodded at the two men, tucking his wings as he entered. He was immediately greeted by the mask that had killed his family. His wings spread wide behind him in a threatening stance. “Who are you?” 

“DAD!” Tommy shouted, running out from behind the masked man and into Phil’s arms. The force of the hug knocked the two over. “Dad, I knew you’d come- I told Wil, I told him you’d be here!” Tears and snot dripped from Tommy’s face messily, the Prince’s face buried in his father’s shoulder. 

“Toms, where’s Wil?” Phil gently pulled his son away from his shoulder, keeping an arm around his waist protectively. He shot daggers at the masked figure by the window. 

“Listen- before you go all Death’s Angel on me-” The vigilante started, reaching up to take his mask off. 

“Where is my son?” Phil growled, taking a step forward. 

“Dude! Chill! He’s in the bathroom with Nick-” Clay quickly removed his mask to ease Phil’s anger, replacing it as soon as there was movement by the door. 

Phil relaxed slightly, “Please find a different mask…” 

“Dad?” A small voice nearly whispered from the left of Death’s Angel, nearly as small as the first day he heard it. 

“Wilbur…” Phil collapsed into his sons, relief flooding his body. “Did they hurt you? Are you injured? I brought healing just in case- please tell me you’re alright…” Phil fussed over his sons, his wings wrapping them in a tight embrace. 

“I-I’m-” Wilbur began sobbing, Phil pulling him closer. “You actually came…” 

“I told you they’d come!” Tommy smiled at his brother and dad, the tears in his eyes refusing to fall. 

“Of course I came… You’re my son, Wilbur. No matter blood or status or how you may regard me, I will always always come if you call out to me.” Phil pulled the boys into an even tighter hug. 

“Where’s Techno?” Wilbur sniffled into his dad’s shoulder. 

“He’s downstairs… Do you want to go home?” Wilbur quickly nodded, wincing as he attempted to stand. Phil quickly scooped the boy up, the same way he did when Wilbur was 10 and fell into the bullpen. The three Minecrafts left the room, quickly followed by the two vigilantes. 

“Wilbur… Toms,” Techno smiled at his brothers, his sword still trained on the King’s throat. Techno’s smile dropped as he noticed Wilbur scooped up in their father’s arms. Before he could fully take in Wilbur’s appearance, he turned back to the King with anger burning in his throat. “ What did you do to him?”   The voices of Chat followed Techno’s voice, making Tommy jump slightly. 

“What the fu…” Wilbur trailed off, staring at his brother in shock. 

“Oh- Techno became the Blood God,” Phil turned red as he remembered that he hadn’t remembered to tell them. 

“That’s so sick!” Tommy yelled, “What does that mean?” 

“I’ll explain when we get home,” Phil quickly ushered the boys out of the palace. “Techno,” The Piglin God grunted, his eyes still on the King. “Do what you must.” 

The Blood God nodded at his father’s words, still glaring at the King. “ Blood for the Blood God.”  

Dream shivered as he realized who his little blood sacrifice earlier went to… though he preferred Techno over the previous Blood God. He followed the Minecrafts out of the castle, shutting what was left of the door behind Sapnap. 

“Is he gonna be ok?” Sapnap loosely gestured to the door.

“I mean… he’s a god now, so yea.” Dream shrugged. 

Phil gently set Wilbur down on a nearby rock, villagers began gathering near the base of the castle- the earlier fighting had not gone unnoticed. “Are you alright?” Phil whispered to his son, pulling a bottle of pink-glittering liquid from his dress coat. Wilbur shook his head, his entire body shivering slightly. “Drink this, kiddo.” 

As Wilbur took the bottle, Tommy turned to Dream. “What do we do about them?” He vaguely gestured to the kingdom surrounding them. 

“Well, with Jameson gone- or at least out of the picture- Wilbur becomes King. He gets to decide what happens,” Tommy and Dream looked to Wilbur as the older boy finished swallowing the healing potion. 

They sat in silence for a moment before Wilbur spoke, “draft a letter to your father for me, let him know that the Soot kingdom forfeits. All rights to land, people, and resources go to the Watson Kingdom.” Wilbur grabbed his father’s shoulder for support as he stood, turning to face the once small crowd that had at least tripled in size. Once the Kingdom realized that the Prince was out and in view, they had to look. He hadn’t been seen since he was eight- not even when Jameson had claimed that he returned home. “My people…” Wilbur paused, taking them in. “From this day forward, there is no longer a Kingdom of Soot. There is no royal blood in my veins, nor my brothers.” Wilbur glanced back at Tommy, who nodded approvingly. “From this day forward, all the people of the Gaeson are unified under one Kingdom- the Watson Kingdom. We shall adhere to their teachings, as they teach kindness above all else. We shall adhere to their laws and just punishments. From this day forward, the only Kingdom is that of the human race.” 

The crowd shouted out questions, pausing as Wilbur raised his hands to call upon specific onlookers. “Your Majesty!” One of the villagers called out as Wilbur pointed at him. 

