#and neither does Technoblade

[arriathedragon]

Happy Birthday King! I know I’m a little late but I wanted to give him something full and not rushed :> I also Tried a new style so there’s that too.

I miss you Technoblade, I hope your ok.

(More versions under the cut cause I couldn’t decide which was best + One with no words)

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Actually I'm making my own post because I'm so passionate about this. Both Phil and Technoblade are very different but very distinct flavors of chaotic. And their friendship works so well because they can both be the other's voice of reason OR hype man going along with the chaos, depending on the bit.

Yes, Phil is way more often faulty characterized as the 'calm, reasonable dad guy' when he's anything but. Overall, I'd agree that Techno is generally more 'reasonable' in his actions because he's a logic thinker and a strategist at heart, he's good at risk assessment. But he's definitely still impulsive. And while Phil does things for the sheer lolz of it, Techno also does things without worrying about consequences a lot and then weasels his way out of those consequences. Techno definitely does not have a reason for everything he does - unless you count "I'm doing it because I can" as a reason.

Phil is not the reasonable one. Neither is Techno. They're both chaotic as fuck in vastly different ways. Portraying either of them as the Reasonable One and the other as nothing but a Chaos Gremlin at all times is a disservice to how well they can both fall into either role - or better yet, when neither is being reasonable at all and they just amplify each other's chaos!

[thanotaphobia]

After abuelo has gone upstairs, Tallulah sits in bed and runs her fingers over hew new flute.

Abuelo has made their new room cozy. The walls are strong and safe, made of purple stone and reinforced. The lights are calm and welcoming, and Chayanne and her share a room now. They’d shared before, but this is different. This is permanent, according to abuelo. At least until her papa comes back. 

Across the room, she can make out Chayanne in the dimness. They’re supposed to be asleep, and abuelo had left them a nightlight because he figured the dark would scare them. He’d been right. He’s smart like that, abuelo is. The quiet type of smart, hiding it underneath a loud laugh and chaotic nature. She can hear him upstairs now- he should be sleeping too, she thinks, but instead he’s rattling around in the chests above them. It’s comforting. She can hear the steady whirring of a grindstone and metal being sharpened to a point, and it makes her feel safe.

Not safe enough, though. She shifts, and across the room, so does Chayanne.

There’s enough light to see by, so enough light to sign by.

You’re awake, Chayanne says, squinting at her.

So are you, she says. 

I’m scared to go to sleep, Chayanne admits, fingers flying like birds. I don’t want to take my eyes off of you. I don’t want to lose you again.

I trust you, Tallulah tells him. She does. Implicitly. She doesn’t play her flute, because that would let abuelo know they’re not asleep like they’re supposed to be, but she wishes she could play that simple song. 

I’m so scared, Chayanne says, ducking his head like he’s ashamed to admit it. 

Hesitantly, softly, Tallulah signs back: Me too.

For a little while after, neither of them say anything. They listen to the sound of abuelo sharpening many, many knives upstairs.

Do you think Technoblade ever failed? Chayanne asks. Tallulah doesn’t know how to answer, so she doesn’t. She just shrugs. Do you think he couldn’t protect someone, sometime?

I don’t know, she insists. Chayanne frowns, and looks away. Tallulah’s very bones are tired. Her arms and legs hurt. There is a shock of white in her hair now. Chayanne has one too- neither of them have said anything about it, and abuelo’s face had paled when he’d noticed it first. Talking about it seems bad. So they haven’t.

I want to be strong, Chayanne says, fingers signing hesitantly, then a little more firmly. I will be strong.

I believe in you, Tallulah says. They look at each other from across the basement, and then after a second, Chayanne gets out of bed and tiptoes over. She lifts the covers for him to slip under, and neither of them say any more as they lie there in the dim light, listening to the sound of their own breathing and abuelo’s love upstairs. Tallulah’s not sure when she falls asleep. She just does.

[dsmptake2]

may I ask what ur planning on doing with the c!technoblade character due to the creator, technoblade, passing?

Really good question!

I would first like to emphasize that the answer is something I thought about since the very beginning of this project, as he was an important aspect of the storyline for a lot of people.

Technoblade will be available as a character in this project. It would feel wrong to have everyone included BUT him, especially with such a brilliant character as his. There is a legacy that can be maintained by his fans, and this is something we've decided to take part in by including his character.

This being said, his shoes are a lot to fill, and that legacy is an important one to maintain. So, we will be VERY careful with who we pick to play his character. There will most likely be auditions held for his spot, and every application will be read through thoroughly, completed with a detailed background check, to make sure we pick the right person.

Technoblade never dies - neither does his character! 🐷👑

[lennjamin-o7]

Two kingdoms au (mcd, human sacrifice, a little gore)

Techno is the younger prince of the kingdom of Hypixel. The kingdom has been at war with the neighboring kingdom of Hardcore for as long as Techno can remember.

Unfortunately, this means that Techno never met his father or older brother, as they were busy with the war effort.

Techno was raised by the castle staff. He still had the best education in books and swords.

When Techno is eleven, word comes that peace has been negotiated.

There’s only one problem: the kingdom of Hardcore worships the goddess of death, and any peace treaty must be sealed with the death of a member of the ruling side’s ruling family.

And Techno is expendable.

The reasoning makes sense, Techno is neither the King nor the Crown Prince. But it still hurts.

Techno is sent with a delegation to Hardcore. He wants to run, but he knows what the consequences will be for his people if he does. So he stays.

On the journey, Techno hears the delegates talking about him. Some seem sympathetic, but the others warn them not to get too close, because Techno is destined to die on Lady Death’s alter.

None of the castle staff are part of the delegation, and Techno is alone.

They arrive at the castle of the king of Hardcore. The staff is polite. The accommodations are nice. Techno has a very nice set of rooms all to himself.

The next day a knock comes on Techno’s door.

The door is opened to reveal the ruler of Hardcore himself, Philza, politely asking to come in.

Philza has come to explain the ritual that will seal the peace treaty. It will take place on the goddess’s holy day in two weeks time. The participant MUST be willing. Is Technoblade willing? He asks, is he sure? He is not being forced?

Techno is scared, but he is willing.

For some reason, Philza looks sad at the answer.

Every afternoon following the initial visit, Philza comes to see Technoblade. They talk or walk through the palace or the gardens or spar or read in the royal library.

It makes the days bearable.

Two days before the ceremony, Techno turns twelve. Philza brings a short novel as a gift and a cake to share. Techno finishes the book the next morning.

The afternoon before the ceremony, Techno asks if his father or brother will be there. They chose not to attend.

Techno looses his grip on his emotions and sobs in Philza’s arms.

Philza promises Techno that he will be with him the whole time, and that it will not hurt. Philza promises that the goddess is kind.

The promises are the only thing keeping Techno together.

The next morning Philza offers Techno tea made with a single petal from one of the goddess’s sacred flowers.

The tea tastes… cold. Philza does not drink.

The next part is usually done with the sacrifice’s closest family and friends, but Techno’s family is not here.

It is Philza who helps Techno bathe and dress, and it is Philza who gently takes Techno’s hand and walks him down the isle of the church of Lady Death to the altar, like a father about to give away his daughter to her betrothed.

Philza lays Techno down on the alter, his hand brushing Techno’s hair back and out of his face before moving to be a steadying grip on Techno’s shoulder.

Philza addresses all the people Techno does not know and Techno studies the design on the ceiling.

Techno already knows the words.

The speech comes to an end.

Phil’s hands shift to rest gently on Techno’s chest. Techno closes his eyes, silent tears escaping.

It seems that Philza’s first two promises to him held true as there was no pain when Philza’s fingers dug into Techno’s chest and pried back his ribs.

It felt odd with Philza’s hands inside his chest, gently gripping his heart like a precious thing.

Now Techno was somewhere else, cradled in the arms of the woman Philza had described to him. It was over, but even now Techno could still feel Philza’s hands holding his heart.

Everytime I tried to post this one, I had to just lay down and cry for a bit. It broke my heart (in a good way). And they way you explain the dread of the inevitable sacrifice just CRUSHES MY SOUL (in a good way)

Crying again 😢😢😢😢💚💚💚💚

[drmslastmorning]

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Forgiveness & Loneliness

Phantom pain / the rupture

Characters: Dream, Tommyinnit

Words: 2.2k (one-shot)

Warnings: nothing for once! maybe past mentions of abuse, torture. the usual prison talk.

Dream's been staying with Technoblade for a bit. Tommy gets talked into entertaining the idea of a conversation between them.

Dream places down a rock next to a few others. He looks like a child collecting rocks, surely even Techno would send mocking laughter his way if he saw him right now. The loneliness he feels without the other feels misplaced, but it's almost like he's homesick. Well, he guesses this cabin is his home, so he shouldn't be, but when he's alone, it just feels like that, a cabin. He doesn't feel at home. Tommy wants to make fun of him, but the comment gets stuck in his throat. 

"You look like shit," Tommy utters instead and he feels it's the most neutral thing he could've said. He doesn't have many positive words for the man across the room, nor does he plan on developing any. He's not quite sure why he's entertaining the thought of even talking to each other: as if that'd make a difference to the past. (It could make a difference for your future!), he recounts Phil's words in his head and massages his forehead with a sigh. He wonders if it's worth the hassle and he supposes it has to be, he's already here now. No backing out.

"Thanks." Dream swallows flatly and if he could disappear into the wall he's suddenly leaning against, he would. The room's illuminated by the fireplace and 2 gently lit lanterns, which Dream is still getting used to. He's not quite sure he'll ever be truly comfortable with the crackling of fire and the way it illuminates the room, but it's what makes Techno the most comfortable, so he supposes he'll put up with it. (He hasn't mentioned his discomfort, doesn't plan to.)

