Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was never a good sign if the Craft house went silent.

Shrilling screams and bounding laughter were constantly bouncing off the walls of the house. And it was comforting, in its own weird unique way. Because it was the Craft’s house attribute, completely and utterly theirs.

So when Wilbur suddenly realizes he’s no longer subconsciously blocking out a screaming child he finally looks up from his laptop. He blinks a few times at the poster covered wall before turning to his door.

Silence.

He waits a few more seconds before getting up and checking that Tommy is at least still alive. The hallway is filled with what feels like thousands of toys and getting past them all is like stepping through a minefield.

After multiple legos accompanied by muttered curses, Wilbur made it to the outside of Tommy’s door.

“Tommy?” He knocked lightly on the door, “You ok?”

Silence.

“Toms?”

Still silent. Wilbur creaked the door open and peaked his head into the bedroom. Wilbur didn’t think the toy situation could get worse but it’s been so long since he’s seen Tommy’s carpet that he forgot the color of it. But despite the abundance of toys in the room, there was still a lack of children. He shut the door and walked towards Techno’s room.

Childish giggles creeped from underneath the door as he approached. Wilbur brought one fist up before slamming it on the door.

“Techno?”

“What?”

“Are you giggling to yourself?”

“….no.” Wilbur opened the door to his brother's room to come face to face with a flat look.

“Don’t sound so confident there.”

“What do you want Wil?”

Techno turned and plopped down on his bed and closed his eyes. “I’m looking for the child.”

“Haven’t seen him.”

“Mhm.. so why is there a candy cane in your hair?”

Silence.

Wilbur looked at Techno. Techno looked at Wilbur. Wilbur looked at the candy cane, glistening in the faint light coming from Techno’s lamp. Strands of pink hair wrapped around the red stripes.

Distracted by the sight, Wilbur didn’t see his own candy cane making its way to his hair.

————

“So, Tommy planned this all on his own?”

“He was very convincing”

“Tech, it was a single chocolate chip cookie..”

“Don’t talk about chocolate chip cookies like that Phil.”

“Wilbur is crying”

“He’ll be fine”

Chapter Text

Wilbur was always a bit…odd, to say the least.

Not that Tommy minded, Wilbur was his brother and he loved him no matter what strange quirks he might have. Other people weren't so unbothered by it though. Which was repeatedly confusing to Tommy because why would you seek someone out to say something mean? He was especially protective of his brother because of it. Even with Wilbur being older, the 6-year-old would spit blazing fire to anyone that dared say anything about his brother.

So the moment Tommy saw Wilbur’s eyes well up with tears while he was driving, he started thinking of ways to hide a body. Tommy knew that Wilbur didn’t like people mentioning when he cried or when he was upset in general, but the atmosphere in the car was too much for the 6-year-old to handle. So he did what any other self-respecting child would do.

“Can we get ice cream?”

“Tommy, it's freezing outside and you want to get ice cream?”

The real answer would be no. Tommy hated ice cream during the winter, he hated being cold in the first place so why would he eat something that would make him colder? But Wilbur loved ice cream. Wilbur loved ice cream, any time of the year.

“Yes! Ice cream!”

Wilbur sighed before turning on his turn signal, while Tommy celebrated silently to himself. He pulled into the family's favorite ice cream parlor and sat for a moment in the driver's seat. Tommy could see him trying to discreetly rub away the tears in his eyes before turning the car off and getting out. He opened Tommy's side of the door and unbuckled him before setting him down.

Tommy raced towards the door of the shop, hoping that if Wilbur got his ice cream now he would stop being sad.

“Tommy, wait, please!” Normally Tommy would ignore whoever was giving him directions but he was afraid of upsetting his brother further. Tommy waited for Wilbur to walk up and then he grabbed his hand tightly. It was more of Wilbur holding his entire arm in his palm but it's the thought that counts. Wilbur ordered their regulars and then sat in their favorite booth. He slumped in the seat with the bowl of ice cream in front of him.

Plain vanilla.

They sat in silence eating ice cream for a new record of 5 seconds before Tommy spoke up.

“Feeling better?”

Wilbur looked confused by the question.

“You were crying.”

He cringed at that before setting his spoon down. “Yeah, Toms I was.”

“Why?’

“You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Then why are you worrying about it?”

Wilbur stared. Tommy stared right back.

Wilbur let out his famous dramatic sigh. “Because it bothered me.”

