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Take my Hand (Wreck my Plans)

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“I will never understand how you’re the number one ranked fairy godfather,” Tommy grumbles, because he is a jealous, petty troll child.


That is not an exaggeration.

Tommy is literally the child of a troll in that, he is actually part troll on his father’s side, and Techno will never, ever cease to find hilarity in this fact.

“It’s because I’m a winner Tommy,” he says calmly, idly straightening his cape while he waits, “not everyone can be like you. We can’t all get lucky in the genetic lottery and rely on being a man-child for the rest of their life.”

“I’m not a man child!” Tommy grits out, “just because you’re impossibly tall, you, you giraffe fairy!”

“Now how would that even work-” Techno starts, only to stop when a familiar feeling tingles run up his spine, one that usually signals a kind-hearted maiden somewhere needs his assistance. 

Techno is glad, he’d been itching to meet a new charge. He’s found no less than five more suitable princes in the past week and he’s keen to meet the maiden and figure out what she’s looking for so he can start his analysis.

He readies himself, stopping by a mirror to briefly check in on his appearance, and pointedly ignores Tommy’s snort at his action.

He’s the number one ranked fairy godfather.

He has a reputation to maintain.

Once he deems himself to be look presentably magical, Techno snaps his fingers to summon his wand, affectionately nicknamed Orphan Obliterator (because no orphans will remain orphans under his care, but in a good way of course, because as their fairy godfather, he shall find them secure homes and loving families), and waves it with a flourish.

Sparkles rain down and envelope him in a whirlwind of light and glitter, spiriting him away from his cosy little cottage in the woods, and when they dissipate he is, oddly enough, in the middle of another forest, right beside a bubbling brook.

Techno blinks.

Strange, normally he finds himself in locked alcoves or towers and not in the middle of nowhere.

Maybe his new charge is lost or on the run from an evil step parental figure?

He peers around, and eventually spies a huddled figure wrapped in a green cloak, crouching by the stream.

“Hellooo,” he greets cautiously in his customary drawl, “my name is Technoblade and I am your fairy godfather.”

There is a pause before the figure stiffens, straightening and turning around with a dagger in one tanned hand, features unfortunately hidden under a hood. 


Techno squints at the figure.

His newest charge has a deeper voice than he expected.

He stares dubiously at the dagger.

And a lot more aggressive than the usual damsels in distress that he has met in the past.

“This is where you tell me your name,” he points out when a beat passes and no further response appears to be forthcoming, feeling thrown by the lack of interest in his introduction.

Usually his new charges see the gold crown on his head, the gossamer black and red butterfly wings, and immediately burst into tears of joy at the realization that he was here to magic their problems away. He's not saying he was expecting grovelling, but a modicum of enthusiasm would have been welcome.

“I don’t know who you are though,” his charge says, sounding skeptical, “why would I tell you my name?”

Techno frowns, something doesn’t feel right with the situation.

He just can’t quite put his finger on it.

“Uhh, did you not hear me?” he asks, “I am your fairy godfather.”

The figure hums. “Not sure I'm interested thanks.”


Techno floats back, wings fluttering in shock. 

“You?” he gets out, “are, are you actually rejecting me as your fairy godfather?”

“I guess?”

His new charge has the audacity to shrug.

“You, what, no, you are not going to ruin my record,” Techno grouses, floating closer, heedless of the still raised dagger, “don't be a nerd, I am your best chance at securing a husband. You think Wilbur can do better? Heh!?”

There is a pause before the other bends over and bursts into loud wheezing laughter.

“You know what?” his charge gasps out, once the laughter dies down, “I'm not sure that's ever really been a worry for me.”

Which is the last thing Techno hears before the figure pushes back the hood and oh-

His charge is a man.

(And a gorgeous one to boot, with dark blond hair ruffled by the hood reveal, tanned skin with light freckles and astonishingly green eyes).

Techno squashes down the part of his brain that blatantly ogles at his new charge because he is a professional.

“Ah,” Techno remarks after he does a rapid rethink of his strategy, “well then. I would like to state at this time that I am supportive of all my charges, regardless of gender, and that I am still your best bet to secure a husband. Or if you want to go the conventional route, I suppose I might also happen to know of some very lovely princesses who need rescuing.”

His charge gives him a strangely thoughtful look, deigning to actually give Techno a slow once-over.

Techno suffers the obvious appraisal of his appearance in good grace.

“And what does a fairy godfather do exactly?”