"So," Dream takes the lead, even though his throat dries up instantly. "Techno said to talk."

"I don't want to talk to you."

"That makes two of us." He mimics Tommy's sigh and it makes the other narrow his eyes at him.

"You're full of shit. I don't think you'd tell me a single truthful word." His voice drips with venom and it's increasingly clear that little will be achieved this way. He's unsure why Techno and Phil thought it would be a great idea to leave them alone like this. Hopefully Techno would be back soon.

Dream nods. "Let it out," he says in a manner that could be mistaken to be mocking, but he's mimicking again- This time the way Techno lets him go out on his cynical monologues. It does weirdly help when you're not being taken seriously whatsoever, as frustrating as it feels when you are monologuing.

"Don't make it sound like you care for what I have to say to you, shithead," Tommy curses, crossing his arms, sinking into the couch he's sitting on. Dream standing and him sitting gives him a weird feeling of power dynamic, but standing up would be admitting such and for once he's aware that he is simply imagining the notion. It's not mutual and if he acknowledges it it'll only give Dream an advantage - whatever that may mean in a situation such as this.

"This is pointless."

"I have to agree," Dream nods again, shaky fingers reaching out for one of the bigger rocks. They're cold, even though the room temperature feels like it's only getting warmer. It's probably not, but he feels like the heat is closing in on him. Every inch of his body hurts, it's phantom pains, Techno described it as. No shit, Dream had responded to that, he's not stupid.

"Do you want to leave?"

"I do," Tommy whispers, but shakes his head. "But I fucking- I guess I want peace too? You're- I don't ever feel at peace when you're there. But neither do I when- When you're not there." He just wants to feel alright. He wants to be capable of sitting here without feeling hands on his shoulder and hearing Dreams voice as if it was right by his ear and feeling like every inch of his body is owned by someone other than him.

"Right." Dream thought that's what it is and he can't blame him for the paranoia, considering he's the very source of it. "I don't have any motive to hurt you," he says, carefully.

Weirdly enough, the rocks do provide a source of comfort. Cold helps him ground himself, it helps him remember that he's not surrounded by obsidian and cut off from the world by a lava stream. But that's about as much as they do and he can't help but feel a little childish standing in the corner, holding rocks in between fingers and prosthetics Phil crafted for him. He's really good at making those and Dream's never asked why. He wonders, though.

"That's- that's the exact opposite of comforting. What the hell would you do if you did, huh?"

"Maybe I would hurt you then, yeah."

"Right. Fuckin'- Of course you didn't learn shit. I know you haven't changed a bit." Tommy feels a little ridiculous saying this to the pitiful mess cowering against the wall, but after years of paranoia it feels a little like instinct. He barks because he doesn't really have enough of a bite. But he's too scared to shut his stupid mouth. He'd bite, but Phil told him not to and for once in his life Tommy feels he should mature a little and listen. He knows, such a shocker.

"Eh, I'd say I've changed," the taller(or is he? Dream doesn't really know anymore.) hybrid rolls the rock between his shaking fingers, leaning his head against the wall. He feels dizzy, but there's nowhere nearby to sit down. His balance hasn't been the same, he still looks so much smaller than he did before. Tommy is really thin, but he feels even he's got more meat on his bones right now.

"Maybe not for the better like you seem to have- hoped. Sorry about that." His words feel mocking even to Dream himself, but he doesn't have the energy to put any empathy in his words. It wouldn't be true anyways, because he doesn't truly feel sorry. When he sees Tommy like that, he feels nothing but his usual sadistic streak biting at the back of his throat, he wants to fall back into every habit he learned in the past years. (Changing means the prison meant nothing. Getting better means the prison meant nothing. Regaining friendships and forgiveness and gentleness and kindness means the prison meant fucking nothing and he endured what he did for fucking nothing. The thought sends him spiraling.) His whole body aches. Changing means the prison means nothing. Changing means all of his trauma was for nothing. Being all buddy-buddy with Techno means distancing himself from everyone was for nothing. 

But he feels lonely. It's so laughable. He went through so much and now he feels like it was easier to deal with when he was rotting in prison. Now it just hurts and he has to confront it.

"Right-- Right you fucking are," Tommy hisses, finally getting off from the couch he's sitting on. He can't bear the perceived oppression any longer and he hates the way Dream winces into the wall when he does. He hates the way he can't take his eyes off him and he hates the pitiful way he's looking at him. "God damn, Dream. You look really damn pitiful right now, do you know that?" He hates it. His tail whips against the couch behind him, almost in a painful manner. 

Dream closes his eyes with a nod. "Mhm."

"I don't accept your apology, by the way."

"That's okay. I didn't mean it anyways," Dream admits, opening his eyes again. He's disoriented for a moment, before he finds Tommy again. He seems to have wandered around the room, closer to the fireplace. An intrusive thought itches him to push him into the flames, but he doesn't. He doesn't think he'd succeed anyways, and he's not sure if the fact that it seems impossible is the only thing stopping him. If it is, he must be closer to the Dream Tommy is seeing than even he thought he was. The pain didn't make him a better person. Unsurprising to the both of them. Pain didn't make either of them any better.

"Techno's really betting on the fact that you've changed," Tommy comments, finally having managed to tear his gaze from the other.

"I never promised him anything." It comes out a lot more defensively than he means it to.

"Well, I guess you haven't killed me. You've got that going for you," he exclaims sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Maybe I'm just waiting for you to lower your guard."

"I could just kill you, too," the blonde says, looking back at Dream. They exchange stares.

"You could." Dream nods, breathing out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "But I don't think Techno would forgive you for that one."

"Hah. He doesn't care about me anyways. Why else do you think he's putting me in the same four walls as you?" Tommy grits his fists and he really wants to punch Dream. Maybe he could take that last life of his the same way he did his.

"I don't know. Certainly not for me. I barely even think about you anymore." That statement feels like a sting to his fucking chest and it snaps something inside of him. He stomps over to Dream and when he's standing in front of him, he suddenly feels taller. That wasn't the way he expected to feel so close to someone he fears so much more when he isn't even there. He hates that he isn't even scared of him.

"Are you going to punch me?" Dream looks at Tommy, and he does feel smaller. He's not sure if he actually is, it's been a while since they've been friendly enough to compare heights and last time he stood in front of him he was wearing platforms. He doesn't have the balance for those anymore.

"I was going to." Tommy is trembling. "I was fucking going to, Dream."

"Well, I'm not stopping you." Not that he could, anyways. He thinks about Techno, and he wonders how Techno would react if he returned to him dead on the floor. He's almost tempted to find out. He guesses he wouldn't see it, if he did die.

"Your pitiful act's working really well," Tommy curses under his breath and Dream wants to respond that it's not an act, but when he opens his mouth no sound comes out. Really proving the pitiful part of what Tommy said. Tommy can't do it. He wants to and he balls his fist and he feels like a fucking puppet on a string but he just can't do it.

"I'm not-- Yeah, you know what? I'm better than that. I'm not going to punch you. You're a fucking parasite, but I'm not going to fucking punch you."

Dream doesn't know how to argue against that. He doesn't know if it makes Tommy much better if he won't punch him. He'd almost argue he'd be doing them all a favor.

"It's not going to bring me fucking peace if I do. Your fucking- You're going to be a parasite regardless of if I kill you. It won't get you out of my head."

"Sorry about that," Dream says again, and it makes Tommy grit his teeth.

"Do you mean that?"

"I don't know."

"That's what I fucking thought. Your empty apologies mean fucking nothing to me." Tommy shakes his head, then steps away from him again. "I don't forgive you. I'm never going to." He feels so fucking lonely in Dreams presence. But it's almost worse when he's completely alone. He finds himself wondering if he should just run away. It's not worth it to wait for Techno to return. This is pointless.

Dream bites his lip. "Are you going to tell Sam?"

"Tell Sam what, bitch?"

Dream doesn't respond. He's not quite sure why he asked about Sam. Instinct, perhaps. He still sees him in everything. He still fears him too much.

"He knows you're here. He's the one who keeps warning me about you. The way he talks about you fucking weirds me out, actually." Tommy grabs a log and tosses it into the dying fire and for a moment he wonders how it'd feel to throw himself into the flames. He doesn't. It's a suicidal thought he hasn't had in a while. Maybe being around Dream is actually just making him worse again.

"So I haven't really- been talking to him. What am I going to tell him? Oh, Dream tried apologizing to me. Techno wanted me to fucking forgive him, by the way. Yeah, they've been fucking." Tommy snorts, falling onto the rug with a sigh, crossing his legs.

Dreams breath feels too short. His breathing is really shallow. "We haven't-"

"Whatever, man. Until you realize the fucking- Damage you did to me nothing is going to change."

A swallow. "I do. But I can't really force myself to feel bad for you."

Tommy laughs dryly. "Well, at least you're honest. I'll give you that, Dream."

"Thanks?"

"Let's wait for Techno in silence?," Tommy offers, having given up on the banter.

Dream laughs, a bit more genuine. "Yeah, sure."

[lookinghalfacorpse]

great achievements my piece for the @technoblade-first-try-challenge my prompt was: technoblade braiding his hair highly inspired by this post

/dsmp /rp

------

Dream shifted uncomfortably beneath the heavy cape.  It was too hot to wear inside the cell, if he were being completely honest with himself, but the weight and coverage granted the illusion of safety.  “Illusion” was the key word here; he wasn’t safe.  Not here, not with anyone.