“What did?”

“People at school.”

Tommy scrunched his nose at that. “But you said that I shouldn't be bothered by people at school because they are in-comp-pew-tent and would never get far.” Wilbur laughed at that and it made Tommy smile. He loved making Wilbur laugh. That meant he was funny!

“Yeah, bud I did say that.” Wilbur looked at his ice cream, then looked back up at the child, who has yet to touch his ice cream. “So you didn’t actually want ice cream hm?”

Tommy looked down at his own bowl of half-melted strawberry ice cream and then smiled brightly at his brother. “Nope! But you happy now?”

Wilbur smiled gently at Tommy.

“Of course I am, I’m with you.”

Chapter Text

“FUCK!”

“Tom-”

“PHIL IM GOING TO FUCKING DIE. STOP PATRONIZING ME AND HELP-”

“Tommy just stand up straight.”

“IT'S NOT THAT EASY!” The second Tommy finished his sentence, he went tumbling back onto the ice making Wilbur bend over with laughter and Phil covered his mouth to hide his own. Techno returns from his fifth round of the rink and slides to a stop right in front of Tommy.

“HELP ME YOU DICKHEAD!”

Techno stared at Tommy for a moment longer before skating towards Phil, causing a longer string of curses from the teen sprawled out like a fawn. Tommy tries to stand again and fails yet again. He eventually gives up and starts crawling toward the handrails. Wilbur glided over to Tommy, who stopped halfway through his journey because he thought his brother would help but instead grabbed his arm and started dragging him around like a sack of potatoes. Tommy screams as Wilbur takes him around the rink by his arm while Wilbur carries a devilish grin.

“PHILLLLLLL-”

“Oh for fucks sake.”

—

“No more ice skating.”

“But Phillll.”

“Oh thank god.”

“Quiet child, you were the one that wanted to go in the first place.”

“Yeah, I wanted to go ICE SKATING NOT GET DRAGGED AROUND BY A PRICK-”

Wilbur and Tommy continue bickering in the back of the car. Techno cranks the audio on the car to tune them out.

Chapter Text

“How long has he been out there?”

“Maybe 2 hours or so.”

“Isn’t he cold..?”

As soon as Techno walked in from school that afternoon, he had retreated to the backyard. Wilbur knew that highschool was hard for his brother and tried to give him space regularly. However, this week Techno had been peculiarly evasive of everyone in the house. Even with Phil, which is very unusual. When no one else could get Techno to talk, Phil was always there to catch him when he finally broke down.

Today wasn’t that day. Phil had given him an hour before meeting him outside. Wilbur watched them through the window as Phil sat next to Techno and talked softly to him.

But Techno didn’t speak. Didn’t even acknowledge him. He just continued to rock himself on his favorite swing, staring out at the drifting snow. Phil had given up after about 20 minutes. Getting up from the swing and giving Wilbur a sad look as he shut the door.

Wilbur hasn’t left the window.

Tommy had tried to rile him by taunting him and saying stupid shit he knew would get Wilbut going. But he had given up after calling him a ‘wannabe hipster’ for the third time with no reaction. To be honest, Wilbur didn’t even register what Tommy had been saying. He was lost in his thoughts and ideas on what he could do to make Techno feel better. He had always relied on Phil as a last resort when all else failed. And when that didn’t work… Well, he didn’t have a plan for that.

Finally he decided just to wing it and sit outside with Techno until he spoke. He made his way to the swing and sat down next to his brother. They sat together for a while. Watching the snow fall gently down on the ground, covering the grass in a blanket.

Wilbur knew about Technos fascination with snow. He had always been a hot natured person, so being able to not sweat constantly was very attractive to Techno.

Especially with his sensory issues.

Phil had found out very early that Techno had certain textures and feelings that he absolutely refused to come into contact with. Being damp was one of them. So sweating was hell for Techno. All that to say that Techno adored cold weather and adored snow even more. Every winter he could be found outside watching the snowflakes fall from the sky.

Wilbur also knows that Techno won’t speak unless he wants to. Unfortunately for Techno, Wilbur won’t leave someone alone if he wants their attention. They sat in silence for another 15 minutes before Techno looked over at Wilbur.

“What, Wilbur.”

“Don’t you what Wilbur me. I’m not the one who has been ominously staring out in the backyard like a dark lord.”

Techno deadpanned and punched Wilbur in the arm.

“Ow! What the hell?”