Wilbur sighed softly, “please, just call me Wilbur. My name is Wilbur Minecraft.” 

“Wilbur, who is that beside you?” The man pointed at Phil. 

“King Jameson may have told you that I am his son, and that is true to a degree. By blood, I am the son of King Jameson. However, Jameson did not raise me, nor did he raise Tommy.” Wilbur draped an arm over Tommy’s shoulder as he said this, “Jameson may be my father by blood, but my true father is this man-” Wilbur smiled at Phil, gesturing for him to move forward. “This man raised me, he taught me how to live rather than to survive in fear. This man is my dad,” Wilbur silently looked at Phil’s wings, asking for permission that came in the form of a small nod and the man’s wings extending. There was barely a pause in his speech, “The Death’s Angel. The last surviving Avian. This is my dad.” 

Pride soared through the Avian’s heart as he looked at his sons and slowly took his place behind them, his wings wrapping around them while a hand went on each of his son’s shoulders. 

“Wilbur!” Another villager shouted, “I thought Avians were extinct?” 

“Yes, Jameson had taught you that.” Wilbur grimaced slightly, “But that is very obviously not true. Have it be known that King Jameson was a liar and a cheater. He was not the great man he wanted you to believe he was…” Tears threatened to fall from Wilbur’s eyes, “He was crude and violent and volatile.” 

The crowd muttered amongst themselves until Techno slowly emerged from the building. “We should go…” The Piglin God muttered softly in Phil’s ear. Phil nodded, leaning down to Wilbur and Tommy to whisper in their ears. 

“If you have any further questions, direct them to King Orion Watson. As for me and my family…” Wilbur regarded his brothers, the tall Piglin who previously couldn’t speak, nor write, nor walk, the small blonde boy who he had once carried through the woods for three days on end, not stopping until they had reached safety, and the Avian who had brought them all together… The Death’s Angel who dealt no more death, nor pain to innocents… Wilbur smiled, a genuine, lip-cracking smile and looked back to the crowd. “We shall return to our farm. Where we will live out our lives in peace.” 

On that day, Wilbur was a King of a different kind. He wouldn’t rule a country, nor would he even rule a small village. But he did rule his own mind, his own body, his own thoughts. He was his own King. 

Chapter Text

Techno? 

The Piglin God jumped, looking around as if someone had called his name. His father and brothers paused, looking at him with worry in their eyes. The forest was twinkling under the night sky, their little cabin barely out of view.

“You alright, mate?” Phil asked, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. Technoblade nodded. 

“Just heard my name in the Chat…” Phil looked at his son concerned. “That hasn’t happened yet.” 

Techno, will you let me in?  

“They’re askin me to let them in…” Technoblade looked at his father, “what does that mean?” 

“Maybe they want in your head?” Tommy asked, stepping towards his brother. 

The voice in Chat giggled slightly, “they’re already in my head, they can see all my memories, hear all my thoughts…” As if confirming, Techno heard a whisper of "Memories... Chat" ring out.

I need your permission to get to the Gaeson…

“She needs my permission to get to Gaeson,” Techno repeated while looking at his father. 

“She?” Phil looked at Techno with hope in his eyes. “Ask for her name?” 

Oh, my sweet Phil… 

Techno shrugged, looking at Phil, “she knows you…” 

“Most of Chat will… It’s composed of dead Gods and dead Avians.” Phil muttered, looking at his son again. 

“Kristen.” Techno said, “I don’t know how I know that, but I do. Her name is-” 

“Let her in.” Phil interrupted, tears gathering in his eyes. “Please, Techno, I need to see her again- even if it’s just for a short while… I need to see my Kristen again…” Techno nodded, muttering words of a different language. When he finished, Phil let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding and began walking again. “Thank you…”

“Dad, who is Kristen?” Wilbur asked softly. 

Phil smiled at his son as he recounted the tale he had written down and changed many times before, “Avian hybrids were a rare breed, even before the trials…” He pulled out a photo as he continued talking. 

The group of five- now accompanied by Prince Clay- approached their cabin, laughter and jokes from Tommy floating through the air. Tommy opened the door, feeling more confident than he had in a week having changed out of his princely attire and into a simple t-shirt and jeans. His laughter died out of his throat as he noticed a woman standing in their living room. She was holding a picture of the four Minecraft boys, her long sleeved dress just barely obscuring Tommy’s view of her hands. He couldn’t tell what colour it was… perhaps purple? Or green? It seemed to shift shades the longer he stared. 

“Who are you?” The woman startled at the voice, turning to look at the boy. They had the same facial shape… the same eyes. Tommy felt like he knew her from before. Before what? He had no idea. 

“Oh, Toms, you’ve grown up so big…” She smiled at the boy and leant down to his height, taking in the sight. Her eyes drifted up to Wilbur… They had the same hair. “Wilbur, you’re so strong…” Tears gathered in Wilbur’s eyes as he recognized her sweet honey voice. “I knew you’d make it here…” 

“Mom?” Wilbur fell into the woman’s arms, holding her tightly. She carefully pulled away from him after a while, brushing his hair out of his face. 

