Butterfly Reign | Dream SMP & Remarried Empress fusion

Ch29. Don't need happiness to be mine

He soon came to hate that word. A ghost. The second most favorite taunt on the lips of children who sought Techno's looks to be a mocking matter (the first one was a freak, but Techno shut that one down altogether). They would toss witty remarks at a volume clearly meant to reach him, shoving him and writing it off as an accident if adults cared enough to notice. Things small, minor on their own, piled up like bee stings into an overall miserable experience.

Grown-ups were better, but not by much. It had been an hour into the celebration of Wilbur's investiture as the crown prince and at least a dozen people made an effort to touch, twirl or pat Techno's hair. They never asked if they could, and if he tried to duck away they looked at him upset and wounded. The feeling of nails on his scalp was akin to claws scraping metal.

Techno was hiding behind Wilbur with varying degrees of success when he got startled by a servant skidding by. Standing as close as they were, Techno knocked into Wilbur, and grabbed at his arm instinctually. A small spark, foreboding a wildfire.

Wilbur whirled around, ripping his arm out of Techno's hold entirely. "Can you stop?" he snapped.

The air tasted sour. The last meal that Techno ate lurched in his stomach.

"Alright," he said, more hurt cracking in his tone than he intended to. "Sorry."

Regret rippleding in Wilbur's expression. He had been changing as of late, turning more irritable, quicker to take his anger out on Techno. Wilbur would always apologize profusely after, so Techno knew not to take his outbursts too close to heart. This was no different from all the other times. It wasn't.

"I'll go grab some water," Wilbur said, and did just that.

While waiting for him to come back in the ballroom's quieter corners, Techno got flocked by a group of noble children. That, in itself, shouldn't have been anything odd. Everybody wanted to be a friend of the princes', but when people said the princes', it usually meant Wilbur. Singular.

"Now that Prince Wilbur is officially first in line for the throne, I wonder what's going to happen to Prince Technoblade."

"They'll keep him around for décor, probably."

And they burst out laughing, like Techno wasn't right there, trapped in the echo of their snickers and chortles, caged in-between malicious smiles.

It happened before, the same old pattern of poking at Techno from this side or the other and ignoring him if he reacted in some way. Staying silent made them get bored fast, but it was equal to admitting the role they've imposed on him – non-existent. Invisible. Either way, Techno would always lose.

"I don't understand how Prince Wilbur puts up with his twin," one girl added, sighing, once they had a good laugh at their own wits. "Surely, it must've been so burdensome."

Techno froze, and the expression those words knocked into his face was enough for her to break the act and sneak a quick look.

Who knew how far this would go if Wilbur hadn't appeared at that moment. Techno rushed to look away before Wilbur noticed the traitorous shine in his eyes.

"Your Highness, you should dance with us," the girl piped in. The audacity of them all to look so innocent after ridiculing Techno mere moments ago.

But then Techno looked at Wilbur, and his face lit up so hopefully, and he didn't have the heart to tell him any of that.

"Go, Wil," Techno nudged him in the shoulder.

"What?" Wilbur startled. "But... you?"

He trailed off, not knowing how to finish without saying you're totally helpless without me.