Before Wilbur could punch him back, Techno leaned his head on his shoulder and completely relaxed his posture. Wilbur leaned back in the swing and twirled his fingers through the pink strands that were draped over his chest. They watched the snow for a little longer, snowflake after snowflake landed softly on the ground. Turning the green white.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you.”

Chapter Text

Tommy hated Christmas time. Not for any particular reason, just that it was cold and it was way too busy everywhere so that meant he had to work more. Not that he could complain too much, more work meant better pay checks. It’s not like he had anyone waiting for him at home anyway.

As sad as it sounds. Tommy didn’t mind too much. At least he tried not to let it bother him. He refused to admit that he stays up late at night wallowing in his empty apartment with just his heartbeat to listen to.

So he drowned himself with work and more and more hours so he could avoid his apartment as much as possible. Work wasn’t terrible either. The warm aroma of coffee and quiet murmur of people are more comforting than anything else to him. Even with it being busier than normal, the café was still a private corner in the city that Tommy could hide away in.

He was wiping down the front counter when the bell to the front door jingled. He threw the cloth into the sink before turning sharply towards the register.

“Hello, what can I get you today?”

“What has the most amount of caffeine?”

Tommy stared at the man for a second. The man tried to stare back but it was kinda hard to tell with his curly hair dropping into his eyes.

“Uh an espresso would probably be your best bet.”

“Great! Let me get four of those.”

“Four espressos..? Why not just get a quadruple shot of espresso.”

“Yeah sure whatever is easier.”

“Ok, name?”

“Wilbur.”

Tommy rang up the order with a growing confused look on his face. It certainly isn’t the weirdest order he has made, he was just concerned that this man wanted a quadruple shot of espresso at 8 o’clock at night.

He gets paid either way.

After finishing the drink that he thinks should be called ‘I will not be sleeping tonight’ he calls out the emo hipster wannabe. Wilbur was slumped over in the corner booth, not even twitching at the sound of his name. Tommy sighs and walks over to the brunette, who was still snoring.

“Wilbur.”

Nothing.

“Hey, prick.”

“Wh-“

“Good morning.”

“Did you just call me a pr-“

“Irrelevant. Here’s your coffee .”

Wilbur took the drink quickly and downed about half of it before looking at Tommy again.

“Good god man. Rough day?”

Wilbur laughed at that. Not a happy laugh though, more of a ‘i’m about to give up’ laugh. Tommy made a face and sat down across from him. It’s not like many people were walking in at that moment.

“So that was the reason you wanted death in a cup.”

“Yeah I guess so. Trying to get somewhere as a musician is hard.”

Tommy perked up at that.

“You’re a musician?”

“I like to think I am. Not like anyone actually knows who I am.”

“Why don’t you sing here?”

Wilbur shot his head up to Tommy.

“Here?”

Tommy gestures to the stage in the back of the café.

“Every Friday and Saturday. We don’t get much love music here. You could get some recognition?”

Wilbur sat staring at his hands for a moment. Twirling them between each other.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah I think that would be great.”

Tommy smiled.

————

That Friday, hundreds of people learned the name Wilbur Soot.

Chapter Text

One of the first things Tommy’s parents taught him was to never wander into the forest at night.

They never quite explained why. It was a quick mention and then they went back to work, ignoring the toddler. So Tommy never went into the woods at night. Simple as that, never an argument about it. Besides Tommy had plenty of other things to keep him entertained, like sliding down the stairs on a pillow.

That was until he heard singing.

It started off very quiet, almost a whisper in the air that could easily be ignored. But over time it grew and grew until it was something he couldn’t get out of his head. It was echo-y and sometimes it was the only thing that Tommy could hear. It was a ghostly song, full of agony and longing. At times it felt like the melancholy notes were gnawing away at his brain.

So he caved.

After his mother hastily put him to bed, giving him a quick ‘good night’. He was able to wait for about 10 minutes before he couldn’t take the hollow singing ringing in his ear.

It was cold outside. The first snow of the season, painting the grass a gleaming white. The moon was high in the sky, clouds ghosting over it while the light reflected glitter in the snow.

No matter how cold Tommy was, he couldn’t get himself to stop and turn around. It felt as if he was being pulled by an imaginary string. Step after step, his feet were turning bruising blue and his hands were vibrating.

