Archive of Our Own ^beta

Technoblade was a hunter, a hybrid hunter. To be exact. And he’s a very good one.

Which leads him here, riding through a thick forest weeks away from any civilizations. He’s used to being far out into the woods, tracking down traveling hybrid settlements or the occasional loner. 

This time, however, is a little different compared to his usual jobs.

Over the past few months, there’s been a lot of hunters parties being slaughtered in this forest. No one has come back alive and no one can find the bodies, equipment, or even the horses. All that’s left is splatters of blood and a few long feathers. At least, that’s what the scouts say in their messages, before they too are killed.

There’s only one hybrid that can have a body count like that.

An Elytrian. 

Hybrids with massive wings to push them into the skies and talons sharper than any sword could be. They were dangerous, rare, and a bitch to kill. 

Hell, Techno has never even seen an Elytrian before, much less heard of one being killed, not unless it was a story from hundreds of years ago. They were impossible to find in this day and age. Most thought they’d finally gone extinct after so long. Leaving nothing but terrible bedtime stories in their wake.

Techno likes to think they merely disappeared into the tall mountains, places no human could ever wander to. It simply made no sense that they went extinct, not with how hard it was to catch one.

But now, he had the opportunity to be one of the first to finally kill one. 

That’s not to say that other hunters hadn’t come into the forest, usually large and loud parties that trampled through the paths. They make up a terrible racket with so many people and really, it’s no wonder they’re slaughtered so quickly. The stories say that Elytrians have excellent hearing. The hybrid would’ve heard them from miles away.

Which is part of the reason he’s traveling alone.

Techno wasn’t arrogant. He knew his capabilities and his limits, but he’d been hunting alone for a very long time. The last time he’d taken up a partner for a hunt had been maybe a year ago, when he was tracking down a Warden hybrid. That one had been a bitch to kill. Every single non-lethal hit had just made the creature stronger until Techno was able to slice their head off. But this time would be different. Elytrians didn’t have special abilities like that. Sure, they were fast and could fly, but Techno had caught many fast hybrids before. 

With a huff, Techno pulled his horse—Carl—to a slow trot. He threw his braided pink hair over his shoulder, rubbing at the back of his neck with a tired groan. It had taken him a good week or so to get to the forest, a trip that would’ve taken two if he weren’t alone and actually took breaks. But he figured that once he was near the area, he could rest for a little while and plan his next move.

Admittedly, even though it was filled with death, the forest was beautiful. It was mostly composed of tall aspen trees with orange-yellow leaves and thick underbrush, alive and healthy in ways he hadn’t seen for a long time. Bright wildflowers sprouting along the edges of the path he rode on, illuminating his vision with colors of blues and purples. He was lucky that there were many wide deer trails that weaved throughout these woods, or else he would’ve had to cut through all the growth manually and set back his hunt by days.

Carl nickered, shaking his head as they passed a low branch. Techno patted his neck with a comforting hum, leading his steed off the trail and towards a small cave spotted in the distance.

“Alright, alright, you big lug.” The pinkette huffed, sliding gracefully from his saddle and landing with heavy feet. His hands wrap around the stallion’s reins, tugging the large horse along. “We’ll take a break here, then.” He huffed, though it was more of a fond sound.

Techno stopped at the entrance of the cave, pulling packs down from Carl’s back and tossing them haphazardly into the rocky crevice. They were filled with nothing more than a few rations and a sleeping bag. All of his hunting gear was already strapped to his person. Techno wasn’t one for unnecessary luggage. All he needed was his sword, a crossbow, and a bola. It’s worked before, after all. 

He was never fond of setting up traps. While, yes, hybrids were more animalistic than humans, they weren’t completely stupid. Traps usually just told them that hunters were around and that just made it harder to track them down. It was like going around in circles, a circle that Techno never wanted to deal with.

Carl snorted, pawing at the ground with his hoof. Of course, he too would be impatient after traveling for so long, and Techno made quick work of removing his saddle. This was set down more gently than the other items, propped up in the back of the cave to keep it safe.

