barbarism (dreamnoblade)

chapter seven

A/N

I had a random urge to write more and since this chapter is shorter I'm posting it earlier.

|||Technoblade POV|||
 
Tension fills the room with a dreary atmosphere, one heavy enough to weigh down on Technoblade as he sits athwart Wilbur. He feels eyes observing him, like a predator analysing prey.
 
Technoblade shuffles uncomfortably in his chair. He finds himself wishing he was at home, at least there he wouldn't have to worry about people in his house. He pictures himself farming right now, cooking a salad and feeding his horse, feeling a warm breeze and the gentle kiss of the morning sun.
 
Wilbur begins lightly drumming his fingers against the table and snaps him out of his daydream, feeling an increase in restlessness.

The slow but loud noise starts to trigger him, tap tap drip. He feels his skin crawl. From the corners of the room shadows begin to move. A sudden itch creeps up the back of his neck, phantom feelings of blood trickling down his cheek. Technoblade whacks the table with his fist to shut Wilbur up, glancing up to glare at him.

"Do you want to say something or will you keep staring at me?"
 
Wilbur continues to gaze at him, eyes devoid of any light. Dark eyebags blend with a deathly pale complexion, reminding Technoblade of a corpse, the disturbing thought lingers in his head.

‘I wonder what Wilby would look like as a rotting corpse?’

Not now please.

His brother skids back on his chair and stands up, slowly making his way over to Technoblade, "you don't actually believe any of the crap Schlatt tried to feed you right? He's just trying to win you over for more power, he's a liar and a manipulator."
 
"I can take care of myself Wilbur! It's not a big deal! I know he isn't 'concerned' about me," his lip trembles and his eyes narrow, "but sometimes it feels like you also don't care about me."

Wilbur growls and waves off his last statement. "Of course it's a big fuckin deal! Schlatt is our main target, you should be fighting him not conversing with him! How can I trust you if you keep talking to our enemies?"

He pushes himself up from his seat to get on eye level with Wilbur, "YOUR enemy! Maybe Schlatt was at least right about self respect, if you can't even give me a shred of trust why should I risk losing self control for an ungrateful brother?"

“It isn’t my fault you can’t control shit!” That hurt Technoblade more than he wants to admit.

“You want me just follow you around and stab whoever you want me too? Do I not get a say in this, Wilbur?!"
 
Technoblade feels his placid expression crumble as he struggles to keep his cool. The lamp dangling above them flickers momentarily, causing a tense ambience. He could barely recognise the person standing in front of him anymore.
 
"Technoblade, of course you get a say in this," Wilbur places a hand on his shoulder, words suddenly dripping with a sickly sweet tone, "I'm just trying to keep at least one of your relationships from failing."
 
He tenses and goes to swipe Wilbur's hand off himself, taking a step back and glaring. The sudden softness in his words immediately put him on guard.
 
"What the hell does that mean?" Wilbur smiles at his question, all previous evidence of anger evaporating.
 
"What it means is, we both know that you don't really have anyone else that cares about you." His smile feels sinister as he steps forward to match his pace, "I do though, you're a good brother to me. I understand you're just frustrated and stressed about our current situation."
 
Wilbur's eyes are now as dark as pools of oil, sinking him further into his own dark thoughts.
 
He pauses to actually consider Wilbur's words. Who really does care about him?

He has no one outside of his family, everyone fears him because of his past and fucked up mind, he could barely hold one fucking conversation. Just how much of his life will he live alone?

Dread fills his mind as Wilbur tugs him into a hug, it feels suffocating. He can't remember the last person besides Wilbur that has hugged him.
 
"The only reason Philza took you in is because of pity, we both know that-"
 
"P-please don't say his name." Technoblade can barely force the words out, his thoughts flash back to the schoolyard, to a crying Tommy grabbing at his shoulders- to the appetizing blood dripping down flesh-
 
"I'm sorry, I know Philza is an unpleasant word for you." Wilbur tightens his hold causing Technoblade to hesitate before hugging back. His eyes burn as the tears obscure his vision, he wants to cry, but nothing comes out. He feels broken. But Wilbur's words are oddly soothing. Like frozen water on a burn.
 
"Do you really care about me?" Technoblade manages to croak out, he hates how high and shaky his voice sounds.
 
"Of course, I will never love you out of pity. That's why I want you to listen to me, Technoblade, because I'm trying to help you."

His mind stops pacing, those words were all he wanted to hear. All he ever wanted was someone to love him, no pity, no fear or desire. But why can’t he get that warm feeling he had with Phi  l      z