The further he went the darker the forest seemed to be, the tree limbs were heavy with snow fall and moonlight broke through small gaps. Darkness surrounded every inch of the small boy, an oppressive weight on his shoulders. That slowly crept along his body until his lungs were stuttering and his heart felt like it was pulsing honey through his veins.

Still he walked, but no longer by his own desire. He came upon a clearing. A break in the dark forest where light was allowed to grow and Tommy could finally see his hands again. He looked around with growing fear. Tommy couldn’t remember how he got here, he was cold, he was scared.

“Oh you are such a tiny thing aren’t you?” The voice came from in front of him. The man looked normal enough, with frizzy brown hair that obscured dark eyes. He towered over the young child, with a billowing cloak and curled smile over too long of teeth. Tommy took a staggering step back, tripping over his purple feet and falling into the snow.

“Do not be afraid.” The man was closer now. Bent over staring deep into the child’s eyes. With him closer, Tommy could see things that were slightly off. His eyes were a bit too deep, the whites of his eyes nonexistent. Teeth too jagged to be human but not animalist enough. His movement was too jerky, like he wasn’t sure how to work his own body.

The man titled his head, similar to an owl. Then he smiled, his lips curled over his teeth like he was mocking Tommy.

“How adorable. I believe the others would love you…Would you like to come home with me, little one?”

Suddenly, the man wasn’t so scary. His eyes shone with love, they were a beautiful brown. His smile was soft and kind. He looked warm, warmer than the piercing snow that was eating away at him. Tommy reached his hands towards the man.

He smiled.

“Let’s get you warmed up. My name is Wilbur, what is your name?”

“Tommy…” Tommy snuggled closer into Wilbur’s jacket, the warmth seeped into his cheeks.

“Tommy.” It sounded like honey from his tongue. “What a beautiful name.”

Wilbur began to sing. Tommy recognized the voice of the one he had been hearing. However this time, the song was happy.

Content.

Chapter Text

Tommy loved the snow.

It felt like cotton underneath his paws as he flew through the darkening forest. Snowflakes drifted from the sky, dusting his honey fur with ice. The winter air was freezing, leaving icicles down his throat with every breath he took. He left a flurry of snow behind his wake. Like a cloud of smoke, it surrounded his senses. But it did nothing to deter him. Tommy was in his element. He was made for the forest.

An eruption of birds came from behind him. Spreading out into the sky, warning of danger.

They were getting closer.

The forest whispered to him. A breeze through the leaves. A cricket in the underbrush. A snap of a twig. Tommy took a sharp right, narrowly avoiding a soaring mass of fur with bared teeth and sharpened claws. His ears were straining for any more sounds that would give him clues. His vision was slightly blurred due to his impressive speed and frantic heartbeat. He looked around for a tree to climb or a big enough burrow to hide in.

They’re growing nearer.

His ears flicked at the steady beat of footsteps behind him. He couldn’t out run them forever. They were bigger, older, stronger, faster. He had to outsmart them to get away.

In a suddenly panicked state, Tommy came up with an awful plan. An awful plan that could work, would work well if he did it right.

He took a deep breath and skidded to a stop.

Everything felt so still. The air was stagnant and the creatures of the forest held their breath in anticipation. A rush of air flew past him, not expecting the young wolf to stop. In his moment of the upper hand, he spun the other way expecting to be miles ahead. What he didn’t notice was that only two wolves had fallen for his tricks, and the third stood imposing in front of him. He had the same golden fur as Tommy, only more ashy with age and skin laded with scars.

Tommy huffed before plopping onto the ground, catching his breath. The other two wolves walk up beside him.

“I will admit you are getting better.” Phil had shifted back, throwing his cloak over his shoulders. Tommy does the same, tying the cloak around his neck.

“Hell yeah! Did you see how I made Wilbur fly past me twice? And I even got Techno. You guys won’t even be able to touch me soon enough!” A hand smacks the blonde on the back of the head causing a string of whines and curses. “What the hell, man?”

“Didn’t see you, dodge that one.”

“Oh you son of a-”

Phil rolls his eyes and looks over at Techno who has the same exasperated face as him.

Chapter Text

Technoblade had lost count of the days. It was pointless to keep track anyways, its not like any day was different. The only thing that counted was survival.

Step one for surviving the apocalypse: Do whatever it takes.