Yet, Technoblade sat behind him, carefully twisting his long hair into a delicate braid and then curling it within itself, making something of an updo.  A few hours ago, he had Dream crouched over the cauldron and washed through the matted strands the best he could, and then he waited for it dry while occasionally combing through it with his fingers.  Once that was done, he sat Dream down and did his best to put it into a style that won’t get mangled again.

“I’m bored.  Not much else to do,” was Techno’s excuse.

Dream’s excuse would’ve been something along the lines of ‘I had my back to him many times already.  He would’ve hurt me already if he was determined.  He’d wait until I was asleep.’ but he didn’t say it.

“Ya know, there’s no mirror in here.  I could make you look like anythin’ and you’d have no idea,” Techno deadpanned at some point, breaking the silence suddenly and making Dream jump.

“Don’t put a dick on my head,” Dream rebutted.

“Dream.”

“Or... uh, that sounds bad.  Uh, don’t... don’t put my hair in the shape of a penis.”

“I was thinkin’ Pennywise hair myself, actually.  Or maybe double pigtails-- a bit of Harley Quinn action.”  He placed two fists on the top of Dream’s skull, miming where pigtails might have sat on him.

“Harley’s cool,” Dream granted.

“You ever see all of my braids?”

It seemed like a dumb question.  They were hard to miss.  There were many brains of different sizes and lengths along Techno’s head, some which were adorned with beads or twisted around a colorful fabric.  “Yeah?” Dream replied.

“They’re piglin culture.  I braid the same things into my hair every wash day, and it takes forever.  They all mean different things.  There’s a warrior one, and another for all the weapons I’ve mastered.  A few spiritual ones.  One that’s matchin’ with Phil.”  He ran his finger along the side of Dream’s temple.  “I gave you one.  It’s a little hidden.”

Dream felt heat rise to his face.  His excuse would’ve been ‘It’s hot under this stupid cape of yours,’ but he didn’t say it.  “What does it mean?”

“It’s for a great achievement.  The achievement bein’,” Techno’s smile was evident in his voice.  He was awful proud of this, “survivin’ in a death box.”

“I haven’t survived it yet.  Neither have you.  Quackity could come back any day now--”

“--and we’re gonna survive it, that’s what I keep tellin’ you!  C’moooon, have some faith, c’mon.  You’re never get the ‘faith’ braid at this rate, c’mooon.”

Dream adjusted the cape on his shoulders a bit, with a smile on his face.

[tjodity]

Hey do you wanna rant to me about dsmp gender hcs perhaps ❤️ or disabilities i just need entertainment

sorry this took a while!!

-Tubbo is partially blind in both eyes after his execution. His vision is heavily reduced and very blurry in any part he can actually see. He's also partially deaf. He uses glasses and a walking stick to get about. During his presidency he tries to obscure the fact that he's blind by wearing a partial mask and having Tommy and later Ranboo or Quackity by his side to help prevent him from tripping. Tommy generally lingers very close to him and talks quite loudly, which Tubbo appreciates because it means that he can see/hear Tommy much better than anyone else

-Hannah is a transfem human who is sensitive to the health of the nature around her. She dresses up as a fairy partially as a gender euphoria thing, which is why she fought so hard for the elytra. She's also a lesbian and one of the more confident people in their sexuality on the server, though she doesn't verbalize it often.

-Tommy is transfeminine and nonbinary. They used their very overblown comedic persona and idolize people like Jschlatt because they never felt any connection to her own masculinity and felt wrong for it. They start figuring out their gender after Manberg and fully accept themselves after Bedrock Bros. She's also platoniromantic, meaning her platonic and romantic feelings are kind of twisted together, and asexual. She wants to marry Tubbo. They have bad joint pain and stiffness as well as audio processing issues. They have delusions that can make talking to certain people difficult

-Eret is blind

-Puffy is kind of a woman but really likes fucking with her gender. She tends to create new personas when she does this. She also enjoys being contradictory it gives her gender euphoria. Most of the time she uses she/her and masculine titles (dad, papa, sir, mr, etc) and will dress in a range from masculine to feminine, but sometimes she'll do full drag in a variety of combinations of gender traits because she needs a change. Her feelings for Badboyhalo are gay but so are her feelings for Niki. She's also fat btw that's not a queer hc but it is important to me

-Schlatt has chronic pain and fatigue caused by a heart condition. He usually uses a cane and frequently has to lie down for periods of time between physical activities. He does neither in Manberg and exacerbates his illness with smoking, drinking, and forcing himself to walk around and stand for all hours of the day.

-Nihachu has persisting pain in her shoulder from when she was attacked leaving Manberg. Trauma and intense isolation exacerbated some mental stuff she already had. She experiences auditory hallucinations sometimes, can experience delusions, and has difficulty speaking in a way people around her can fully understand. She's probably bisexual but considers herself a lesbian

-Kind of a mental health headcanon but Technoblade does not hear voices in the sense of a mental health issue. He's sworn himself to service of the God of death (blood) and she just whispers at him sometimes.

[missycolorful]

there is silence after the storm (the silence isn't all that quiet)

Hello! This is my my gift for @xexpaguette for the @technoblade-gift-exchange !!! I really hope you enjoy! :D It's also available to read on Ao3!

----

The air is bitter cold and electric, tinged with the remarkably copper-esqe scent of blood.

Another body folds and collapses onto the ground with a resounding thud. Towering over the fallen soldier, Technoblade shifts the weight of his ax from one hand to the other. Grace with a lull in the chaos, he tilts his head and lifts up his cape. Blood of the enemy stains the fabric, and—

Techno clicks his tongue in disdain. "Aww, what—bruh, I just stitched this this morning,” Techno complains to the lifeless corpse at his feet as he gestures a new tear that swipes through his cape. “Next time, can your buddies aim right and not ruin my stitch work? Kay, thanks.”

A gust of wind brushes across his back in a way that feels more like a reassuring pat on the back. Laughter rings through the sky, delighted in a sick way given the gruesome remains of the battlefield. Philza lands with a graceful flap of his wings.

“They fuck up your cape already? You worked so hard on it, too,” Phil laments, though with a teasing look on his face. Behind him, a man sprints toward the pair, but neither of them flinch. In swift motions, Phil tightens his grip of his sword handle, and strikes in the space under his armpit without even turning around. The sword pierces through the soldier’s abdomen. Phil’s smile doesn’t waver, and he continues to speak over the last blood-filled, guttural noises of the soldier in the snow, “Really inconsiderate of ‘em.”

“Exactly. See, these guys had it comin’.” 

Over a hill in the fair distance, Technoblade watches a crowd of men rallying, waving a banner that certainly does not proclaim the Antarctic Empire . Thereafter, the men descend down the hill, but the remains of the army splits slightly, attempting to take on the emperors in opposite directions. They look like ants from this far. Fitting. 

Phil casts a glance at the approaching armies. He clicks his tongue. “Alright, I'm just gonna say it. I’m almost glad these fuckers invaded us. There were, like, five meetings in a row planned today, and man, would that have sucked!”  

“Yeah, I dunno what we were thinking then, aside from ‘Ah, that’s future Technoblade and Philza’s problem!’,” Techno mutters as the faint roar of the crowd grows nearer. Their shoulders tense up, postures straightening. “Yeah, no, this is way more fun.” 

“Though the cleanup, not so much,” Phil says, lips pulled back in a grimace. Surrounding them is a macabre arrangement of corpses. Most of the snow has become a spectrum from pink-ish to the darkest of reds from the blood spilt like the rainfalls of hell. 

The battlecries of the approaching enemies has become thunderous, though Technoblade is not deterred for even a moment. The co-emperors bump shoulders, backs against one another. Phil’s wings spread wide, visible even in Techno’s peripheral, as black as the void Itself. Bloodstains that are most certainly not Phil’s marr the angel’s otherwise pristine feathers. They look as sharp as blades, ready to slice through delicate skin. Though their sharpness can only be matched with the ax in Technoblade’s clutches paired with Techno’s boundless strength.

One of the soldiers approaches, brave in the most foolish of ways. He screams, a sword raised to spear through Technoblade’s heart. Over his shoulder, he can hear the horrific screams of men falling at Philza’s behest. The man in front of Technoblade never makes so much as a dent in Techno’s armor.

Technoblade stands tall, intimidating to anyone who hasn’t seen him grumbling and with bedhead in the early morning. The soldier freezes, paralyzed like a prey caught in the clutches of a ruthless predator. 

Technoblade raises his ax, ready to strike into the poor man’s skull. He heaves it over his head in an arc and —

And Technoblade strikes the earth with his somewhat rusted hoe. He carves into the freshly raked dirt, dragging his tool until it forms a single neat line. The harsh sun beats down as he works, his head and face veiled by a sunhat the woman at the accessory shop in town offered to him on one of their first visits.

After quickly watering the freshly picked area, Techno kneels onto the grass. He picks out the tomato seeds he recently bought and sets them in a straight line down the drill. The earth is cool against his skin as he buries the seeds a bit. Dirt catches on his hooved appendages. It's refreshing, in a way. With a final pat, he flattens the dirt over the seeds, soothing over the coarse lines.

With the seeds prepared for growth, Technoblade sits back for a moment. He wipes the sweat dripping over his brow. There’s a serene warmth in the air, comforting but something he still needs to adjust to. The colder environments, the arctic, the tundra, they always called to him, like an instinct that leads you home. But here, the spring and summers are warm. The change is good, he thinks.