Techno sighs and waves his wand, dismissing his wings so he is no longer gliding above the ground. He steps gingerly on the wet grass, hoping against hope that his new boots do not get ruined in any capacity.


He had to trade away a full vial of unicorn tears for these flame proof dragonskin boots.

They’re expensive.

“Well, aptly summarized, I am here to help you find your Happily Ever After,” he informs the blond once he’s a bit closer, emphasizing the last few words to give them the importance they deserve.

“You,” his charge states, still looking faintly skeptical.

“I will have you know,” Techno thins his lips and crosses his arms, “that I am the best in the land. Technoblade never fails.”

“Technoblade sure likes to talk about himself.”

Techno suppresses a sigh. “You know, I’m not sure I like you.”

His supposed charge shrugs flippantly, but there's a hint of a smile playing about the blond's lips. “So far, the feeling is mutual.”



How did this exasperating man manage to meet the criteria of a pure-hearted individual in dire need of magical assistance?

Techno is going to have words with Hypixel.

It’s one thing to task him with progressively harder assignments to challenge his position as the number one fairy godfather.

It’s another thing to actively sabotage him with impossibly disinterested individuals.

“Well, suppose I can give this a shot," the blond says easily, "I’m Dream.”

Techno startles, eyebrows lifting in surprise at the abrupt introduction. He scrutinizes the other man for a few seconds, unsure of the reason for the sudden change in heart, before deciding it might be best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

As if sensing the disappearance of Techno's hesitation, Dream grins lopsidedly, looking decidedly handsome and rogue-ish.


At least Techno won’t have trouble finding individuals who will find his charge attractive.

“Guess I’ll be in your care Technoblade,” Dream then pauses carefully and says lightly, “help find me the man of my dreams and what not.”


Also, ha.

Dream’s dream man.

Technoblade is hilarious.




“You want me to what?” Dream asks, looking confused.

Techno blinks at him, unsure of which part he is meant to explain.

“You, ah,” he says eventually when Dream simply stares at him intently, “which part are you having trouble with?”

“All of it,” Dream states firmly, “start from where you said you want to tie me up and abandon me in an unknown forest.”

Techno sighs.

“Not abandon,” he corrects with a small cough, “I will, of course, be observing carefully from a distance.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you seem to think,” Dream mutters, “and also not the point. Why do I have to be tied up?”

Techno makes a face at the blond. 

In the short hour that they’ve been acquainted, Techno’s realized that Dream is handsome, funny, and frustratingly contrary.

He almost misses the typical damsels in distress he usually gets tasked with, because at least they’re respectful and grateful. But if Techno is to be honest, he doesn't miss the constant songs, and regardless of how insolent Dream might be, at least the man is not serenading Techno every ten minutes about how his animal friends can lend a helping hand. 

Small mercies.

“How,” Techno refocuses and gestures awkwardly at the surrounding forest with an all encompassing swing of his arms, “how else would the prince rescue you?”

Dream raises an eyebrow.

“Are you really the best fairy godfather there is?” he asks with a snicker, “this plan doesn’t seem very full proof.”

In lieu of answering, Techno snaps his fingers and points his wand at Dream.

Thankfully, despite his continued lack of faith in Techno’s capabilities, the blond stays complacent and still as Techno’s magic washes over him, snaking ropes across his torso and wrists until he is properly but loosely bound.

“Eyyy, sometimes you just have to trust that your fairy godfather knows best,” Techno says, “don't worry, you just wait and see. I'm going to find you a husband yet.”

Bound and sitting cross-legged in the middle of the flower filled clearing, Dream rolls his eyes.




An hour later finds Techno standing in front of a freed, but decidedly husbandless, Dream, trying and failing to look patient and understanding.



Techno twitches at the amusement he hears in the other’s voice.

“Dream,” he tries again, “why, ah, why did prince Fundy leave?”

“Because he needs to go back to his castle.”

Techno raises a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “And why are you not with him?”

Dream looks around the clearing pointedly. “Because I’m here with you?”

“Hehhhh?” Techno retorts automatically, then stops, “wait, I just, what, what even happened?”

He lapses into disbelieving silence.

Never in his twenty years of being a fairy godfather has he ever had anything like this happen.

It was all going according to plan.

Dream had been appropriately tied up and alone.

Techno had transformed into a giant forest boar and hid in a nearby bush, aggressively running off any woodland critters that might have been interested in venturing too close to his defenceless charge.