Usually, he’s not one to send Carl off freely, always worried about someone stealing his prized horse. But considering they’re in the middle of nowhere and other hunters have long since abandoned these grounds or were killed, Techno doesn’t mind letting his steed wander off for a bit.

“Okay, go wander then.” The pinkette huffed, patting the horse’s back. 

Carl took off without anymore prompting, movements much more fluid and wild without his heavy saddle. Though he still had the bridle on his face, Techno had taken off the reins so the massive creature wouldn’t get caught on anything. 

His horse would be back later, he knew. Carl was never one to travel far away. And even then, all it would take was a sharp whistle to summon his steed again.

With that thought, Techno set up his camp for the night. He needed a good rest if he were going to be taking on an Elytrian, of all things.

The night passed quickly, and Carl had returned before sundown. It was uneventful, but still a little relaxing. The sounds of the forest were nice, and Techno found himself falling asleep fairly early.

The next day was not so great.

Techno had spent most of the morning searching for clues on where the fuck the Elytrian could be. He left Carl to his own devices, not taking the risk of bringing his steed with him. That’s not to say his horse wasn’t useful, but Carl could be extremely loud and Techno needed to be stealthy here. Except, he didn’t need to leave Carl behind because there were zero clues about the Elytrian’s whereabouts.

The forest was practically bare of anything. Sure, he saw the occasional animal and some really old bloodstains that should’ve washed out by now. But there was nothing fresh. Not even a single feather to be found.

He had just about given up when he heard the telltale sound of flapping wings. Wings far too big for any normal bird, yet somehow not big enough.

Techno’s hand found the hilt of his sword, crouching low as he inched towards a small clearing. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t an animal, nor was it the Elytrian. But maybe it’d still be worth something. Maybe he could use it to lure out his prey.

Tense and ready to attack, Techno poked his head out from behind a tree, crouched low enough to where the underbrush could be used as extra cover.

But what he saw had him far more terrified than some mere Elytrian.

Sat in the center of the clearing was a small boy, maybe around the ages of four or five. His hair was a bright, golden blonde, his eyes were a vivid sapphire blue, and his skin was pale. Save for the dusting of red along his face, most likely from sunburn. It was a relatively cute kid, dressed up in a baggy little blue sweater and overalls. He wasn’t wearing shoes, but that wasn’t a problem, considering the boy had little talons for feet.

They reminded him of snowy owl claws, covered in fluffy red feathers that stretched a little above his ankles. The rest of him was… mostly human. A normal child if it weren’t for the claws for fingernails, the feathers covering his ears, and the two wings sprouting from his back.

Now, he wasn’t scared because it was a child—though admittedly he didn’t do well with kids—he was scared because it was a hybrid child.

Techno never hunted young hybrids. If they weren’t adults, he didn’t deal with them. Young hybrids were worth nothing outside of trafficking, and he never liked the idea of selling hybrids. It was a little cruel to simply snuff out a young life and shipping them off to a fate worse than death made his gut crawl. It was part of the reason he only ever killed his targets. Being dead would certainly be better than living without a vital part of oneself or being made into some sort of slave.

Yes, he was a killer. He’s known that for years. Techno has waddled through pools of blood and has slain enough hybrids that he’s earned the moniker: ‘The Blood God’. But he had some morals.

And he also wasn’t an idiot. 

Another reason he stayed away from young hybrids, or hybrids with babies, is because the parents were a hundred times deadlier than before. Techno had seen what happens to hunters who got too close to a hybrid’s child. A lot of the arrogant ones lost their heads. A lucky few who stepped away quickly got off with just losing an arm or a finger.

It was no wonder so many, even the scouts and messengers, had died to the Angel. The hybrid had a son. If anyone else found out about the boy, there was no doubt in Techno’s mind that dozens of hunters would come to the forest. He’d be used to lure in the Elytrian, then sold off to the highest bidder.

That’s if the Angel didn’t kill them all first.

It’d be a massacre either way.

Techno’s hand slid off the hilt of his sword, coming up to cup his mouth as he slumped over just slightly. He wanted to groan, maybe even collapse on the ground.

