1

Immortality is not a gift, but a curse, he was foolish when he was young to accept such a thing. To become immortal and have the name "blood god" weighed on your shoulders is the worst thing that could happen to a mortal. There is no ending to your story, there are only endless pages. Pages and pages that will never stop, just be. Pages that fill the story of your life in a cycle, and pages that carry the weight on your shoulders.

His hands know nothing but the shape of fists and the grip of a sword. His feet know nothing but the boots he wears and the feeling of running and kicking. His head knows nothing but the voices that scream at him, blood for the blood god. His mouth knows nothing but the swears to kill and the taste of blood. The voices seem to get louder day by day.

Blood for the blood god.

After eons of killing over the demand of the voices, he finds himself never satisfied. More blood spills where he goes, leaving widows and orphans in his wake.

Blood for the blood god.

Eons of killing have made it the only thing he does, the only thing he knows how to do.

The blood god's first kill was an easy one. The voices had gotten so loud in his head and demanded the fill of blood. So, he fulfilled their wishes. He wasn't aware of what was happening, but the pleas for his victim's life lay fresh in his head.

"Please, I have a family," he had begged. 

That was his excuse for life, his children and wife, were his excuse. His weak hands had blocked him from facing the pink-haired "teen" that held his life at his mercy.

"Is that why you mention them? To save your own life? Not because you wish to stay in their lives, but because your life is in my hands? You depend on my mercy that shall not be given," Technoblade had answered, and had killed the man. The voices had let out screams of joy at the kill, and he was foolish to think they wouldn't demand more.

Then, as if from a fairytale, a golden-haired man with black wings had found him. He found him stressed in the woods, trying to breathe, the voices had gotten so loud that day. The man had helped him calm him down, whispering reassuring words to him. Funny enough, Techno let him, he didn't kill him like the voices ordered him to. He let him calm him, and he let him stick around. 

They became friends, two gods strolling through woods, slaying as they walked. Neither of them seemed to care, but the voices were always screaming, kill him. 

It was the one time he didn't give in, the one time he ignored them. 

Techno found his five minutes of peace.

It was a mistake to trust this man, to let him into his life. He had woken up in his cot one day, and walked downstairs prepared for the tea Phil usually made for them. But, the man with golden hair and black wings wasn't there. Phil was simply gone. Techno had torn through the cottage for any sign of him. A letter saying where he had gone, an empty teacup, a feather, anything to prove he wasn't a figment of his imagination. A figment invented to calm him day by day, night by night.

Techno couldn't find anything, not a single sign of his being. Then the voices had gotten louder, and more panicked, more demanding than before. He went back to his killing, swinging his sword, giving into the violence. He continued to massacre towns and villages, kingdoms even. 

Just as quickly as it came, those precious five minutes of peace were gone.

Now he's walking into the castle of Matastead, wandering alone, a sword in its sheath on his side. That is, until a guard stops him by a large archway. Technoblade, a man who's known for slaughtering, is being stopped by a man with a single hand.

How foolish, the voices hiss.

"If you're here for tourism, you'll need to hand over the sword," The guard states. It's not in the rude, demanding way Technoblade was used to. It's polite and calm, not rushing him. He seems to be giving him a choice.

Tourism? The voices question the man.

"Fine," Technoblade murmurs and takes off the sheath carefully. There's no harm in looking around a castle anyways. 

What could it hurt? He hands it to the man, who holds it as if it'll run away. 

"Don't break that thing, alright? It's very important to me."

"Don't worry sir, I'll be taking care of it. Have fun walking around," The man smiles and gives him a thumbs-up with a cheery smile. Technoblade nods back to him and walks past the guard, and into the castle.

The hallways are long, longer than expected. On either side of the wall there lays torches set directly across from each other, only separated by arched windows and paintings. A large chandelier hangs in the center of the hall. 

It mesmerizes Technoblade, more than he expected. The pillars that jut out from the walls are laced with gold, all the way to the ceiling, where it forms a sort of pattern. At the end of said hallway, a large staircase sits. It branches off to two separate wings of the castle, ones Techno doesn't care to even walk up. Despite being immortal, stairs are still exhausting.