He brushes his dirt-caked hands over his patched up work pants. The rest of his crops are gradually growing, this early in the summer. The orange heads of the carrots are beginning to reveal themselves from the depths of the earth. The zucchini will take some time, as well, just planted earlier this week. Soon enough, though, the garden will thrive, and the thought alone is satisfying.

As he begins to stand, there’s a strain in his back. He arches his body to crack the tense muscles. As he stretches, somewhere in the corner of his vision, there’s a flicker of movement. He stiffens, and the voice immediately soar through his skull. Danger, danger, someone’s here! His heart thuds, blood pounding in his eardrums.

Before he can retrieve his ax, however, the sight of a small creature trotting across the top of the fence quells his nerves. He groans into his hand. A cat roams over his front yard so casually, without a care in the world. Like it owns the fence.

“Hullo,” he greets it automatically, despite never receiving a response back. 

It flicks its tail in response. Rude. 

He grabs a bowl from inside the house, fills it with water, and places it on the ground close to where the cat now comfortable sits. 

This same stray pops up now and again, just wandering the outskirts of town or sneaking inside buildings within town, as well. No one ever minds, as it never causes trouble. Though no one has laid claim on it yet, apparently.

It has black and white fur. Its front paws are pure white, and pure black for its back paws. 

With a slight pang in his chest, he wonders how Ranboo is doing. 

He hasn’t gotten the chance to see the kid since he was revived. All he knows is that Ranboo now lives in the depths of the Nether, living peacefully with his son.  I need to visit sometime, Technoblade silently declares. There’s a lot he needs to say, he feels. And maybe a hug or two is in order. 

But that’s for another day. For now, the rest of his plants call to him, begging to be watered lest the sun dry them up. He grabs the watering can and gets to work. 

❁❁❁ 

Among the swirling rational thoughts telling him against otherwise, despite the reminders from Technoblade, Philza still looks at the woman in her fifties standing on the other side of the counter with a sneer, and he thinks, I could take her in a fight.

Hey, it’s not his fault that the woman selling quality bread is scamming this town. Three loaves of bread for four emeralds! He’s certainly not going to put up with any of that. Even if she refuses to budge on her pricing. Even though no one else in town seems to have the same thoughts as he. 

But the market is crowded today, with many eyes ready to lock on if Phil starts anything. So he bites his tongue, and he keeps his arms to his sides. He takes the deal, grabs the bread, and walks away before she decides to raise the prices on him once more.

The bread was the last thing on their short list of food to grab from the market today. So it is when the town’s market is thriving most, crowds gathering to take great advantage of deals on food and trinkets, that Philza looks at the filled basket in his arm and thinks, Alright, I’m getting the fuck outta here before I get us banned from the market.

He was never one for crowds, never will be. His wings remain tightened against his back. Restraining them is like a chokehold sometimes, but he eventually maneuvers through the crowd of people. He just wants to go back home, in the middle of the woods with his best friend and with enough space to spread out his aching wings. 

Philza only stops when he comes across a cart selling pastries. The lady who owns the bakery stands behind the cart with a bored countenance. He forgets her name at the moment; he’s always been kind of shit at remembering names. Fresh looking muffins and pies, the sort, are sitting on the cart, begging to be sold.         

Every time he passes by the woman’s shop, he can’t help but think that Niki would enjoy the place, maybe even make improvements here and there, ever the determined. She’d have liked it here, maybe…

“Tilly, mind your manners!” 

Phil blinks. Behind him stands a sheepish little girl, who scurries behind the pastry counter. Before he can voice his confusion, the pastry woman clears things up. “Sorry, lad, we don’t see a lotta winged folk ‘round these parts, so she’s very interested in ya.” She shakes her head. “Not that that means you can grab a person’s feathers like that, Tilly. ‘S rude.” 

“S-Sorry!” a soft voice calls out.

And as the realization of what happened crashes down, Philza brushes it off with a wave and a laugh, trying to hide the disappointment settling in his stomach. Before, he had always been on top of watching over his back and everywhere else around him. No one ever approached his back and made it out alive unless he allowed it. And to think, now a kid can simply come up, pull at the feathers of his ruined wing, and he would’ve been none the wiser if her mother didn’t pipe up. 

It’s just a damn kid, relax, he tries to tell himself, because this is merely a mole he’s making a mountain out of, isn’t it? It’s nothing. It’s whatever.

At least the woman, who perhaps sensed his discomfort, offers him a deal on her treats if he buys anything, which he does. Some blueberry muffins and some danish pastries. Sweets weren’t on the list for today, but, well… fuck it.

“Saw you ready to deck it out with Beatrice earlier,” says the pastry woman with a smirk as he turns to leave. “Careful, she packs a mean punch. I’m not saying she could take you in a fight, but…”

“Oh, my god,” Phil says, losing the fight with himself to contain a grin. He snickers. “Please don’t tempt me. We wanna make a good impression around here. You know, not cause trouble or anything."

The woman’s smile becomes more genuine. “Don’t worry about that. You and the pig lad seem like good folk. Town’s certainly talkin’ a bit, but rest assured, it’s plenty of good word bein’ spread.”

The assurance isn't needed, but Phil gives her a kind smile anyway. With a nod, Phil leaves with an overflowing basket, and he walks out of town just before the sun begins to set.

Down the road, a crow soars by, calling out with a low caw, calling out to him. He slows to a stop and watches the bird glide by. It flaps its wide yet dirty feathers as it flies toward a nearby tree for landing… only to smack directly into a branch with a much louder thud than Philza thought possible.

“Jesus christ!” Phil exclaims, hiding his shock-filled laughter behind his fist. 

The bird catches itself in the air before it can fall to the ground and further add to its embarrassment. Philza approaches to the bird and offers his arm for perching purposes, rather than letting the bird risk another rough landing. 

“Dumbass,” Phil mutters to it with a teasing glint to his eyes. Upon latching its claws on Phil's cloth, the bird’s feathers fluff up, but the bullying is cut short. There's a note tied to its leg. Phil meets its beady little gaze. “What’cha got there?”

Unsurprisingly, its caws give him no helpful answers. He takes the note without another thought, opens it, and immediately stills when he peeks at the bottom. The name of the writer sits clear in the corner, in messy, cursive scrawl.

Wilbur. 

A nervous smile catches on his lips. A tense feeling settles in his gut, his stomach twisting like he had taken in an expired meal. He tries to swallow it down, tries to reassure himself. After all, the letter doesn’t start out with anything like Fuck you or Never talk to me again, asshole, so that’s good, right? Things are better now. There's no reason to assume the worst. 

“You talked it out,” he reminds himself out loud. The crow chatters, as if in agreement. “Things are okay between you again.” Well, they’re starting to be, Phil mentally adds. Still, he collects his breath. 

He’s still a bit away from home, but he can’t even think of letting this letter sit in his pocket unread for even a bit longer. So he begins to read the letter proper.

Hey, Philza. Dadza. Father Minecraft!

Anyway, I wanted to write just to (there’s some unintelligible words scratched out in pen) I don’t know. Catch up, I guess? It’s been a few weeks, hasn’t it? It doesn’t feel like it. My sense of time’s become a bit fucked since limbo, I guess. Haha

I’ll be honest, not much has happened since we were last in touch. It was nice to have you visit, by the way. Still working the same job, still friends with the same people. Nothing extraordinary going on. A part of me can't stand it. Like, I want to do something, you know? B ut I think this is what I need. Somehow. I can’t explain it. Maybe some day it’ll make sense. 

I hope you’re doing alright. Technoblade, too. I’d like to visit in the future. Not soon, but I don’t know, whenever I’m ready. I got to know where the two retired Syndicate members are hiding out this time. Hopefully Techno will stick around long enough for me to visit. I’d like to speak with him. I never got the chance to before shit went down on the server, after all. We got to make amends, but it doesn’t feel like enough, you know? 

Wilbur

Phil sighs and folds the letter back up. He’ll need to grab a pen upon his return home. Though he knows it’ll take him all night to come up with the right words, not wanting to step over any invisible lines or say something stupid that will ensnare around Wilbur's mind like barbed wire. But this is better than he had expected. At least he wants to visit, right? That’s a good thing. 

Hopefully Techno will stick around long enough for me to visit. 

It had always been a joke between them, when Wilbur was younger. Technoblade would stay in town for a few months, then vanish come next morn when he was lured by the need to crush tyranny underneath his worn out boots, or even some espionage a nearby country asked of him. Wilbur had always expressed some form of disappointment when Technoblade was gone for weeks on end, traveling and finding adventure and fun elsewhere, but Philza in turn always reassured his son that he’d return soon. And he always did.

That didn’t make his absence any less disheartening. 

And maybe Technoblade will hear those calls again and go running. Philza can't blame him one bit. How long is Technoblade meant for retirement, after all? It’s just a shame that Phil can no longer trail alongside Technoblade, should he find adventure calling to him once more. No longer could he follow like his friend’s shadow, ready to lunge like a monster unleashed. His wings have become more of an obstacle, more of a distraction, than a favored weapon. His right leg aches when storms arise. He even relies on his cane to hold him steady on the worst of days.

Philza is not suited for the battlefield. Not as well as he used to. And he has accepted this, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. 

With a somber huff of breath, Phil scratches the top of the crow’s head. “Thanks, mate,” he says before heading back home. He needs to hurry. He’s got a letter to write back, and of course, dinner is soon.

⛯⛯⛯  

Technoblade is finishing moving the extra bale of hay into the horses’ stables that they built on Phil’s side of their set up when Philza makes his presence known. The fence gate creaks as he enters the stables, the basket clutched in his arm filled to the brim.