He’d have to give up this hunt. 

The thought makes him almost burn, but taking on an Elytrian with a kid is almost suicide. A defensive hybrid is always a dangerous one, and Techno wouldn’t make it out of this battle alive. It was best to cut his losses.

Of course, he wouldn’t speak a word of what he found. That would be a disaster waiting to happen. Gods, why the fuck did he have to have morals?

Techno can hear the toddler babble something from where he’s hidden, reaching out his rounded claws to pick up a rather plump chicken. The pinkette can’t really make out what the kid is saying, but he can pick up the little chirps and twitters that the boy lets out. It’s oddly cute, in a hybrid sort of way. He’s never seen one so young, and this will probably be the last time he ever will.

Part of him wants to study the child. Wants to see firsthand how different a hybrid toddler acts compared to a human one. But he’s no researcher, and he hasn’t interacted with many human kids either.

Techno stands from his crouched position, shifting back on one foot. If he leaves now, he can grab his gear and be out of the forest by nightfall. 

The child is still playing with his chicken, cooing and babbling some sort of nonsense. He could use the distraction. Hybrids had incredibly advanced senses, and Techno did not want the toddler to hear him. 

With a single glance back to make sure the kid wasn’t paying attention, Techno backed up slowly. Edging his way out of the clearing entrance. 

He was just about to make it out when his heel landed on a bridle stick. A cliche snap of wood echoing across the forest. Of course, he jinxed himself. Part of him hoped the kid was too distracted, or maybe his hearing wasn’t that good yet. But he knew as soon as the kid looked up that he’d been caught.

Bright blue eyes stared him down through the undergrowth, wide and curious, but not scared.

“Hel’o?” The toddler chirped, tilting his head like the bird he was. The chicken in his arms squawked angrily, flapping its feathers as the poultry practically glared at the pinkette.

Techno felt his lips twist under his mask. If he ran now, there’s no doubt the kid would tell the Angel, and then he’d be hunted down like cattle.

“Hello.” Techno responded gruffly, copying the child’s head tilt.

The small blonde burst into giggles, absolutely delighted by the smallest action. It made Techno’s lips twitch up, just a little. Usually kids were scared of him.

“What are you doing?” He couldn’t help but ask. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to the kid before he left. Maybe he’d learn something new. Or maybe it’d be regular toddler babble.

“Flow’rs!” The child cooed, showing off a messy little flower bracelet around his wrist. The chicken in his lap was very disgruntled by the movement, a hissing noise escaping its beak that the baby completely ignored.

Techno inched forward, desperately entranced in a way he never was before. It’s like watching a little star, bright and so full of life compared to the dull villages he’s passed by. Warm in a way that the people never are, a stark contrast to the cold glances and fearful gasps.

The pinkette stands at the edge of the clearing now, staring as the child grins happily. He waves his chubby little hand, claws just barely sharp enough to cause a minor scratch. His fingers are a little stained from a few crushed flowers, the color bleeding onto the chicken’s feathers as well. Said chicken ruffles up, still glaring as Techno sits down criss-cross in the shaded area. Like a barrier into a life that he doesn’t dark cross.

“Do you like flowers?” He questions, leaning forward ever so slightly.

“Yep!” The toddler giggles, “I’sh pretty! Wilby taug’t me how!”

“Wilby?”

“Mmhmm!” The babe nods excitedly, stumbling onto his feet. The chicken that was once on his lap squawks indignantly, flapping its wings as it tumbles to the ground. It huffs, but wanders a bit away while the child waddles forward. Techno is practically frozen stiff when tiny hands land on his knees, eyes wide as the child bounces up and down. “My name’s T’mmy!”

“Oh- uh, you can call me Techno.” The pinkette sputters, his hands twitching at his side. Part of him wants to play with the golden blonde hair, maybe even poke the kid—Tommy—in the cheek just to hear the little giggles.

“Tec’no!” Tommy cheers brightly, throwing his hands up and losing his balance in the process. 