Technoblade is not proud of what he has done. He has stolen, set buildings ablaze, and even killed. The living, not just the walking corpses that have stolen humanity. But he refused to let the guilt eat away at him. He did what he had to do to survive. He was always a selfish person, a characteristic that was frowned upon back before the world went to shit. Now it was an asset, not many people had what it takes to do what he could. Didn’t mean he enjoyed it, just meant he valued himself above anyone else.

Selfishness saved his life. Besides, he had no one else to protect.

—

It almost scared Techno when the first snowflake drifted onto his gloved hands. The gas mask covering his face deterred the snow from landing on his face, but filtered winter winds still traveled through his nose. If Techno had to guess, it's been 6 months since the apocalypse. The first snow after he lost everything, but also gained some.

He had to be quick with this supply run. He didn’t want to get caught in a snowstorm. This was something new, he had no idea how these corpses would react to the snow.

The gas station surprisingly still had quite a haul of food, most stores by now had been picked dry. It even had canned fruit. Technoblade hadn’t had fruit since before the apocalypse. He never thought he would be so happy to have canned pineapple but he supposed the end of the world brought out sides to people they never thought existed.

A can clanged onto the tile floor an aisle over.

Techno whirled around, drawing his sword from his belt. A prized possession of the man, he had always wanted to own a sword so he guessed the apocalypse was good for one thing. He was quiet on his feet, quick with his movements wanting to get this over with as soon as possible so he could get back to his canned fruit.

When he turned down the next aisle the last thing Techno expected to see was a gangly teen boy glaring daggers into his face. He had a splattered red wooden bat, and scraggly blonde hair that dropped flatly in front of his eyes. He was covered in purplish bruises and a worn red baseball tee hung from his frame. A flimsy green bandana covered his mouth. He tensed more after getting eyes on Techno.

“Who the fuck are you, ugly bitch.”

Now that was a bit shocking. The hostility was a little expected however the comment wasn’t.

“I didn’t think any children were still alive.”

“OI IM NOT A CHILD!”

“Shut up!” Techno hissed, he whipped his head around listening for any stumbling footsteps. When he heard nothing He turned back towards the boy who looked a little startled. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

“I’m not the one who barged into a man's home, prick.”

“Are the comments really necessary-”

“Answer my question, who are you?” The boy stared Techno down, Techno was glad for his gas mask that covered his entire face, or else the kid would see his straining of his face that was trying to hold back amusement. Nothing had scared Techno in a long time, this kid wasn’t going to magically be added to the list.

Techno turned on his feet, heading back to the aisle over to grab the remaining cans he had his eyes on and leave this rotting gas station.

“Hey! Answer the question!”

“No.”

“Wh-”

The kid ran after Techno, tripping over his feet when Techno turned with his sword pointed straight at the kid's throat.

“Listen, kid, I’m just gonna take some of the food here then I’ll leave.”

“That's my food though! I worked hard to scavenge that shit, bitch!”

“You should feel lucky I’m not taking the entire store.”

The kid death glared Techno but didn’t move any closer as he packed up his bag. He zipped up the final zipper, shoving the can further into the bag. He could feel the stare of the kid on his back but refused to turn around.

“Well, thanks for the food kid.”

Techno turned to go, but the echo of the corpses rang in his ears.

“You’rew not welcome bi-”

Techno slammed his hand over the teens mouth, causing his to struggle for a second before he also heard the grumbling. He immediately went silent and Techno let go. He looked over the top of the aisle and out the front door. A herd of over hundreds of corpses were starting to make their way through the city.

Techno lookd over at the kid, who looked fearfully back.

“Well kid looks like you’ll be sharing your food for a little longer.”

Chapter Text

Tommy hated liars.

He had dealt with so many of them but the boiling pit of anger and hurt was always the same. No matter how much his heart screamed that maybe, just maybe this house would be the one, he never let his brain believe it. He had been hurt too many times, too many empty promises, too many sugar-coated lies.

So far, the damn hasn’t broken yet. The foster parent of the house, Phil, has been… okay. He hasn’t hit Tommy yet and he even makes sure he eats every night. It’s a nice change of pace from some others. He actually acts as if he cares. Tommy despised people like Phil. They act like they care until the kid trusts them and then they decide they no longer want them anymore.

Tommy wasn’t going to fall for it again.

—

Tommy awoke to pounding on his door. He groaned and turned over to smash his face into his pillow.

“Tommy! Get up, it’s Christmas!” Wilbur was an interesting character, maybe if he wasn't in this situation they could be friends. He hears Wilbur storm down the stairs, he sighs and slips out of the bed.