“Hey, mate,” he says, pushing the gate shut and walking up to his horse. There’s a gentle smile on his face as he pulls out an apple from the basket. His horse snatches it up within seconds, churring noises of content. On the other side, Technoblade’s horse lets out a haughty snort. “Yeah, I’ll get to you, too!”

“Don’t let him feel left out, Phil. I hear horses carry grudges.”

Phil lets out an amused snort and walks over to Carl’s stable. His wings are fully extended, though dragging a bit against the ground. Surely he’ll complain about the dirt that has caught in his feathers the next time he preens. Though, thinking back on their time in the Dream Essempi, Phil had almost always kept them locked securely to his back as if they were chained up, all tense and hidden away from the rest of the world. Too easy for enemies to grab and use to their advantage, Philza had said at one point. So it's nice to see them compared to those days, messy or otherwise. 

“You’re right on time. Food’s just coolin’ off. Made salmon with potatoes and broccoli,” Techno says, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. The window is open, letting the scent of the cooked food drift into the air.

Phil’s face splits open with a smile. His fingers brush through Carl’s mane. “Niiiice, man, smells incredible,” he says. He pats the top of the basket. “I got extra sweets while getting everything else. They weren't on the list, but hey, I was definitely needing this after today.”

“Oh, no, what’d you do?”

Phil sputters. “Bruh! Why’re you assumin’ I’m the problem here?” he asks, feigning offense at the statement. His smile gives him away. “For all you know, I could be the lowly victim in this situation.” 

“Alright, so was it Beatrice again?” Technoblade asks without missing a beat. 

And the way Phil’s nose scrunches up gives Techno the answer he needs. “Honestly, most of the trip was fine. Great, really. But no, I didn’t start a brawl with her in the middle of the market or anything—”

“I literally didn’t even accuse you of that. That just sounds like a self-admittance, really—”

“Okay, so I almost wanted to start a fight with her today, but I didn’t! But the woman who makes the pastries says that she has a mean right hook or something, so maybe it’d be a worthwhile fight,” he finishes with a shrug, as if to say, Why not?

To which Technoblade, well, he can think of at least several reasons.

But still, Techno snorts in amusement, despite his best efforts to keep it in. How Philza, the Angel of Death, has found an opponent in an elderly bread woman, he’ll never know. “Phil, ya tell me some iteration of this story every week, and at this point, I’m expecting her to snap one day and stand by your bedroom door with a chainsaw. Maybe don’t ban us from the bread lady’s market stand, if you can help it. She makes good bread. We like the good bread.”

“Dude, she tried to sell me three loaves of bread for four emeralds! What is that shit?” Phil exclaims in defense of himself. “I’d expect the bread to start doin’ tricks if they’re that expensive, holy shit. She’s puttin’ on a big fuckin’ scam here. If she starts shit again, I’m starting a riot. Savin’ this town from overpriced bread.”

“You’re a true hero, Philza Minecraft,” Technoblade says as they begin to walk back inside his house. He pries through Phil’s basket for a blueberry muffin for a quick bite before dinner. They're a bit too sweet. 

Phil snorts, but as a thought seems to cross his mind, the laughter builds. His shoulders tremble in tandem with his laughter. “Ohhh, my god…” he breathes out between fits of giggles, a hand brushing over his face and coming through his messy hair.

“And oh, how the hero falls into madness so quickly,” Techno narrates with dramatic flair, hand over heart and all.

“Oh, fuck off,” Phil waves him off, his laughter dying down. With a drawn out sigh, he holds open Technoblade's front door. “Just, y’know… retirement’s weird, mate.”

Techno briefly shoots him a look. “You’re telling me,” he whispers in agreement. 

It’s only been a few weeks, not even two months, since they arrived in the outskirts of this insignificant town. It doesn’t feel real sometimes. He swears some days that he’ll wake up the next morning, and when he looks through the window, a permanent winter will embrace the area, and across the way will be a country ruined by his hands. 

But there’s not a country or even a simple town in any nearby vicinity that has been the victim of his destruction. He hasn’t brought any countries to their knees since L’manberg. And it has been well over a year since then, though it feels like lifetimes ago. He feels like a different person since those days. Everything feels different. And that can be a good thing, right?

“How’s the muffin?”

Techno hums. “Good… but they’re not as good as Niki’s, though,” he says, because nothing could compare to the firestarter’s skills. Last they had heard from her, she had found a place to call home on another server, not anywhere near here. But she had sounded content, at peace despite their prior circumstances. Though the Syndicate has been scattered across worlds and landscapes, they’re all happy.

“... Yeah,” Phil says with a forlorn smile. 

At least, he hopes they are.

❁❁❁ 

The chair creaks under his weight as he sits. Phil hands Technoblade a thin blanket as his own sits comfortably across his lap. It’s not terribly cold out, even this late in the evening, but it’s such common practice between them, to sit outside in the middle of the night, warm drinks in hand and swathed in blankets to keep warm. Who is he to break the tradition now, even if they have found shelter in newer, warmer lands?

“Thanks,” Techno mutters, and in turn, hands Phil the cup of coffee he requested.

He never teases Phil for his choice of drink when the sun has long since set. After all, the answer has always been the same:  sleep still doesn’t come easy to Phil anyway. Hasn’t in months (years, really). So with a silent nod in thanks, Phil cups the drink in his hands, the warmth curling into his fingertips.

In the distance, the lights in town are dim. Most of the town is in deep sleep with the exception of a few buildings, likely a tavern or your common night owl working among the resting. Above the, crows perch atop both of their roofs, muffled caws breaking the silence.  

“Wilbur wrote me earlier,” Phil says. He takes a sip of his coffee. He can feel the caffeine already kicking in.

“Oh, yeah?” Techno asks, interest piqued. They left on okay but still uncertain terms, after all. “What’d he say?”

“Ahh, y’know, he’s getting used to living in Utah again. And he’s wanting to visit. Not right now, but in the future, he’d like to.” Phil opts out of mentioning a few details from Wilbur’s letter for his own sake, though he does add, “He mentioned you, actually. He wants to catch up with you.”

Techno pauses, eyebrows furrowed slightly. “You know, that’d be nice, actually. Though, uh, you think he’s actually coming by, hoping to find out that we’re secretly still committing war crimes under the guise of retirement?” he asks, a tiny smirk twitching on his lips. 

Phil snorts behind his fist. “You know, he did mention the fact we’re Syndicate members, so that’s not off the table. ‘S not like we even have anything to hide, so he won’t come up with anythin’!”

“Nothing but vegetables and you feuding with the elderly in town.”

Phil bursts out laughing, because the truth is a funny one. After finding a new home to reside in, they had planned to do just that:  retire. There were no secret conspiracies hidden in their pockets, no destruction blueprints spread out in a table in the basement. Nothing of the sort. The ex-emperors of the Antarctic Empire, the co-founders of the Syndicate, have essentially retired.

Silence settles after a moment, allowing Philza a chance to really take it all in. Even after a few weeks of taking up residence outside of this nothing town, the realization still throws him off at times. They survived the worst parts of the other server, scarred and broken and a bit sleepless. And now they’re just… here. And Techno tends to a garden that will prosper with time. And on his side, he keeps their horses stationed in a safe stable, and the horses are sleeping soundly. Maybe he can start planting flowers in his yard, liven up the place. 

There are no thieves in the night, no greedy hands pilfering Technoblade’s hard work. No, this town seems to mind its own damn business so long as you mind your own. It’s a simple town, with simple people who simply want to enjoy life day-by-day.

Everything is so fucking… simple. 

It’s jarring. 

“You ever feel like you’re just… waiting for something to come and… ruin it?”

Spurred from his thinking, Phil casts Technoblade a concerned look, a brow raised. It seems that they were sharing the same train of thought. “Like what?” Phil asks anyway.

Technoblade shrugs, not meeting his gaze. “Call it whatever. Karma, revenge, what have you. Just one person showing up—”

“Not like they’d do anything. Not against us,” Phil interrupts him, though not unkindly. He sits cross-legged in the chair. The next drink of his coffee soothes his soul. “What, they gonna take a knife and stab your rutabagas?”

“Not the rutabagas, Phil. What’d they do to you?” Techno asks, feigning an aghast look.

Phil grins. “Don’t worry, man, we’ll get used to it. The whole retirement thing. We-we’re fine out here.” His thumb feels over his cup. “Though I gotta say, I’m a little surprised you’re embracing it so much. Just a little.”

One of Techno’s brows rises. “I dunno, man, you’ve always been the more antsy type. You and your bird instincts.”

“True, true,” Phil concedes with a nod, “but look, loo, you’re always off, traveling and fighting off evil governments and shit. You’ve always had a busy schedule. For fuck’s sake, you missed the server exploding cause of a mission someone gave you!” When he looks down, his coffee cup is empty. His brow twitches, and he forces out a chuckle. “I'm just saying, I’m sure you’ll be gone, beheading shitty corrupt assholes by next month.”

Technoblade doesn’t answer right away, humming as if in thought. Phil internally cringes. What if Techno already has plans to leave soon, even as early as next week? He'll encourage his friend to take the opportunity, but Phil, selfishly, would rather not endure retirement alone... 

“I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon,” Technoblade finally says before Philza can spiral and think over the worst case scenario. When Phil looks at him, Techno stares far off into the forest that looms over the town. His posture slouches. “I’m kinda tired, y’know? And I’ll never admit it to anyone else, but I’m getting older, Phil. Not like I’m going anywhere anytime soon, but I can feel it some days.” He rolls his shoulder. “Definitely can’t swing the ax like the olden days. Not as cool as I used to, at least. ‘Cause, wow, did I love showing off a lot.”