Techno is quick to reach up and stabilize the boy, freezing when he realized he actually touched him. What if his father smelt the hunter on his son? Would he track Techno down, no matter what? At this point, it’s already happened. There’s no going back now, he supposes.

“It’s Techno. Techno.”

“Tec’no!”

“Techno.”

“Tech!”

“Yes, Tech-no.” 

“Techie!” Tommy giggles loudly and if he weren’t a child, Techno would’ve said it was almost maniacal.

“No.” Techno sputtered, “No, no, no! It’s Techno. Techno.”

“Techie!” Tommy squeals, completely ignoring the pinkette’s desperate pleas. 

The toddler leans forward, stained fingers reaching under his boar mask and patting the hunter’s face, leaving behind prints of color. Techno can’t really bring himself to care. It’s oddly endearing, rather than annoying.

“You’re not going to stop saying that, are you?” The pinkette sighs, already resigned to the nickname. It’s not the worst thing he’s ever been called, but it does sound a bit silly. Well, not a bit. It was definitely silly.

“Techie!” The toddler cheers, as though he knew he just won the argument. Techno only slumps, releasing the kid when he pulls back to toddle on his own feet. 

Tommy moves into his old spot, sitting down between bright blue wildflowers and bathed in sun rays while the bees flutter about his tiny form. He looks like he belongs to nature, a little sprite that matches the yellow-orange of the woods.

They’re still separated in the light. The brightness that is Tommy compared to the darkness that is Techno. It’s almost poetic, in a way, and for the life of him, he can’t understand why he’s so enamoured with this kid. It’s like something in him is beyond happy to be around the toddler, similar to a brother watching their sibling or something to that effect. And it just doesn’t make any sense.

Part of him thinks it’s some kind of trick, but logically, he knows it’s not. Only siren hybrids have this sort of power, and he’s far, far from the sea.

“Techie!” Tommy trills from his spot in the plants, tiny wings fluttering and ear feathers fluffing up. The child pats his hand down on the grass, the brightest grin on his face. “Come!”

The hunter bites his lip. He shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t. It was best to leave soon before the boy’s parent shows up and slices his head from his shoulders.

Techno steels his heart, preparing for the sadness that’ll no doubt be expressed on the boy’s face. A look that will surely pierce his heart.

“I can’t.” He tries to say as gently as possible. “I have to go now.”

Immediately Tommy’s face crumples into disappointment, bottom lip jutting out into a heartbroken pout. His little wings and ear feathers droop, hands falling into his lap as he slumps. 

Techno feels panic building in his chest as sapphire blue eyes gloss over with tears, a little: “Oh…” whispered from the boy’s lips.

“But I can come back tomorrow!” The pinkette swiftly adds in, eyes wide behind his mask.

He almost punches himself in the face for speaking up, knowing full well it’d be suicide to come back. He just… panicked. Techno didn’t enjoy seeing the sad look on the babe’s face, the expression literally digging through his chest. 

He’s screwed himself, Techno knows. But he can’t find it in himself to care when Tommy’s face instantly brightens.

“Really?!” The blonde squeals excitedly, little hands clenched into fists as he shakes them up and down, bouncing in place while still seated.

“I-” Techno sighs. “Yeah, kid. I’ll meet you tomorrow.”

“Okay!” Tommy agrees easily. “See you!”

“See you…”

The hunter pushes himself up slowly, groaning ever so slightly at the crick in his back. For Prime’s sake, he wasn’t even old and his back was already sore from slumping for too long. He should probably look into that.

Techno waves goodbye, Tommy eagerly copying the action, and saunters back into the forest. Fully planning on going back to his camp and contemplating all of his life choices that lead to this exact moment.

However, it isn’t until he’s a few feet away that he hears the loud, screeching call from the skies as a shadow blots out the sun.

Techno ducks behind a bush instantly, heart racing when the Elytrian makes their presence known. The pinkette turns back to the little clearing he just left, eyes focused on the new figure that descends from the sky.

He can make out the Angel fairly clearly from his place in the undergrowth, watching with wide eyes as pitch black wings fold against a blonde man’s back. 