When he opened his door he caught Techno starting his way down the stairs, he turned to Tommy and gave him a small nod before walking away. Tommy liked Techno, he didn't hover and he was quiet.

All of them were downstairs. Sitting together in the living room, looking like the perfect family. Tommy felt like he was intruding.

“Good morning, Tommy.” Phil smiled up at him and Tommy wanted to bash his head in. Tommy hated Christmas, he hated being forced to watch people have a picture-perfect Christmas morning and not include him.

He was ready to go to bed already.

“Here you go, Tommy.”

Tommy stared at the present in Phil's hands with a distasteful look on his face. Still, he took the present and sat on the ground closest to the stairs.

“Go ahead and open it.” Phil smiled his stupid pretending-to-care smile. Tommy looked at the other two, they were staring as well.

Tommy opened the present and inside was a red baseball tee. With the sleeves a bright cherry red and the rest or the shirt a clean white. He couldn’t remember the last time he got a gift.

Tommy looked up at the family. Who instead of what he thought was a malicious look, was a fond smile.

Maybe this was the house, after all.

Chapter Text

Wilbur didn’t want to be this way.

A crimson eyed creature of the night that cried out for the thirst of blood. If he thought making friends in school was hard, well being a monster made it even harder. It’s not like he could blame them though, his thirst made him unpredictable and he could lash out so easily. He’s gotten infinitely better about his control over time, he’s had decades to master it. Yet he still remains alone.

It’s easier that way. He doesn’t have to watch his loved ones grow old while he still looks the same as he was when he was 27. Forever immortalized, never moving forward.

It wasn’t as bad as it sounded. Wilbur never had to deal with temperature, sickness, or sleep. He was past the age where sunlight hurt as long as he was fed, his body features were enhanced with the changing of his body, and he even discovered his ability.

Siren song.

At first Wilbur thought it was just by pure luck when he called someone over they always listened, or went slack when he told them to stop moving. He eventually tested it out and discovered it wasn’t luck controlling these events, but himself who could control.

Of course with everything it had its limits. When he was especially weakened with thirst it was harder to convince and strong minded people was something Wilbur tried to avoid.

However, Wilbur still ran into them occasionally.

One of the things that bothered Wilbur about being a vampire was that animal blood didn’t suffice. He tried it once, back when he was still a newborn. The poor street cat was the only thing he could get his hands on. He lived in a city, not a rural area where deers ran rampant. The blood had a mangy smell and felt like acid going down his throat.

He buried the cat in the local park where he found it.

This meant that he would have to hunt humans, so he decided if he had to he would hunt down the ones who deserved to die. Wilbur had lost count of how many murderers, rapists, and pedophiles he had hunted down and gutted.

It made him feel better knowing he wasn’t a monster who hunts good people.

Wilbur has been hunting this same kid for weeks.

He was fast, nimble, and incredibly good at losing Wilbur. He had watched the kid beat a man to death with a pipe and the very next week splatter someone’s brains all over a wall. He was brutal and needed to go. He had never caught the kid's face though. He was always wearing a hoodie and a mask, which made it difficult to track the kid down.

But he found him.

Curled up in the corner of an alleyway, the boy had his finger tearing at the hair on his skull. He looked so small, shivering and whimpering softly to himself. If suddenly noticing Wilbur’s presence, the kid whipped around.

His eyes were a blazing red, so bright they illuminated his face gently. He was scraggly, like he hadn’t showered in weeks and his eyes jumped quickly.

“Get away from me.”

Wilbur stared at the newborn. He wasn’t expecting a newborn vampire, this was different than a human murdered. This kid was thrown into a whole different life without a sire, just like Wilbur.

“I’m a monster. Please, go away.”

“I am too.” Wilbur flashes red through his eyes before concealing them with his human brown. The kid perks up towards him.

“Kill me.”

If Wilbur could get anymore still he did when those words left his mouth. He looked so desperate for death, a look that he never would have thought he would see in the eyes of someone so young.

“Why did you kill those people?” Wilbur deflected the question, not wanting to answer something so morbid. His eyes flashed with anger and then sorrow.

“They turned me into this.”

“But they looked human..?” Wilbur trailed off, racking his memory. He definitely remembered the two men being human.

The kid clenched his fist, “They were.”

Wilbur looked over the newborn again. He saw too much of himself in his eyes.