A boy with golden hair comes running down the stairs. He has blue eyes that squint with his smile accompanied by dimples. The same smile twists into a confused expression when he lays his eyes on Technoblade. He's wearing a ruffled shirt with puffed-out sleeves, along with pants that are high-waisted, brown, and tighten around his ankles. Behind him are two large wings that are snowflake white. They flutter nervously behind him.

Another boy, one with fluffed, brown hair that almost covers one hazel-brown eye follows him. He's wearing the same shirt as the other boy, and over it lays a trench coat, accompanied by straight-legged brown pants. His own wings are red, and he appears to be older than the boy he chased after. He too looks confused.

"Who are you?" The older boy asks Technoblade, who stands at the foot of the stairs. "And what are you doing in the castle?"

"Tourism," Technoblade responds in a calm voice, while the other boy speaks angrily.

"Wilbur, do we know him?" The blond boy asks and looks up at what Technoblade assumes to be his brother.

"No, you don't know me," Technoblade says and stuffs his hands inside his pockets. His boots tap the red-carpeted floor beneath them. "and I don't know you."

"Oh. Well, Will, there's nothing to be worried about," The boy smiles hopefully and looks up at Will.

"No, Tommy. Go get Father, will you?" Will requests, Tommy nods and beats his wings a few times before flying off. He heads in an eastern direction. "How do you not know who we are? We're the princes of Matastead," Will orders and crosses his arms across his chest.

"I'm a traveler," Techno states plainly, "I don't stick around to know princes or kings."

Tommy comes flying down and lands awkwardly next to Will. He has to catch himself on the railing once his feet meet the ground. 

"Father'll be down in a minute, he says," Tommy smiles and turns his attention back to Technoblade.

"What's your name anyway, tourist?" Will emphasizes his last word, and in a funny way it's a bit hurtful. 

Just a tourist.

He's not so sure he should tell them. What if they know his name, what he does? They could find out from a single word how he's massacred entire towns to satisfy.

"My name?" Technoblade murmurs and tries to think of an alias. But, Technoblade is the only name he knows, or is familiar with.

"Technoblade," A voice interrupts quietly, but quietly enough so he could hear. 

The pink-haired man raises his head, and immediately a look of shock crosses his face. The shock quickly turns to anger in a flash.

Not him, the voices scream, don't trust him. Don't trust him. Not again not again not again.

"Philza," He hisses and crosses his arms. 

If not for the guard taking his sword, he would've taken it out. Phil, a man who wasn't just a figment of imagination, stands in front of him. In front of his very own eyes. A man who left without a trace and left him wondering why.

"So, you do know our Father!" Tommy points at him and yells it confidently, like a kid who guessed the correct amount of jelly beans in a jar. 

Philza places a hand on both of their shoulders and whispers something to them. Whatever it was, it made Will frown.

"Father, you said you would take a break. You said you would spend time with us today," Will crosses his arms across his chest and blows brown hair out of his way. For a teenager, he's acting sort of childish at the moment.

"This is very important, Wilbur. It won't take too long, okay?" Philza reassures him and eyes Techno, who still stands firmly at the foot of the stairs. With that, the two boys walk away.

"It's nice to see you again," Philza smiles at Technoblade, and reaches out a hand. He smacks the hand away with a scoff, "I deserve that."

"Why would you leave?" Techno shouts and is quickly shushed down by Philza.

"Come on, let's talk about this somewhere else, alright?" He beckons him to follow him, and they make their way up the stairs. The gods-awful stairs. They reach a balcony, a forest stretched across the lands greets them.

"I'm waiting for an answer, Philza. Why did you leave me?" Techno emphasizes each word, glaring at him with eyes that could kill, much like his sword.

"I came back here, Techno."

"This is the place you've told me about? The place you swore not to come back to?" Techno shouts, throwing his arms out. His breaths are short, already heaving with anger. "You couldn't have told me?"

"I had to go, Technoblade," Philza restates and sighs. His wings shake behind him, the same wings that were his main factor in killing.

"You could've brought me with you! Or – better yet – told me. Not even a letter?" He sighs and runs hands trembling with anger through his hair. He pulls at it slightly, blood appears on his scalp where pink strands are pulled out.

"Technoblade, I didn't have time."

"For gods' sake! You're immortal. You have all the time in the world!"