The Angel of Death doesn’t look that threatening, wearing a forest green kimono, black stirrup pants, and the ugliest white and green bucket hat Techno has ever seen. He’s short too, maybe around 5’9 or a little taller. He doesn’t look like a mass murderer at all. At least, not until you get to his hybrid features.

The Elytrian has the same taloned feet as Tommy, covered in thick black feathers that reach his ankles and looking like snowy owl feet. However, his talons were much larger and deadlier, sharp enough to easily cut through skin and thicker than Techno’s fingers. They looked strong enough to defend against an iron sword. The claws on his hands were sharp too, no doubt that they’d cut through skin like a hot knife through butter.

But even with the built in weapons, the Angel still had a sword strapped to his hip. The metal was clearly polished to perfection.

“There you are, mate!” The older hybrid croons, bending down to pick up the toddler. Tommy giggles as he’s lifted into his father’s arms, chirping back brightly. “I was looking all over for you, you know not to wander this far!”

“I had He’a!” Tommy pouts, pointing at the chicken that seems to puff out their chest in pride.

“Hetta can’t protect you, Tommy. We’ve been over this.” The Angel sighs fondly, tucking the toddler against his hip as the baby blonde easily leans on his shoulder. “Let’s get you home, mate. It’s time for dinner, anyhow.”

Tommy cheers and then the duo, along with their chicken, are gone.

Techno takes that moment to make his own retreat.

“Tommy, what are you doing?” Techno asks on the next day, once again sitting in the shade of the trees outside of the little clearing. Still keeping up that barrier of light that he knows he shouldn’t cross.

“Maki’g you flow’rs!” The toddler grins, chubby little fingers weaving the stems of the plants together. He’s obviously not going to be well coordinated at his age, so it appears lopsided and messy, but it’s the thought of the gift that’s cute.

After a few minutes of Tommy being solely concentrated on his little flower bracelet, he toddles over to Techno. Hetta the chicken is right by his side, glaring at the pinkette with all the intensity that her little body can muster.

“Here!” The kid chirps, wrapping his messy creation around the hunter’s wrist after pulling the limb up from Techno’s lap with a struggle.

Tommy throws his little hands outwards, cheering when the bracelet stays.

“Tada!” He crows and Techno smiles fondly.

“It’s very pretty, thank you.” The pinkette compliments, chuckling when Tommy preens in excitement. His little wings ruffle proudly.

“How about you bring some flowers over here, and teach me how to make a bracelet?”

The baby practically puffs up in excitement, ear feathers standing on end and Techno swears his eyes fill with stars.

“Okay!”

“Wh’ do you keep you’ ha’r long?” Tommy asks the third time they meet, chubby little fingers gently stroking the long pink locks.

Techno has still not entered the clearing. Instead, Tommy had stumbled into the shade with him, sitting himself on the hunter’s lap with the confidence that only a naïve child could have.

He’s playing with the strands of hair that spilled over the pinkette’s shoulders, caressing it in his fingers, rubbing it across his face, and even attempting to put it in his mouth once before Techno had stopped him. That was unsanitary for both of them. After all, it’d been days since the hunter last washed his hair. Who knew what was in it. And he didn’t know what Tommy had put in his mouth before meeting him. Techno had seen him spit out a beetle yesterday.

“I just like it that way.” He shrugs, jostling the toddler in his lap ever so slightly.

“I’sh pretty.” Tommy mumbles sleepily, curling into the pinkette’s chest with a yawn.

Techno would be lying if he said that it didn’t make his heart soar.

He ignores the way Hetta continues to glare at him until he finally wakes Tommy up and leaves for the day.

On the fourth day of their meetings, Techno offers to teach Tommy how to braid his hair. To say the toddler was ecstatic would be a vast understatement.

Techno runs him through the motions, guiding his little fingers through his hair as they braid the pink strands together. It’s not perfect, but it isn’t terribly lumpy either. A good first attempt with help.