“Come with me.”

He scrambled to his feet, probably thinking Wilbur was about to kill him. However, that was the last thing he was going to do. After all, Wilbur was growing a bit lonely.

Chapter Text

Many people were afraid of being immortal. Afraid of being forced to live through the pain of everyone close to them having to leave them behind. Having to live through the brutal way of life alone, never having an escape.

Phil used to be afraid.

He was supposed to have died a millennium ago. When his body broke down with sickness, the same illness that had taken his family a week prior. His village was a wasteland, it felt like not even a month ago it was lively with children’s laughter and the murmur of farmers selling their crops. And now those very same children lined the dirt road, lifeless in piles of their own blood.

Phil was ready for the embrace of death at that moment. Curled up tightly in a ball with his dead wife in his arms, the tears had dried up by now. He had no more mourning left inside him, now he sat waiting for Lady Death to call him home.

He was brought back to his surroundings when a cool hand ran through his tangled hair. Phil believed he had already died when he looked up. There stood his wife, with the color back in her cheeks and her hair cascading softly down his shoulders. Her ebony eyes were the same as before she was plagued with illness. She smiled so gently at him.

“My love,” a raging cough racked through Phil’s frail body. “I knew I would see you again. Lady Death has been so kind to me.” Her laugh was soft with affection.

“My dear, it is me. Lady Death. I came down upon the mortals disguised as one of their own to punish them with a plague as a result of their sinful nature.” She bent down to Phil, guilt laced into her eyes. She cupped his cheek gently and touched her forehead to his own. “I am deeply sorry that you have to suffer like this.”

Phil leaned into her warm embrace. “I would suffer a thousand times over if it meant I could spend forever with you.” Sudden bouts of blood escaped Phil lips, wheezy rasp of his lungs filled the room as Phil found himself unable to keep his body weight up. She kissed his forehead and held him close to her body, just like Phil had done for her when she was a mere mortal.

“I will be here when you wake, my love.”

Phil died in the arms of his wife, unknowing that this was not his final moment on earth. The first snowfall of the season covered the children in a blanket.

—

When Phil awoke he was immortal. Kristin had restored his decomposing body and stopped his age permanently. She had also given him a gift, an apology for his tragic last minutes as a human.

Wings.

They were the same color as Kristin’s eyes. The black feathers gleamed underneath the sunlight like he had the entire night sky on his back. They were imposing and left Phil’s enemies running in opposite directions. But his strange, intimidating presence meant many people avoided Phil.

Except for Technoblade.

Technoblade was a terrifying, brutal warrior who had no time for pleasantries. With distinct pale pink hair and striking height, many people avoided Techno just like they did with Phil.

They became quick friends. Together they tore through battlefields, with Phil striking from above and Technoblade plowing through them on the ground.

The only thing Phil feared was Techno’s mortality. He was still human after all, but Phil was selfish. He didn’t want to lose the only friend he had ever made.

Kristin offered to make Techno immortal but Phil didn’t want to take away his mortality. Still, he asked his friends, secretly hoping that he would agree. He didn’t think he would be able to see Techno die.

“Techno.”

“Hm?”

“How would you feel about being immortal.” Techno was one of the few people who knew Phil was immortal. He didn’t know of any other way of bringing up the subject.

“Way to get straight to the point there, Phil.”

“How else would you like me to ask?”

“I don’t know. Maybe ‘Oh Technoblade, I cannot live without you. Can you please agree to be immortal?”

“Never mind I take it back.”

—

Over the years, Techno came up with a saying that only he and Phil would get.

Technoblade never dies.

Chapter Text

He woke up alone. The fire was nothing but embers and the sun barely glanced over the horizon. Like a shy child looking around a corner in curiosity. Gazing at his surroundings, Wilbur knew for sure he had fallen asleep with a mangy blond boy that was now nowhere to be seen.

An annoyed sigh left his lips as the brunette ran his hand down his face. His tangled hair fell below his eyebrows, stealing some of his vision. Flicking his head to get rid of the hair in his way, he turned to where his brother was when he fell asleep. To his left was the sleeping bag that his brother was supposed to be in. Yet it was empty and carelessly thrown open.

Wilburs eyes took in the scene before him. Begrudgingly deciding to find out where the greasy blond ran off to. Tracks stood out in the dirt that trailed opposite of the rising sun. Groaning, the older brunette got up to track his out-of-control younger brother. He packed up their more precious belongings and shoved them into a tree behind leaves. Deciding it was hidden well enough, he turned around to follow the obvious tracks.

