Things That Need To Pass (passerine!Technoblade x OC) {COMPLETED}

The Finale

(3rd person POV)

It missed. Obviously. The Green God was a wickedly fast bastard, and Wilbur had barely been aiming—he had fired for the sake of firing, just to have his hands do damage to something that he hated instead of something that he loved. 

Dream danced easily out of harm's way, only to find the Angel of Death flying towards him, slashing out with a bloody dagger. Dream parried with Father's own sword and jumped back, and was met by Techno striking out with his trident. 

The Green God ducked and dodged under the Techno's barrage, each movement fluid like a candle dancing in the gentle air.

In the lull between Techno's attacks, Dream spun on his heel with his sword cleaving the space between the three of them. Father leapt backwards, but Techno dropped to the ground instead, sweeping his leg out in an attempt to trip their opponent. 

 The Green God jumped over him, just as Wilbur let another arrow fly, this time with every intention of embedding it straight through the pale column of Dream's neck.

But Dream simply grabbed the arrow out of the air, snapping it in half with this thumb and tossing it over his shoulder before he even landed back down on the snow. Techno scrambled to his feet to meet Dream's renewed offensive, but Wilbur could tell even from afar that his movements were sloppy and sluggish.

 Despite his posturing, the wounds Wilbur had inflicted on him had cut deep, and not a second went by without Wilbur remembering the way the blade had slipped so easily into Techno's back. Whatever he'd said of a god's invincibility, they still bled the same way mortals do.

Even now, Wilbur could feel the voices—the Green God's little spiders—lurking in the edges of his consciousness, just waiting for him to let his guard down again.

They only seemed to strike when Wilbur least expected it: when he was falling asleep or when he was caught in the tides of his own emotions. It explained how he'd been to places he didn't remember walking to, or witnessed things he shouldn't have, or done things he never would do when he was fully himself. 

He could still see Tommy's face in his mind's eye, trembling in his cot as Wilbur stood over him with a shard of glass.

Wilby, please, don't hurt me, he'd said then, the same way Techno had whispered, It's alright. It is not your fault. Too many times had Wilbur been used against the people he loved the most. Tommy. Techno. His kingdom. His father. All to serve the Green God's ends. 

Puppets on a string, all of them were. But if Dream wanted him to dance, then Wilbur was going to give him one hell of a closing act.

He was running low on arrows, and the gods were moving too fast for his mortal eyes to catch, so he threw both bow and quiver away. He rushed towards where his rapier sat in the snow, its intricate pommel glinting in invitation. 

The weapon slipped easily into his hand. It was an extension of his fury, and they joined the fray together.

Techno had almost forgotten how well he and Philza fought together. They slipped into old, familiar rhythms—like the ebb and flow of the ancient ocean. The years fell away, and Techno was back in one of the myriad battlefields they'd decimated when they were younger and more foolish. 

Philza struck when Techno withdrew, and Techno stepped between Philza and the enemy when he struck back, taking the brunt of the attack with the silver shaft of his trident. It rattled him down to his bones, but the jolt was a welcome rush, making Techno grin despite the screaming pain of his fresh wounds.

Why was it that Techno felt most alive when he was fighting off death?

The Green God must have seen the gleam in his eyes, because he stepped away from Techno with a knowing smirk.