“Aww, mate, you’re still cool,” says Phil, bumping his shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re still terrifyin’ with that ax.”

Techno’s smile grows, but it doesn't match the far off, thoughtful look in his eyes. “I mean, sure, I enjoy traveling sometimes. But really, I like the quiet, the peace, and, you know, being able to breathe without a knife at my neck if I turn the wrong corner,” he finishes in a quieter voice, scratching the nape of his neck. He clicks his tongue. “The voices aren’t even as bloodthirsty as they used to be, I think.”

“Really?”

“Ayup—okay, okay,” Techno retracts with a swift gesture of his hands, “there’s, like, a few smaller voices that sometimes go, ‘Bruhh, go back to the violence, we’re getting bored of this arc here!’” He shrugs. “But I just ignore it. It’s gotten easier to ignore, actually, ‘cause y’know, it’s not what I really want.” He distractedly pulls as a loose string of his sleep shirt. “Maybe I’ll go back and kick the face of some dumb politician, buuut right now, I just wanna relax.” 

“Yeah, you deserve it, after all the shit you went through,” Phil says with a quiet smile. 

Techno’s hand cards through the fur atop his head, but Phil can see the way his appendages freeze momentarily over the gold-lined scar striking down his skull like lightning. “Yeah, looking back… wow that was a lot.” Though Techno manages to belt out a chuckle, it sounds forced, almost like an afterthought.  

Phil, too, lets out a nervous laugh. “Dude, shit was fucked in there.” He weighs his empty cup from one hand to the next. The feeling of the feathers on his back is more prominent. “Got my fucked up wing, my fucked up leg. I can’t fight like the old days, but you’re way better off than me there, so at least you have that,” he adds with a snort, nose scrunched. “I dunno if I’ll be able to join you if you ever leave. Fuck, man, I’d just drag you down—”

“Nooooooo,” Techno cuts him off, placing his hand over the top of Phil’s head, which gets a snort-filled snicker out of Philza, “Stop. You’re doing that thing, Phil. Just stop talking—”

With a smirk, Phil smacks Techno’s hand off of his head. “Fuck’s sake, Techno, you know I’m right—”

“Actually, it’s me who’s always right. But you’re getting old, so I can see where the confusion lies—”

“You really think I can stick by you in battle nowadays without something going to shit? Really?" Phil asks, voice ripe with doubt. 

Technoblade’s face lights up as an idea strikes him like lightning. “We haven’t sparred in a while. We got too busy settling in. I’d hate for us to be rusty, so…” And he’s already standing up, drawing back his shoulders to stretch the muscles with a slight crack. “And maybe then I can convince ya that you’re still good enough to join me on the battlefield.” 

“Right now?” Phil asks with a surprised scoff, but his smile widens. He begins kicking the blanket from off of his lap, discarding it to the floor. “In the middle of the night?” 

“Eh, sure, why not?” Techno response, and well, Philza has nothing to retaliate against that. 

In the end, Technoblade and Philza stand in front of their yards, swords at the ready. Light bleeds out from the lanterns hanging over the fence doors, casting yellow over the dim area. Though the rest of the world lays quiet, the silence is about to be devastated by the sounds of battle and laughter. 

When they lunge and weapons clash, there are genuine smiles on both of their faces.  

[nomsfaultau]

Au body switches :DD

One of the sbi people wake up to be in the body of their counterpart in another au for a day!

A mortal in the body of a god in Minecraft/medieval era!

A god in the body of a mortal in modern times!

Fault!Phil in place of Where Lamb Wolves Near(?) Phil, making everyone an imposter in the pretend family! Nothing will go wrong trust

Also oooohhh what animal best symbolizes the strengths of each of the fault crew if it's okay with you,,,,they're just really interesting and complex characs and would love to know more about them ^^

already have the animals one in this text post right here!!

Alright let’s pit a dark sbi fic bs one where it hella sucks but they’re only mildly toxic. Recap for anyone who needs it: Fault au is a band of monsters on the run from the scp Foundation, Philza is an immortal dragon and has murder problems but is mostly chilling. The Lambs Wolves Wear has Philza trying to survive by pretending to be a Good Father for the monsters that stole/killed his children and replaced them. He is being abused and is hanging on by a thread.

Lambs:

Well, almost immediately it would be very clear that Fault!Philza (Fhilza from here on) is simply not human. Which kinda breaks a lot of things. “Techno” and “Tommy” are specifically using his humanness as covers for their goals. Also “Tommy” and “Wilbur” latch onto The Lambs Wolves Wear!Philza (Philambs) and are going to be furious about him getting yoinked. “Tommy” might come around if Fhilza fills his affection needs, but “Wilbur” is specifically obsessed with Philambs and would NOT handle it well at all. 

While Philambs is ungodly kind and unendingly patient, Fhilza is a lot more likely to call the monsters out on their crap. He’s just not going to put up with the same things Philambs does. So, shutting down “Tommy’s” physical abuse like immediately, banning “Wilbur’s” truth compulsion/glamour things. Potentially he is a great resource for untangling their particular traumas. However… I’m not sure he’d care much for the imposters. They aren’t his kids. Neither are the real children, too, but specifically the imposters are designed to be uncanny resemblances to sbi that just aren’t them in crucial ways. And Fhilza would immediately clock that and decide they aren’t his problem. He’ll be polite, maybe give them some advice, but the moment they start causing problems he’s not dealing with that. He’s far more stern than Philambs and just. Isn’t going to get abused by these random punks that only vaguely look and act like his Collected. While he could be a strong force to help the imposters figure out their issues and get the therapy they need…their mental health isn’t really his responsibility, especially if they replicate some of their toxic behavior with Philambs. Fhilza’s main priority is getting back to his real Collected and trying not to unravel at the seams at the possibility of having lost them. It depends on how long he’s in the au, bc long term there’s a high chance he’ll latch onto the closest pathetic rat of a child he can find in order to keep his life together. However unless the imposters get their crap together enough it’s not gonna be them because, again, Fhilza won’t tolerate abuse. Fhilza adjusts well to being in medieval times again, and says muffin it and just walks into town as a clear dragon demon!? That’s a demon get it! and just shrugs off holy water or whatever while shopping. Potentially an arc where the town learns to accept monsters that behave, the imposters integrate into the community, happy ending. 

“Techno” is annoyed, but has no investment in Fhilza, and is relieved to not have to live in fear of Philambs betraying them. Far more comfortable in an all-monster house, potentially sees Fhilza as a source of training. Possibly Fhilza gets them to take better care of their body, but Fhilza is notoriously a bit of a hypocrite on that front. Could teach them what ptsd is, which is a godsend. Fhilza considers Technoblade to be the Collected of “Technoblade” and prods them to be a better Collector. Can connect on the dying really sucks part.

“Tommy” is angry that Fhilza isn’t a push over, and probably would try to turn it into a fight. Fhilza would oblige, not really impressed by the demon, though not inclined to kill. After getting thermally trounced, “Tommy” reverts into a more submissive/fawning situation where he’ll do anything to appease the ‘greater demon’ until Fhilza snorts, says that’s deeply muffined up and "Tommy” should get some self respect. Less ‘showing the abuse survivor love for the first time’ arc and more ‘telling them bluntly that wasn’t normal and he better knock it off with the might makes right bullmuffin’. Given how achingly familiar Fhilza is with a world where the powerful are powerless against systemic oppression, he finds it particularly stupid. 

“Wilbur" does not handle it well at. all. Does not enjoy the taste of his own medicine with the loved one being taken by a doppelgänger thing. Plus the whole complex about Philambs being the only one that will ever truly love him does..not go great. At first allies very strongly with Fhilza on the ‘trying to get back’ part, which Fhilza really appreciates! But as it seems like there’s nothing they can do, “Wilbur” starts asking more and more questions about Fhilza’s life, drawing out truth with his power. Starts acting more and more like scpilbur, eventually taking its form. Because the only way “Wilbur” knows to be loved is to be someone else. Which Fhilza finds completely horrific and creepy. So that bridge crashes and burns. 

Overall, no one is happy with this change. Well, except “Techno.” He has a difficult relationship with Philambs, and happily returns to having trust issues.

Fault:

As for Philambs…instant panic attack as he’s suddenly surrounded once more with monsters, except this time he’s the imposter. Plastered smile, trying to be kind but he’s terrified and surrounded by openly horrific creatures that are nothing like the imposters he was maybe beginning to accept. Maybe he even goes for the Fhilza mask, trying to pretend be him with 0 knowledge, pouncing on a mention of amnestics without really knowing what’s happening but sure memory loss is so convenient! Yep that’s definitely what happened why is no one convinced..? Oh he’s a demon in this version of reality fantastic absolutely fantastic. Admits he’s not sure what’s happening or where he is, but he mistook them for his own monster children. …why did everyone flinch? 

And Philambs is crazy good at masks by now, is convincingly good at being confused and polite and only wanting these poor people to get their real father back but- well. The Blade can hear his heart going a mile a minute, and him and Tubbo can smell the feel of fear. Even as he smoothly denies it, eventually the pressure causes him to crack. Philambs completely breaks down because pretending to be a father was his only way to survive. The façade was all that was keeping him together. And now there’s nothing. No way for him to save himself, save his kids.