He had bribed a few of the magpies under his employment to alert Fundy, a foreign prince who had been cursed by his step-mother to take on the visage of a fox hybrid that resides in these woods, and settled down to watch his master plan unfold.

Like clockwork, Fundy had come by and immediately rushed over to fuss over the still bound Dream.

Techno had watched approvingly as the two interacted, pleased to see that his instincts had been right when he spied the happy swing of Fundy’s tail.

After a bit of mostly inaudible conversation, the cursed prince had carefully untangled Dream and in return, Dream had pressed a kiss to the former’s cheek.

There had been a bright glare before Fundy’s form had shifted and settled down into a human one.

Techno had stomped a hoof in excitement.

He is the greatest!

Technoblade never fails!


He had then watched on in horror as the prince pressed a chaste kiss to Dream’s cheek and then left without declaring his love or proposing marriage, leaving Dream to sit alone in the clearing.

Which leads them back to the present.


“You really have to stop saying my name,” Dream mutters, “it’s starting to not sound like a word.”

“You broke his curse,” Techno presses on, still trying to wrap his head around the situation at hand and valiantly ignoring the other’s reply, “what kind of mad man would choose not to take you with him? I'm beginning to see why his step-mother chose to curse-”

“He did.”

Techno's mouth snaps shut, and in the ensuing silence, he spends a few relaxing seconds to imagine some happy scenarios.

Breaking Wilbur’s guitar.

Hiding Tommy’s precious records.

Being the best fairy godfather in all the lands-


Techno takes in a deep breath. “Would you like to repeat that?”

Dream shifts so he can peer curiously up at Techno.

“I said,” he says slowly, as if talking to a particularly slow stone ogre, “that Fundy did offer to bring me back to his castle.”

“What!" Techno is not too proud to say he squawks, "why did you not say yes?” He raises an impatient eyebrow when Dream makes a thoughtful face, looking as if he was truly contemplating his answer.

“Who knows, guess I'm just not into foxes.” Dream says eventually, shrugging and aiming a carefree grin at Techno.

“You-” Techno makes a frustrated noise, “he’s not a fox anymore.”

Dream's infuriatingly placid smile grows a bit wider. “But he used to be.”

Techno grits his teeth.




Lesson #1: No princes cursed to be foxes (or any kind of beast just to be safe).




After the incident with prince Fundy, Techno spends the next few days scrounging through all of his contacts and scheduling catch up meetings with his entire organization of goons, a pretty extensive network if he does say so himself. He is adamant that the horrible miscalculation and oversight, which shall never again be spoken of in the light of day, does not repeat itself, so he throws himself into his work with renewed fervor.

This means that he is in and out throughout the day and largely leaves his new charge alone in his cottage. Thankfully, despite his initial misgivings, Dream settles happily into Techno’s little abode with relative ease, with the many magical elements in Techno’s home all somehow coming to adore the blond in short order, each happily complying and jumping to task when Dream needs something.

Techno finds this out on the first night, when he arrives home after a long day of conversing with the local wolf pack and, instead of the usual mess, he finds his cottage in tidy order.

He stares at the neat row of potions on the shelves and at the properly righted picture frames with wide uncomprehending eyes, his ears still ringing with howls and yips from the earlier discussion.

Dream, having noticed Techno's quietly stunned expression, offers a small shrug. “Hope you don't mind, I got bored."

When no response seem forthcoming, Dream makes a face before going back to reading one of Techno’s more treasured books.

Techno remains flabbergasted and still for another few minutes.

The last time Wilbur tried to touch the enchanted shelves, the entire thing had upheaved itself and flung its contents onto Techno’s fellow fairy godfather with extreme prejudice.

And when Tommy had brushed against one of the magical picture frames while goofing off with Tubbo last year, the image inside had disappeared for days.

Finally, the one time Phil had touched one of Techno’s books without permission, the book promptly wiped clear all words from its pages.

The strangeness of the situation doesn’t stop there.

Dream even somehow manages to coax Techno’s temperamental stove to light.

Techno finds this out on the third day, when he inexplicably wakes up to the smell of strong citrus black tea. As he shuffles his way into the kitchen, Techno scours his brain for an explanation for the increasingly bizarre circumstances, because his cottage has never taken to any of his charges like this in the past and he genuinely has no idea how Dream is accomplishing all of these feats.

Techno's lived in the cottage for twenty years and it took him a month to convince the stove to turn on, and it had taken a full non-magical scrub down and the finest firewood he could find before the damned appliance even decided to splutter out a small flame.

Honestly, is it just because Dream isn’t like any of Techno’s old charges?