Footprints slowly morphed into small paw prints. No longer resembling large feet but a small animal. An occasional occurrence when tracking Tommy, at this point, it would be weird if it didn’t happen.

The tall tired boy let out a noise of frustration, how far did that little shit go? It felt like the small paws on the ground were never-ending and were becoming harder to see due to the influx of grass. Wilbur leaned down to try and make out the prints, whether they were from Tommy or a different animal was beyond him. Another animal had been through here, making it difficult. As many times that he had to track the blond, he still had a hard time differentiating Tommy from an actual animal

A sudden yelp echoed through the awakening sky and alerted the brunette. Wilbur perked up at the sound. He took off in the direction where the sound came from. That yelp, he knew it from anywhere. The tracks still splattered in the dirt were all the more confirmation that he was going the right way. Sounds of struggling and an irritated animal got louder by the second. The trees started to spread further apart into a small clearing.

Pushing past the last branch, Wilbur came upon the source of all the noise.

The clearing looked as if it was a campsite. Two sleeping bags accompanied by a small fire that looked like it was trying to be built again into a steady flame. A backpack lay next to a nearby tree slumped over and open.

Wilbur stood back observing the scene that lay before him.

Dusty gray fur of a raccoon was attacking the neck of a giant hybrid, ceaselessly clawing and seemingly getting nowhere other than pissing it off. With a jerk, the poor animal went flying but in an instant black feathers replaced the gray fur. The crow steadied itself and then turned its head towards the observing taller boy. With a pointed look, the crow stared down at the brunette.

The brooding hybrid still hadn’t noticed the new addition to the fight, his rage had made his vision hazy and unable to focus.

Wilbur sighed heavily and stepped further into the trees, disappearing completely from sight. Adrenaline coursed through the crow. The simple act to any others that he would seemingly leave, was a well-known indication from his brother. The gesture was identical to saying,

“Get ready.”

If Tommy was in human form, the grin on his face would reach all the way across his face. Smug and enduringly childlike.

Tan fur sprouted from the bird and wings became another set of heavy paws. He hit the ground gracefully. A deep growl emitted from the big cat's chest. The towering pig hybrid glowered at the sound and charged at the cat with a snarl.

With quick feet, Tommy sidestepped the raging brood and attacked his exposed back. That had a sword he was not expecting to jump into, literally. The blade made quick work and sliced through his coarse fur. This giant brute wasn’t even welding the sword and it already got a cut on him. He hissed in the hybrid's ear and clawed at his shoulders and lower back to keep himself steady.

Before getting the chance to sink his fangs into the pig's throat, it reached back with a strong grip and yanked the cat off of his back. While trying to latch back on, a claw dragged through the giant's ear and sent a sparkling emerald flying through the air. Tommy crashed into a nearby tree, tan fur shredded by the hard bark. Blood oozed out of the panting animal. His pink tongue is a considerably lighter color than the blood painting the natural beauty of his coat a deep crimson.

In a panic, he whipped his head up to prepare for another strike from his opponent.

However, he wasn’t even near him. The hybrid stood on the other side of the clearing searching for something in the underbrush. Furiously tearing through the green leaves in search of something that Tommy could only guess was valuable.

Even with droplet after droplet of blood that leaked from his ear to hit his shoulder, the hybrid persistently ripped away at the grass.

Just out of the corner of Tommy’s eyes shimmered a forest green emerald. Light bounced off of its reflective beauty. With frantic eyes, his deep onyx eyes flashed between the beast and the glittering gem. Dark black eyes faded to a light yellow with an accompanying rich orange pelt.

One more quick look was all the fox spared before bolting for the precious gem, hoping that the hybrid wouldn’t notice. Scampering over a sleeping bag and around the fire. His prayers were unanswered. A sharp whimper cut through the air as a hoofed hand yanked harshly at his tail.

Tommy furiously thrashed in the pigs' hold, trying desperately to escape to no avail. Snapping madly at the brute with gleaming teeth, salvia strung across the ebony bones that decorated his mouth.

A sudden cool breeze and uneasy feeling swept through Tommy with a shudder. It was a feeling he was so familiar with.

Others would pass it off a random gust of wind, but Tommy knew when Wilbur was around. He braced himself and waited.