Veeeery awkward for everyone else, especially the hints that this guy is super anti monster. But they don’t really try to force him to be Fhilza. Like they have problems but they aren’t that extreme. They accept him into the group kinda, mostly since he’s a prime target for the Foundation. They miss Fhilza like crazy but the new guy is fairly different and blatantly doesn’t know them and isn’t keen on making friends with more people that only look like his kids. He does have some useful knowledge tho, and is down to not get skewered by pitchforks (what in Prime’s name is a gun??) by the mob hunting them down. Fault crew doesn’t really have the time or safety to try and fully investigate the swap, and without Fhilza’s firepower they have to be extra cautious to avoid the Foundation. Plus, The Blade can get summoned too and they found him last time so maybe it’ll work out?? Everyone continues to have their own respective personal issues, although Tommy swaps out ‘I’m terrified of Fhilza abandoning me again’ for ‘he has’, and Tubbos’ despising Fhilza problem is neatly solved.

Philamb is terrified of the monsters no matter what they say, because he’s been dealing with illusions for a long time. But there’s nowhere else to go in the middle of nowhere, and he’s piecing together that the world beyond would be incomprehensible to him. Clothing, tools, packaged food, it’s all foreign to him. He doesn’t know where else to go, and if the Foundation doesn’t show up and start a fight he might begin to ease a little. But Philambs keeps a watchful eye on weaknesses he notices. At times Philambs very automatically slips back into the fatherly affection/advice/support mode that kept him alive, but abruptly stops. It scares him a lot, the thought of slipping back into a lie. He refuses to share his thoughts with the group, is quiet more often than not, but he’s allowed to be honest in a way he previously wasn’t. Not constantly controlling his expressions, reactions, words is a great relief. 

Philambs tries to gravitate towards Tommy and Wilbur because they look the most human, but Wilbur kinda despises him for being human, albeit torn bc that’s kinda my dad but not?? The monster comments dig under its skill. Plus Philambs is not nearly as great an asset to their survival. Weird for Tommy too since usually Fhilza is this strong pillar of support and this guy is kinda a wreck. The Blade is very uncomfortable to now have a second person in the group that’s terrified of him, and he didn’t even disable this one! Tubbo actually starts to get along tho, happy to find out Philambs is actually not a scary mass murderer and also agrees on the not attacking people bit. Plus from Philambs pov this stranger isn’t trying to be like one of his kids at all. Quietly, Tubbo offers to take Philambs with them when they decide to run from the group. And since they now have someone who can carry them out, their plans jump up far sooner. Without Fhilza, Tommy is slightly less tied to the group.

So, when Fhilza does eventually get back, the group is rather fractured and on fire. Philambs is devastated to be back in his home story, and potentially gets killed bc he’s forgotten how to gaslight gatekeep girlboss. 

[zeta-in-de-walls]

So Tommy has always struggled with the idea of either being the hero or becoming a villain.

Early on, he was actually excited, he wanted to be seen as a hero who can save the day. He was young and eager to be taken seriously and hungry for some glory.

But things changed. Wilbur would one day suggest to Tommy that they should be the villains. This horrified Tommy who could then not stop Wilbur's descent into villainy where he would of course blow up L'Manburg.

Over the course of his season 2 arc he struggles with both ideals, struggling under the burden of being a hero and fearing that he was doomed to follow Wilbur's path. And he gets very close to the latter after he's isolated and considers blowing up the server as well before rejecting it entirely and choosing Tubbo. He never gets near to that point again.

So, having rejected villainy is he doomed to follow Dream's script and play the hero in Dream's game? Disc finale comes and he confronts Dream so maybe he is forced into the role.

Now however, Tommy's been trying to take a third option because he doesn't want the responsibility. He wants to be out of the spotlight. He'll be neither.

So Tommy does nothing. And he waits.

All throughout the series, Tommy has longed for someone to guide him. He wants to follow someone else's lead, whether it be Wilbur or Dream or Technoblade or even Philza if he'd let him. But that's never worked out.

As Tommy says to Tubbo, they're not kids anymore. They can't run from responsibility. If Tommy hides away, he's never going to be happy. No one else is going to take care of Dream for him if he does nothing.

And as much as he hates the burden of responsibility he also knows no one else is going to save him. They're not kids anymore and they'll never get those days back.

So Tommy makes a plan himself. Because at the end of the day, he's willing to fight for his happiness. It doesn't matter how others label him.

[writing-oof]

I’m a Farmer, Not a Babysitter (oops)

Day Two: Potato Farmer Technoblade! He’s certainly a dude!

I ended up with two stories I couldn’t pick from in the thirty minutes, so here they are!

Farmer Techno (tw: Wilbur is dead)

"This is about Wilbur?" Technoblade asks.

"Yes," the social worker says, "We've tried to get in contact with your father, but we couldn't reach him."

"What's wrong?"

"We do our best to keep families together, Mr. Craft," the woman says, "We wanted to see if Philza has any interest in taking custody of Fundy, as his mother has denied it."

"Who?" Techno asks, and the phone is silent for a beat too long.

"Wilbur Soot's son?"

Techno bluescreens/

"Wilbur doesn't have a son," he says, but really he wouldn't know. Wilbur wasn't exactly showing up to the family reunions. Neither was Techno, for that matter.

"He did," the woman says, and that's that.

---

The farm isn't really suited for a kid.

There's dangerous experiment around every corner, and the chickens have already tried to peck Fundy to death, sniffing the fox under his skin. Fundy, still the weirdest kid Techno's ever met, decided he loved them almost immediately after that, and he hasn't stopped trying to break into the coop since.

Technoblade's lucky that Ranboo was looking to take more hours around the farm, milking the cows and mucking the stables and tending the crops more in that first week than he probably ever has in his life.

Fundy isn't old enough for him to leave unsupervised, especially since he's prone to turning into a fox and squirming through the hole under the baseboards in the kitchen like a snake.

Ranboo's a godsend those first few weeks, taking up the bulk of the labor around the farm and still making time to entertain Fundy for a few hours while Techno makes dinner and tries to figure out what the hell he's supposed to do now.

He's not a dad, and he never wanted to be one. There's a reason his only contact with kids was the schoolkids who came by to milk cows twice a month.

Fundy needs so much that Techno just doesn't know how to provide. He cries, sometimes, and Techno tries to comfort him as best as he can. He makes Fundy's room the safest space in the house and fills it with everything Fundy wants, from toys he saw on their four-channel-television, to photos of the parents he'll never see again.

It gets easier as the weeks draw on and Fundy talks to him more, tells him stories about his life with Wilbur before they lost everything. Techno listens, comforts when he needs to, and does his best to make his house a home.

But, as the month draws to a close, the summer slipping by in a blur of grief and fireworks, Techno's reminded that he's going to have to get back to the farm. Ranboo has school and, even if he didn't, Techno feels awful seeing how exhausted he is at the end of the day.

The farm's a big job, especially for a high schooler.

If Ranboo were any less worried about being alone with Fundy, he'd probably ask him to babysit instead.

As it is, Techno has to scour the area for anyone who would be willing to watch a hybrid kid on the outskirts of the city.

The first person he considers, a florist named Hannah, can't be away from the city for as long as he needs.

The next spends way too long comparing Fundy to the kind of foxes she shoots in the autumn for Techno to anything but throw her out of the house.

By the time he's met his fifteenth option, Technoblade has almost given up.

He asks Ranboo, just to see, if he knows anyone who'd be willing to watch a hybrid.

The next day, Technoblade has the most intense interview of his life.

…

Tommy hits it off with Fundy immediately.

In the thirty minutes he spends answering questions, Fundy's already declared him his uncle twice. It's an improvement, from the last sitter he tried to bite no less than four times.

…

Technoblade is pretty sure that Tommy isn't human.

He doesn't know how to bring it up, but his chickens have some sort of sixth sense for these things and they guard their eggs around Tommy like he's bound to snatch them up.

…

Tommy slots himself into their lives like he was always there.

Techno thinks that, if he were here, Wilbur would have called Tommy his little brother.

Instead, Technoblade calls him Theseus.

Instead, Technoblade sets up the third room for when Tommy doesn't want to bother heading back into the city.

Instead, Technoblade welcomes him home.

.

.

Fundy Thievery (tw: sad boi hours)

Two hours in and Fundy has to concede that it really *is* just a farm.

There's no secret room full of Wither skulls, or a chest full of weapons and totems.

There's a few hundred full of potatoes, though. Fundy grabs a few stacks to squirrel back to his den, the crow looking at him judgmentally.

Fundy flicks it off. It chortles, a mocking laugh, and settles into his hair.

When he reaches the treeline, the bird finally fucks off back to its nest, not following him home like he'd worried it might.

…

Fundy comes back the next day.

He doesn't want to. He wouldn't if he could avoid it, but he knows Techno has health pots somewhere and his arm still won't bend the way he needs it to.

He'd tried to shift only once, but he's pretty sure that only made it worse, a screaming pain from his elbow to his wrist.

So, stealing from his sort-of-uncle it is.

He's just lucky the dogs don't lunge for him, and that the crows seem content to keep their silence.

At least, no one's come tearing into his den with an axe, so he figures they haven't said anything, to Philza or to Techno.