Tommy’s second try without help wasn’t… the best, he’ll admit. It was lumpy with a few strands out of place and the pattern was switched up more than once. Admittedly, it made Techno laugh, seeing the pout on Tommy’s face when he realized it wasn’t the same.

But after the betrayed look he was given, the hunter walked him through it again until the toddler could make a braid that wasn’t terrible.

“You almost done back there?” Techno hummed, twirling a blue flower between his fingers.

“No!” Tommy angrily screeched, slapping his tiny hand on the pinkette’s back. “S’op as’ing!”

Techno only laughed, ignoring the angry twitters the toddler let out at the motion.

The fifth day is when Techno takes off his mask.

He knows that Tommy is aware that Techno has a human face under the boar skull, but the hunter was not expecting the awed expression on the toddler. His face wasn’t anything pretty or particularly handsome, it was just a face. Sure, he had quite a few scars from previous hunts. Like the big one across the bridge of his nose, the small slash on the side of his chin, and the slice on his right cheek.

Tommy runs his tiny fingers across all of them, a worried little frown on his face as he traces the mark.

“They don’t hurt, it’s okay.” Techno tries to soothe, not liking the way Tommy’s lower lip wobbles. The babe doesn’t seem to believe him, but at least he’s not on the verge of tears anymore.

“W’ere..?” The blonde chirps softly, pressing against the scar on the pinkette’s cheek.

Now, Techno should tell him that he’s actually a hunter. A man who’s killed countless hybrids and sold off their parts for coin. But he’s long passed the point of being a good person and if it means that Tommy won’t look at him in fear, then he’ll take the secret to his grave.

“They’re from a few fights I got into in the past.” Techno hums, running a hand through the child’s golden curls.

Hetta stares at him, almost judgementally, but the pinkette ignores the plump chicken. He knows he’s not a good person.

It’s the sixth day, and Techno knows he has to leave.

He hasn’t gone to see Tommy yet. It was still too early in the day, but while he’s cleaning up his camp, the thought hits him like a hammer. He’s been up in these woods for far too long and he can’t keep playing with some hybrid child forever. He has to go, especially before winter hits.

It hurts a lot more than he thought it would, even if he is just thinking about it for now. He’d gotten attached to the toddler. He’s actually been looking forward to seeing the kid every day.

But he has to go. He has to go. He knows this. Their little friendship would always be temporary, and one day someone else might come up the valley and kill the kid.

Just the thought of Tommy dying makes Techno want to cry.

But he’s realistic. 

He needs to go home and take proper care of himself and Carl. His horse has been content to graze throughout the forest, but he desperately needs a good brushing and actual food.

Techno needs actual food too. He doesn’t have enough rations to last another week.

The hunter is sitting on a flat rock, head in his hands as he debates on when to leave. Part of him just wants to take the kid with him, but that’s selfish and cruel. Tommy would be much safer with his father than he would be with Techno. He would be in so much more danger if Techno stole him away, and he certainly wouldn’t want Tommy to hate him.

He already knows what his decision will be, as much as he hates it.

Techno will tell Tommy today that he has to leave. Even if he cries, the pinkette can’t give in again. This whole thing is probably one of the most dangerous things he’s ever done, and he needs to end it.

It’ll be fine. He can do this.

When Techno’s camp is all packed up and leaned up against the side of the cave, he hears hooves stomping through the forest. They’re far too light to be Carl’s and from where he stands, he can see a blur of white and neon green cross his vision.

He’s on edge instantly, snatching his sword from where he placed it against a tall rock and a sharp whistle escaping from between his teeth.

Carl bursts from the undergrowth, rearing his head up and stomping his hooves as Techno swings onto his back without a saddle.

There’s another hunter in the woods, and Tommy is most likely out in his little clearing by now.

They’re galloping through the deer trails, kicking up small rocks and dirt. Carl isn’t breathing heavily. He’s a very well-bred horse, but he lets out a few snorts of agitation when Techno forces him to swerve to the side. He can’t see the other hunter, but he doesn’t particularly care. He just needs to get to Tommy.

And he does.

But when he reaches the clearing, Tommy is not the only one there.