It is true that the blond is sharp-witted and funny, and notably more headstrong than the maidens and the occasional lads that have previously come into his care. What’s more, Dream appears to be intensely curious and a quick learner, evidenced by the fact that he devours the too few books on Techno’s small bookshelf within a short amount of time. And Dream must actually retain the knowledge as well, because Techno’s bookshelf, the traitor, actually deigns to open and show his charge the private library Techno hides behind it after the fifth day.

It’s all entirely baffling.

What's even more confounding is the fact that, after a few conversations over dinner, Techno realizes that he is growing to like his charge’s snarky humour. In fact, if pressed, Techno might even begrudgingly admit that Dream’s presence is refreshing.

Most of his charges tend to be kind-hearted, soft spoken individuals who balk at Techno’s bland and, more often than not, sarcastic comments.

Dream matches him quip for quip.

It’s a nice change of pace.

Too nice.

So when, on the seventh night, Techno looks up from his own book to stare across his small living room at where Dream is curled up on the couch with yet another book in his hand, the orange glow of the fairy light turning his blond hair into gold, and idly think that he might be sorry to see the blond go. Well, there was nothing he could do except to freeze in horror.

Definitely time for the next set up attempt, he thinks grimly to himself.

It’s never good to get too attached to his charges.

Not when they all end up leaving.




“You want me to give him a pair of glasses,” Dream says slowly.

Techno nods.

He is confident in this new plan.

George is a mellow prince with an easy smile, who was unkindly cursed to see colours in a different spectrum at birth by a malicious fairy.

Bless Steve the polar bear for telling Techno about the prince.


Princes who are in need of rescuing are rare.

Princes who then also happen to prefer males are like finding diamonds by randomly excavating a nearby mountain.

Impossibly difficult.

Still, Techno is ecstatic because George is perfect.

And George has never been cursed to be a beast so Techno’s plan is infallible and completely worth the extra day he spent rummaging through his ever-expanding chest to find the damned cure to the prince's curse. Techno sighs and rubs a hand at his tired eyes, supposing that he should be grateful. He's not sure how many fairies could say they just happen to coincidentally own a pair of dwarf crafted optical glasses which are imbued with magic and would therefore be both durable and highly adaptive to the needs of its owner.

“Yes,” he replies, grabbing a hold of Dream’s shoulders so he can pin his wayward charge with a hard stare, “now listen to me carefully, no, focus Dream, don't zone out. Prince George's council has an ongoing call for assistance with respect to the prince's curse. So just relax, walk in, explain what the cure is and gift him the glasses.”

Dream gives him a strange look at their proximity but does not attempt to move out of Techno’s hold.

Techno continues sternly. “You will not refuse him if he asks you to move in with him.”

Dream glares at him.

Techno glares right back.

“No,” he grouses, “don’t give me that look. Do you hear me? You will say yes because as far as my many, many animal goons are aware, George has never been a furry.”

“Wow,” Dream mutters, “really scraping the bottom of the barrel for me, aren't you?”



Techno takes a deep breath. “Heh?! Do you know how hard I worked this week?” he says desperately, and pins his impossible to please charge with a wild-eyed gaze, “I have combed through my entire database Dream. I’ve traded in favours I never thought I would have to, but it’s fine." He forces himself to calm down, "it's all fine, because all of that is past us and because George is your dream man.”


“Dream man,” Techno repeats, “I'm not saying he's a catch Dream but he is perfect. He is handsome, has a kind heart, is smart and will probably even put up with your attitude.”

Dream’s face darkens and he tries to back away, batting at Techno’s hands on his shoulders.

Techno allows him to move away. 

“Promise me Dream, my clout can not handle another failure. My reputation is in tatters as it is. Wilbur had the nerve to laugh at me when he saw me at the fairy council the other day.”

“Alright, fine,” Dream snaps, looking entirely too put out for someone who is about to meet the love of his life, “I just have to give him the glasses right?”

Techno eyes the grumpy look on Dream’s face with trepidation. “I’m serious Dream, George has never been an animal in his life. Please don’t ruin-”

Dream rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, “let’s get this over with.”




Less than an hour later, Techno and Dream return to the cottage in a storm of glitter, down one pair of magical dwarf crafted glasses but with no prince in hand.


“This again?”

Techno sighs heavily. “How?”

He doesn’t know how to complete the question mostly because he has no idea where to start.

As with the previous attempt, it had all been going smoothly.