"Keep your voice down," Philza hisses, the first time Techno has seen him the slightest bit angry, "I have children now, Technoblade."

"Your children are not the topic of the conversation, Philza," Technoblade shoots back and corners him against the railings. "I want to know why. Why did you leave me wondering if I had gone insane. If I had just made you up?"

"Keep your voice down, Technoblade," Philza demands once again and places a hand over his mouth. Technoblade smacks the hand away. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't realize how you would feel."

"When your ex-best friend leaves, with no explanation, it tends to take a toll on you." He counters and motions to grab the collar of Phil's cloak. In return, Phil grabs his wrist and twists it away from him.

"Technoblade. I realized I still care for these people, I still love Matastead."

"Right, because the kingdom you abandoned is yours to take care of?"

"I might have left, but I still wanted to help. I still want to protect them."

"So what? Are you going to abandon me again, kick me out? Because I'm the blood god? Like how you are the angel of death?"

"No, I won't kick you out. Technoblade, I want you to stay," Philza looks at him sorrowfully and lets go of his wrist with a sigh.

"Stay?" Technoblade repeats and scoffs, "Philza, I don't form connections to people. You know that, I don't want to put them in danger."

"My sons can handle themselves, I can handle myself. Stay," Philza folds his hands in an almost prayer-like form. As if he was praying to him, to kill his enemies like so many others had done before. 

Yet every time they did, they only came to regret it.

"Give me one good reason I should," Technoblade demands and leans on the railway. 

When he looks at Philza, a man who had appeared seemingly out of a fairytale, he isn't looking at him anymore. Instead, he's looking down to the garden on his left, where his sons are playing. Two sons, seemingly having the time of their lives, chase each other through the garden. Two sons where one flies above the other and onto the top of the tree, the other immediately following.

"We could be friends again, like old times," Philza smiles at him kindly, "together. You could have peace."

Five minutes of peace, it's all Technoblade has ever wanted. He'll do anything to have that back. "Fine, I'll stay."

Philza looks at him with a broad smile and pats his shoulder. "I'll show you to your room, if you would like to stay here."

"Well, I don't want to be staying in the town, that's for sure." Technoblade chuckles and follows the man in front of him slowly, "Do I get my sword back from the guard?"

"I can have it delivered to you," Philza shrugs and gestures one arm to a large set of double doors. It sits beside two other doors just like it. "You'll be staying here, the marketplace is in the town if you'd like new clothes."

Technoblade nods and opens the doors, taking in his new room. It's just as simple as the cottage room he remembers. Plants hang around the room, and vines have gathered on the edge of the dresser. He assumes it hasn't been used in a long time.

"Sorry about the mess, we can clean it up," Phil suggests cheerfully,

"No, no it's fine. I like it as it is," Technoblade nods and turns on his heels to face the man behind him. "Mind if I come out to the garden with you?"

"Not at all, the boys would love to meet you," They walk out together, through the large hallways. Technoblade doesn't understand why they have to be so long, but it is a castle. Not like any other run down castles he's seen before. It's large and showy.

Outside there is a large weeping willow tree, a hammock sits on two branches. In the hammock Wilbur is reading with his glasses on, red wings tucked around him. Tommy is sitting by the tree, picking at flowers. He knows they'll stay alive, so it really doesn't matter.

Wilbur, having been invested in his book, only notices them when Tommy springs up and shakes him to look at the two approaching. Techno pulls his lips into a thin line, a habit for smiling awkwardly. Instead, Tommy flashes a wide smile back, dimples and squinty eyes accompaining it. Wilbur squints at him, still a bit suspicious of who he is exactly.

"Boys, meet Technoblade," Philza gestures to the taller god beside him with a slight smile, "He'll be staying with us."

"Why?" Wilbur immediately questions and receives a harsh elbow to the side from Tommy, and yelps in surprise.

"Shush, Will. I think it's cool!" Tommy laughs and runs up the Technoblade, who stands with his lips upturned in the slightest smile. Unexpectedly, he throws his arms around him in a quick embrace, then turns to his Father and clings on his arm. Despite being a teenager, Tommy isn't afraid to show his love.