Dream stands over the baby hybrid, sword poised right between teary blue eyes as a wound across his nose bleeds sluggish red. Tommy is curled up on the ground, shaking in fear as he wraps his little arms around Hetta’s body. The chicken is practically screeching bloody murder, hissing and flapping her wings aggressively.

Dream clearly doesn’t care, but then again, the hunter had always been like that.

Techno had only worked with the man a few times, particularly in the Warden hybrid incident, and he knew for a fact that Dream was a ruthless character. He has very little morals. Techno has seen him sell living hybrids, torture them, use them as bait, the whole nine. Everything is on the table for Dream, and he won’t allow Tommy to be taken by the man.

“Dream.” Techno growls, sliding from Carl’s back as his sword hangs from his dominant hand. “Didn’t know you were planning on coming this way.”

“Techno,” Dream dips his head in greeting, his smiley face mask still intently staring Tommy down while the child sobs quietly. “I thought you were dead after being gone for so long.”

“Well, I’m clearly not.” The pinkette huffs, eyes narrow behind his boar mask. “So why don’t you leave the kid to me? He was my hunt first.”

Tommy makes a scared little chirp, and it takes everything in Techno not to twitch at the fear in his tone. It was fine, he’ll be getting the kid out of danger soon.

“Really?” Dream chuckles darkly. “But you never hunt kids. Not with your precious morals.”

Techno growls, low in his throat as his grip tightens around the hilt of his sword. “Things change.”

“Oh? So then you won’t mind if I-” The green-clad hunter lifted his sword high into the air, angled to the side and just about to-

Techno launched himself at Dream before the other hunter could bring the sword down, metal clashing against metal and sparks flying. Tommy screeched in the background, the sound so loud it almost burst his eardrums, but he couldn’t focus on it for longer than a second as Dream jumped back and swung. Their swords clashed again when Techno blocked, using his momentum to push the green-clad man backwards and away from the crying hybrid.

Now, Techno has spared with Dream before, he knows how the other hunter fights and where his weaknesses are. But the same could be said for Dream. He knows what will trip the pinkette up and has no problems fighting dirty. 

They go back and forth. Swinging, blocking, ducking, jabbing, a constant dance that will only leave one alive. 

Techno swings downward, metal meeting metal once again as Dream’s knees buckle under the pinkette’s weight. He can’t see anything behind the other’s mask, but he knows that Dream can see his burning red eyes through the skull he adorns. 

Dream tips back, and if Techno were someone inexperienced, he would’ve lost balance. But he doesn’t and when the other hunter swirls away, he swings his sword upwards.

There’s a grunt of pain, and Techno notes with vindictive satisfaction that Dream’s bicep to his shoulder has been sliced through. Hot blood soaks his neon green hoodie, dripping down his arm as it hangs limply. He might’ve cut something important there.

He wonders if Dream had been going easy on him. Techno knows the man is a better fighter than this. Did he think the pinkette wasn’t being serious? Techno had been planning to kill him the moment he saw the blood on Tommy’s face. Surely Dream would’ve noticed how pissed off he was.

“So you’ve gone soft for a hybrid, have you?” Dream grunts, voice full of pain.

“Like I said, things change.” Techno merely grunts, eyes focused solely on the hunter in front of him. Even when he can hear Tommy’s whimpers as sniffles not too far off.

“I suppose so.”

In a flash, Dream drops his sword, a dagger slipping down from under his hoodie sleeve and into his hand. Techno stiffens, eyes widening as the other hunter turns to the pinkette’s left and throws.

Techno is dropping his sword and diving in front of the blade before he can think otherwise, hissing when the dagger imbeds in his shoulder and collapsing on his side in front of a screaming Tommy. His skull mask falls from his face at the impact with the ground, bouncing to his left. The little hybrid behind him is quick to wrap his tiny fingers around Techno’s shirt sleeve, chirping in terror.

Dirty tricks, of course.

Dream throws his head back and laughs, reaching down to pick up his sword again. He’s ignoring the way his other arm still bleeds, drops of blood trailing behind him as the other hunter steps forward.