[cdroloisms]

for me was always weird bc csapnap was on csbi's side? like yes for a time was with cdream but he helped ctommy to get the disks back and after cgeorge was no longer a king both he and cgnf were on their side agaist cdream and manberg like even if they take a step back for el rapis and on moment when he was ctommy's enemy was in the tower battle where he fought with ctechno and cdream on his side so ???? if it was cdream vs csbi i get it more but csapnap and cgeorge weren't csbi enemies or at least for very short time they were

neither were c!sbi even on c!sbi's side lmao like c!sbi as a unit doesn't exactly exist in the lore. c!sapnap's alliances with c!dream and c!tommy both were often tenuous and self-interested loooong before stuff with the spirit speech and exile--and c!sapnap and c!george worked with quackity and karl for the mexican lmanburg debates, but were largely uninvolved with NLM (save for c!sapnap fighting in doomsday). like, the dsmp has scarcely ever worked in terms of "two defined sides with no overlap" (like, the closest you're gonna get is probably the revolution and ONLY the revolution, conflicts were hardly that simple before the revolution either) and c!sapnap in particular has always been on the chaotic side while c!george was more known for a relative degree of disinterest (see: his not being involved in either nov 16th or doomsday). and in terms of c!sbi, i mean, a lot of what c!wilbur does throughout the story kinda goes pretty damn directly against c!techno's ideals (hence why techno was rather explicitly kept in the dark for a lot of pogtopia) and c!tommy and c!techno obviously had their split as well. c!george dislikes c!tommy while c!sapnap on the whole is friendly with him (but it's c!sapnap so of course he's gonna do shit like harass shroud lmao, mans was known as the pet killer for a Reason and the pet wars had a lot of sapnap and tommy being on opposing sides bc of each other), c!george has his "your technoblade" jealousy moment and iirc c!sapnap was nawt fond of c!techno either? i forget specifics abt that particular relationship tho. c!sapnap and c!george were never really on c!wilbur's side in any conflict...as opposed to c!dream, who was. and so on and so forth

[ruleofvee]

“And what do you want?” King Dream asks, the painted smile he wears unmoving.

Phil braces, laying a hand on the hilt of his sword. Dream’s guards stiffen. “I know you have Technoblade here,” he says. “I want him back.”

Dream doesn’t flinch - or if he does, it’s hidden by his mask. “Beat me in a duel,” he says, “and you’ll get him back.”

There’s nothing Phil can do but agree.

~=~

The sparring grounds are surrounded by people, all eager to watch the show. Phil can feel his feathers fluff up, ruffle, at so many gazes being layered upon him. An anxiety bubbles at the back of his throat, and he tries to scan the crowd, looking for, looking for - 

He thinks he sees a flash of pink, but it disappears as soon as he tries to chase it, and then he’s being led into the center of the field and he has to focus. Dream is saying something, and Phil needs all the information he can get.

“Citizens,” Dream begins, clearly a showman above all. “You remember our prisoner, Technoblade? Our esteemed guest who is decidedly not allowed to leave?”

So he is here. Phil’s heart clenches, and with that rises a cool determination, to win. To win for Techno. Techno, who could be in a dungeon at this very moment, rotting away in the cold and the dark - but today he comes home. Phil will make sure of it. 

“Well, today we meet his savior,” and Phil can hear the grin in Dream’s voice. “Phil. If he wins in a duel against me, Techno will be freed, and will get to go home. Otherwise, Phil will die.”

Die. He doesn’t remember agreeing to that term. But, but, there are many things Phil will do for Techno, and he is the best. He is the Angel of Death. 

He can do this.

Phil raises his sword, and braces.

~=~

He can’t do this. 

Dream is a wildfire, a dancing devil, attacking Phil from all corners, giving him no quarter, feinting and lying like he breathes to trip Phil up. And Phil, Phil, is crumbling. He is crumbling and falling and Dream is going to kill him - 

A swipe from Dream’s blade, and Phil’s own goes flying. A sword to his throat, a cold line separating him from death. The end. Phil closes his eyes - 

And then a voice, a voice he knows, screaming, screaming, “Phil!”

Phil opens his eyes to a blur of pink and green. 

~=~

Techno is not a better fighter than Phil.

He knows this. Phil knows this. They are, if anything, evenly matched - but Techno will always insist Phil is just that much better than him. There is no debate of an advantage.

Except now, because Techno knows Dream in a way Phil never will.

He knows Dream’s favorite tricks, favorite lies, knows how to read the way he carries himself, knows how to interpret the shifts in his balance and the huffs of his breathing. He knows Dream like the back of his hand, from duel after duel after duel after duel, beaten into his muscles and seared into his mind. Countless deaths on either side, countless respawns, and now, now - 

Now Techno is an expert musician, and Dream is his instrument. 

They dodge and lash and lunge in a flurry of steel and mocking words. Route memory at this point. But Techno can read a set to Dream’s shoulders and a lilt to his words.

There are consequences for interrupting the king’s duel, and Techno will pay the price.

And he does. Dream trips him, and Techno stumbles, and there’s a very deliberate, precise flash of steel - 

And Techno’s braid falls to the ground, sliced clean off.

Hair fills his vision, pink and fine. Techno parries, and lunges. His own blade strikes Dream neatly across the face, knocking his mask aside. Dream knows how important Techno’s hair is to him. It’s only fair to repay the favor by taking away something just as valuable.

Dream falters, instinctively moving to cover his face. Techno skewers him through the heart, and watches his body dissipate.

There is no death message. There is only silence, followed by the sound of a respawn. 

~=~

Dream’s verdict is that it is a tie. Neither he nor Phil won, and so neither have to pay a price. He announces this with a lofty air, mask resettled on his face. The people are restless, but accepting.

Techno stands at his side, and does his best to ignore the way Phil is staring at him.

You wouldn’t understand, Phil, and the thought is made worse by the fact that it’s the truth.

(Techno just feels tired)

[lennjamin-o7]

Y'all have no idea how much I want to do a Twins Tower of God AU, but I resist and put it on my "to write" list.

The short of the AU would be Technoblade as Bam and Wilbur as Rachel.

The longer more detailed is that Wilbur found the Strange Boy locked away and he looked so much LIKE him, so he taught him how to read and how to survive and gave him a name. And when Wilbur went to the Tower because he knew he was Chosen for Greatness, Technoblade followed.

Just like the show, Wilbur was NOT chosen. Technoblade opened the door and Wilbur just fell through.

Wilbur does not handle that well.

Cue Techno trying to find his twin, but running into Philza (Khun's equivalent) in the first test. They team up with a bad mouthed kid who thinks he's better than Everyone named Tommy (Rak equivalent). They pass the tests together.

Techno runs back into Wilbur again and wants to know why he left him. Wilbur comes up with a bullshit lie that Techno sees through.

When it comes to the final test, where in Tower of God Rachel pushes Bam and everyone thinks Bam died, this would be slightly different. I would have Wilbur's and Rachel's motivations/knowledge be different.

Wilbur pushes Technoblade and assumes that Technoblade would be okay, not knowing about the plan by BLD (FUG equivalent) happens. Just being told he could push Techno out of the test. He would be fine. And then Wilbur will get to be the Main Character.

But Techno seemingly dies. And Wilbur is distraught. He didn't want Techno to get in his way but he didn't want him to die.

Unlike the OG series, Wilbur regrets and tells Phil and Tommy what happened. They are furious, but they grieve Techno together. Wilbur wants to make amends SOMEHOW. Philza and Tommy decide to climb the Tower with Wilbur (why? Idk, I just want it).

But, if you know Tower of God, you know Bam didn't die. Neither did Techno. He was caught by the Anti-Jerry's rule of the Tower group BLD. And trained to be their perfect weapon to take down the King of the Tower.

And that's all I got. I kind of want Skeppy and Bad to be a part of Team Sweet and Sour later. Ranboo as Wagnan would go HARD.

But yeah, that's all I really have. The amount of worldbuilding I would have to do for that AU would be INSANE. But its a nice thought to twist and turn in my brain.

[blockgamepirate]

Thinking about the fanfic post and the emduo royalty AUs again

Because if I were to actually write MCYT fanfic I think that would actually be something I'd like to explore

(I say as if I've never posted MCYT fanfic, but yknow, it barely counts)

Because I feel like there's interesting things you could do with that concept: how do emperors end up becoming anarchists? How can you write that and make it believable? (I do in fact have some ideas)

(Technically I did post a first chapter of what might have developed into this on AO3 but I don't think anyone actually read it lol)

(... I should probably check)

(Okay it has like 20 hits apparently, fair enough. It's not like I ever even promoted it in anyway lol)

I always felt like they weren't born into royalty, neither of them. That's just not the vibes at all. I think it's more like a Napoleon thing or like a Caesar thing where they started out as soldiers and became emperors. But then something caused them to become disillusioned and give up their power and in fact decide that nobody else should have power either.

That's kinda fascinating to me

It's very Diocletian vibes, although Diocletian obviously never became an anarchist or even an anti-authoritarian. But he did start out as a common soldier, he did end up appointing a co-emperor (actually three co-emperors) and he did eventually abdicate voluntarily and retire in the countryside to grow cabbages, something I'm pretty sure no other Roman emperor ever did. That's sorta my Technoblade headcanon. Just switch the cabbages to potatoes

Something about having the skills, ambition and drive to become the ruler of a mighty empire, only to then decide it's actually not your thing and deciding to make a career change to a farmer instead

(Except with the added step of becoming a revolutionary later)

I don't think Phil ever had the same kind of ambition, although he does seek glory in some sense. He does like to win and he does like to adhere to a certain kind of warrior's honour, even if he doesn't go into battle recklessly and he isn't too stubborn to retreat when necessary. Not only did he not hesitate for a second to follow Techno on his path to world domination but I'm also thinking of the way he fought the dragons to defend Endlantis, how he chose to face them head on and risk everything (rather than just keeping the chunks unloaded forever).

It's not the main driving force for him of course, his primary motivation is people (despite him being kind of a hermit) and that's really the main reason why he would follow Techno. But he does have a side of him that yearns for victory too. I think it's the challenge that he enjoys more than anything tbh.

But it makes sense why he wouldn't be too interested in power.