"Tommy, don't hit your brother," Philza sighs and ruffles the blond's hair, who immediately protests against the action. "And William, do be nice to Techno, yeah?"

"Technoblade," Techno corrects him with a frown, "I haven't forgiven you yet, Philza." He pushes up his circular, gold-rimmed glasses with a huff. The fangs on his bottom teeth show as he does, which gets a reaction from Wilbur.

"You've got fangs," Wilbur smiles and points at his own bottom teeth, "that's pretty neat."

"Thank you," Technoblade murmurs in response, surprised by the sudden compliment. "That's very kind of you."

Wilbur gets up, carefully setting his book in the hammock as well as his glasses, and walks over, the grass shuffling under his feet. When he arrives at their sides he stands next to Technoblade, who is taller than him. Not by much, but still taller. He glances up at him and frowns.

"Well, you're the first to be taller than me that I've met," Wilbur purses his lips and shrugs,

"Well, I'm not sure if that's a compliment."

"I'll go see if your mother wants to join us. Wait here with Technoblade, okay?" Philza pats them both, receiving nods from the two of them, and strolls away.

"So, Technoblade, how'd you get your name?" Tommy asks and beckons for him to follow them to the willow tree. "Cause that's a pretty unique name, if you ask me," Tommy's wings flutter behind him with anticipation and excitement.

"Well, then I guess my parents were pretty original," Techno shrugs. In all truth, he doesn't remember his family. He doesn't remember his parents, or any siblings he had. Everything's so blurry, after all, it's been eons.

The three of them sit on the grass, well, Tommy and Wilbur fight over the hammock. Tommy wins by smacking him away with his right wing, earning a shout from the other. Techno, truthfully, is enjoying it up until he remembers he's watching them. He runs in between them just as Wilbur raises his wing to slap Tommy. Instead of slapping Tommy, he slaps Techno, whose head doesn't whip to the side, like a normal human's would. His cheek just forms a red mark and his eyes cast daggers into the younger's soul.

"I'm so sorry, I, uhm," Wilbur stumbles for words and takes a careful step back. His wings draw in behind him and he flashes an awkward smile.

Technoblade is about to raise a fist, hands clenched at his sides. Then, he remembers where he is and pauses. 

"It's fine," he says almost as if he was forced to. Like a kid forced to apologize to his sibling after hitting them.

Tommy, who was standing behind Technoblade, taps him on the shoulder. He turns around to look at the boy who wanted his attention. "I can help with that, if you like."

"How?" Technoblade questions and furrows his brows in confusion. 

His question is answered when a hand touches his cheek, making the red mark go away and the slight pain fades. He smiles and thanks him quietly, sitting on the grass beside them.

Wilbur sits on the grass beside him, clearly still mad he lost the fight for the hammock, and lays on his back. He lets his arms spread out along with his wings, basking in the sunlight. A smile spreads on his face, closing his eyes. Techno watches him, wishing he could have that peace. Maybe he can, maybe he can finally have five minutes of peace.

"Lay down, it's nice," Wilbur offers to Techno, who shakes his head.

"No, no it gets grass in my hair," he gestures to the long, pink braid, "it's annoying to get out afterwards."

Wilbur only nods and closes his eyes once more. Then, Tommy's eyes light up and he's flying out of the hammock in a heartbeat. Technoblade winces at the sudden movement, but follows nevertheless. He tracks the direction of the boy to a woman with raven-black, long hair and a white gown who's walking their way.

"Is that your mother?" Technoblade taps Wilbur's leg, who sits up quickly. 

He nods and shoots up from the grass, flying over with immediate urgency. Techno shrugs and gets to his feet, he dusts off his pants before walking over.

"Kristin, meet Technoblade," Philza introduces the two, and they shake hands. Wilbur and Tommy stand at her side, acting like bodyguards. "Do you want shade?" he asks the woman, who nods quietly.

Techno stands for a bit, staying behind for just a moment as they walk. Tommy walks backwards towards him and smiles

 "Mother doesn't talk much," he says and points at the woman.

"Oh," Is all he can say with a nod. "I'll go to my room now. Have fun."

"Alright, get settled well!" Tommy smiles and waves at him, running to his family. Techno wishes he could have something like that. But how can he when he can't remember the names of his own parents?