“Never thought I’d see the day when the Blood God goes down.” Dream taunts, raising his sword until it’s leveled against Techno’s head. Right between his eyes, mimicking the position the green hunter had Tommy in just minutes before. “You’ll die here, and I’ll take that child and kill the Elytrian.”

“You won’t make it out of this forest alive.” Techno snarls, propping himself up on his elbow even as Dream’s sword follows him.

“Oh?” The other hunter chuckles. “Are you going to kill me, then?”

“No,” The pinkette shrugs. “He is.”

A shadow falls over them all and just as Dream spins around, Techno whirls to face Tommy, tucking the young hybrid’s face into his chest as the telltale sound of a sword through flesh echoes in the air. 

There’s a small thud, followed by a large one, and Techno doesn’t dare look back. Nor does he allow Tommy to pull away and see.

Footsteps crunch against the dead leaves and grass, rounding the two huddled together before stopping in front of Techno. The pinkette is quick to meet the eyes of the Angel, fighting down the urge to flinch at the intensity of the icy blue stare. There’s blood spattered across his face, dripping down the side of his cheek freely.

“So you’re the Blood God.” The Elytrian hummed, gaze momentarily falling to Tommy, who had not made a single complaint in Techno’s arms.

“Yes.” The hunter agreed, finding no point in hiding the obvious.

“You saved my son.” He said curiously, bending down to finally take the small blonde into his arms. Tommy gratefully snuggled into his father’s chest, leaving Hetta behind in Techno lap. For once, the bird wasn’t glowering at him.

“I- Yes.”

“You’ve been meeting my son here as well, haven’t you?” This time, the Angel’s eyes narrow. As though angered by his own rhetorical question. “Why?”

“I don’t- I don’t know.” Techno answers honestly with a grimace. He’s not sure if he’ll ever know the reason he was drawn to Tommy. He doesn’t really care to find out.

“And what do you plan to do now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you still plan on killing more hybrids?” The Angel questions. Wings mantled as though ready to strike Techno down if he says the wrong thing. He wouldn’t blame him. If he were in the Elytrian’s shoes, he would prepare to do the same.

“No, I don’t.” Techno slumps ever so slightly. How could he go on to kill more hybrids now? It would be hypocritical of him, would it? To adore one while slaughtering the others. He couldn’t do that.

Tommy shuffles in his father’s arms, reaching up to whisper something in the older hybrid’s ear. The Angel had a contemplative twist to his face, tilting his head to the side as he thought over whatever Tommy told him. There was a sigh, and then—

“Why not come live with us?” The Angel hums and Tommy nods enthusiastically at him.

“What?” The pinkette can’t help but blink in shock, mouth very nearly hanging open. It would have, if he were anyone else. “But I’ve killed hundreds of hybrids.”

“And I’ve killed many more humans.” The Angel shrugs.

“That’s not the same.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No.” Techno hisses. “I should atone for what I’ve done.”

“Then do so here.” He replies as though it’s that simple, as though Techno could somehow make things right by living in a forest weeks away from any civilization.

“How would I do that?” The pinkette grunts, wincing when his shoulder wound is aggravated. An action that the Elytrian catches easily.

“Simple. Protect us from other hunters. We’re not the only hybrids that live here, mate.” The Angel hums and Techno is quickly reminded of the first day he met Tommy, when he had talked about someone named ‘Wilby’.

“I—”

“Techie!” Tommy cuts in, tear and blood stained cheeks puffed up and indignant.

“Just say yes, mate. He’s going to cry.”

“I… okay.” Techno sighs, resigned. 

Tommy cheers, so bright even after all that has happened, and the Angel reaches out a hand that Techno takes with only a little hesitation. All of them ignore Hetta’s offended squawk when she’s pushed off the ex-hunter’s lap.

“My name is Phil.” The Ang—Phil—offers with a smile.

“Technoblade.” The pinkette hisses as he’s pulled up, grimacing at the stinging pain in his shoulder.

“Let’s go get that shoulder check out then, shall we?”

“Okay.”