“I’m not going anywhere, my sweet boy… You’re home.” She smiled at him. 

“Kristen…” Phil breathed out. The woman looked up at him, her smile growing. Without hesitating, she flung herself at him. The two of them quickly became a mess of feathers and fabric, seemingly unable to get close enough to each other. “My wife…” 

“My angel,” Kristen whispered back at him, pulling away just long enough to usher all three of her sons into an embrace. “My boys… I’m so glad you’re home.” 

“Pardon me, I don’t mean to interrupt…” As Prince Clay spoke, the five of them broke apart and turned to face him. Wilbur was still holding onto his parents. “What… what’s happening right now?”

“I’m so sorry, Clayton.” Clay pulled his face into a look of confusion and shock. “Where are my manners?” Kristen laughed softly. “My name is Kristen Minecraft. More commonly known as Death.” Phil smiled at his wife and sons, his family finally together again. “I haven’t been able to see any of my family in three millenia.” She glanced at her boys, “aside from passing looks, gifts, and occasional assurances of safety… Wilbur, you will have to tell me about your journey over here… it was what? Nearly nine years ago, now?” Kristen smiled at Tommy, “It would have to be… his birthday is in only a month.” 

Phil smiled at his wife, “that it is. Come, let's head inside. It’s getting chilly out.” 

Techno snorted slightly, getting weird looks from his family. “Uh… Chat says ‘it’s too fucking cold out here’...” Techno explained. 

“We should head in then, start a fire, maybe some tea?” Phil offered, holding the cabin door open for his family to enter. He silently reminded himself to add on to the cabin… he’d need an extra bedroom for Techno, one for Tommy, and of course Wilbur would want the familiarity of the bedroom he had grown up in. Perhaps even a spare bedroom for when Clay came to visit. 

The five Minecrafts settled into their house, telling the stories of their lives to their mother. Philza and Kristen were wrapped together on the couch, Tommy comfortably sitting on the ground beside the fire, Techno sitting on a kitchen chair, Clay sat beside him, and Wilbur curled up on the armchair… he had fallen fast asleep merely minutes after he had finished telling Kristen about his first journey to the cabin. Tommy was amazed by everything his brothers had done for him, not knowing that the reason Techno had become Blood God was just to get him back, unaware that Wilbur had spent days in a forest keeping him safe and fed- despite not being able to find food for himself. 

Some years later, the Watson Kingdom gathered together for a celebration. The celebration was much different than the yearly one they had to honour the day the Kingdom became unified. The Kingdom had prospered beautifully since the two sides had merged, having no wars, nor adversaries, the inventions that blossomed from the Kingdom were marvelous. The celebration was one that would only come once or twice a generation… a wedding.

As the Kingdoms came together, Wilbur had been ushered to the heart of the Watson Kingdom. Where he met Sally, Clay’s sister. She was beyond beautiful, her eyes the colour of emeralds and her hair a gorgeous red. Wilbur’s heart ached when he first saw her. As the years went on, the two grew closer. Often, they would stay at each other’s houses- Wilbur would sleep in a guest room close to the Princess’ room, and Sally would sleep in Wilbur’s room with him. Their friendship quickly turned to a romantic relationship, which turned to the celebration of today. 

Tommy stood beside his brother at the altar, his father and the King standing to face the crowd, and Techno standing by the door to the Great Hall. Sally walked to the front of the altar, meeting Wilbur there and gently taking his hands. Tommy glanced towards his mother, a smile on her face as tears began forming in her eyes. 

“Break a leg…” Tommy whispered to Wilbur. 

“My people,” Wilbur began, “four years ago, I stood in front of you and swore that there was no royal blood in my veins… it seems that was a lie.” A small laughter fell from the crowd. “Today, I come before all of you… humans, Piglins, Gods and Avians alike, and declare my undying love for Sally Watson, the Princess of Gaeson.” 

The crowd roared in approval, continuing the ceremony without any mishaps. By the time the ceremony was finished, the entire Gaeson was in celebration. Every human, Piglin, Avian, animal, and God alike held pride in their hearts for the new order. The Avian’s curse was removed, as was Death’s. After only four years of being married, Sally gave birth to a lovely baby boy- who Tommy was given permission to name Fundy. Fundy was a normal boy… aside from the two, large and elegant wings that poked out from his back from the moment he turned four months old. The idea terrified Wilbur at first, but Phil and Kristen assured him that he would be safe and taken care of.

As the years turned to decades, centuries, and millenia, Avian hybrids slowly erupted through the Gaeson. Small flocks reaching out of hiding and making themselves known to the Kingdom, humans falling in love with Avians and having their own children, and- of course- Phil and Kristen gave life to yet another Minecraft… this time a beautiful girl. The Avians thrived under the Gaeson Kingdom, and- with Death’s Angel and the Blood God as their General’s- it seemed nothing could defeat them. So it seemed, and so it shall be.