He had magically transported Dream and himself to the castle and brusquely shoved the magical glasses into Dream’s hands.

Techno had then transformed into a raven and perched himself on a nearby rooftop, close enough to be able to watch as his nicely cleaned up charge spoke to a court attendant and was perfunctorily escorted inside. He had then settled himself down for a nice long wait, anticipating the long time it would likely take to introduce the two, to test out the magical glasses, to get lost in each other’s eyes, to fall in love, to-

So imagine his horror when Dream had stepped right back out after a too brief moment and proceeded to stand awkwardly in the castle courtyard.

Techno had frozen at the implied failure of yet another supposedly foolproof plan.

When it became clear that Dream is not about to go back inside and prince George is not about to come running out to propose marriage, Techno had shaken himself out of the shocked stupor and flown down to gather his charge.

(And Techno’s heart had resolutely not sped up when, upon seeing him, Dream’s face had broken into a pleased grin. Instead, he had stomped down on the utterly baffling reaction and ferried them both home.)

Which, once again, leads them back to the present.

Dream has the gall to look annoyed. “Look,” he mutters, “if it helps, your plan succeeded okay? He did ask me to marry him.”

Techno blinks at him.

“What,” he says calmly, “why are we here then? You-”

“I said no.”

“Bruh,” Techno gets out weakly. 

He feels faint.

“Why? I, you, my clout,” he concludes sadly.

Dream looks a bit contrite. “I, look Technoblade, he’s not my type okay?”

“You have a type?" Techno asks with widening eyes, "what is your type? My magic is at your disposal, Dream, you can trust me, just lay it on me.”

Maybe it’s a trick of the poor lighting, but Dream looks a little flushed.

“I like someone with magic,” Dream gets out, looking up through his stupidly long eyelashes at Techno.

Techno pauses.

“Okayyy,” he drawls out, rapidly sorting through the remaining catalogue of eligible suitors he had kept track of as back up plans for Dream, “is, is that all? I mean, we might need to regroup but it might help if you give me a bit more to work with?”

Dream stares at him for a few more seconds before he sighs and makes a face.


“What?” Techno grumbles back, hackles rising at the disappointment he senses in the other’s tone, “first of all, how many eligible princes who have never been cursed to be a beast and have magic do you think are out there? Second, since we're talking about what your ideal is like, we might as well as go into detail-”

“I, what, who do you think,” Dream mutters then raises a hand to rub at his face, looking resigned, “you know what, keep pitching them at me but can we at least agree on not having any more in person matchmaking attempts unless I agree to it?”

Techno squints at Dream’s profile in confusion.

If it made any sense, Techno might almost say Dream sounds hopeful about not being introduced to other bachelors.

But that's insane.

All of his charges are looking for their Happily Ever After and in this world, marrying someone of the right import easily provides the blissful life they're all seeking.

So the possibility that Dream might not want to meet more potential suitors is incomprehensible.

Techno is just going mad from the repeated failures.

That's all.

“Alright,” he says eventually, “I suppose I do need to rethink my strategy.”

Dream rolls his eyes, but when he speaks, his tone is undeniably fond.

“Whatever you say, but for now, can we please make some food? George had a feast and I'm starving.”

Techno allows himself to be dragged into their small kitchen and spends the rest of the night being quietly puzzled by the strange sense of contentment radiating from the depth of his chest.




Lesson #2: No one without magical powers.




Techno is going out of his mind.

He’s known for a while now that his cottage adores Dream.

What he hadn’t anticipated, is for his goons and friends to also share the sentiment.

The sparrows that nest in the pine trees nearby now regularly stop by in the morning to drop off fresh berries for their breakfast, the grumpy mother bear that live in a cave an hour or so away comes by for weekly visits and gifts freshly caught wild salmon, and it gets to the point where Techno no longer questions how Dream is able to make the dishes that he does, because the answer is invariably that some animal or other offered assistance.

It doesn’t stop at woodland critters.

Techno’s network of loyal goons also become Dream’s simps in short order, meaning Techno is now inundated with constant queries imploring after Dream’s health, his happiness, his preferences for future matchmaking attempts and-

It’s all a bit too much.

And what’s worse is that Techno can’t even blame any of them for becoming enamoured with Dream, because there’s a tightness in his chest every time Dream smiles at him that informs Techno that he himself is becoming a simp.

He is horribly conscious that Dream’s becoming much too entangled in his life.

This does not bode well for when the blond eventually leaves.

Whilst it's true that Dream remains unhelpfully tight-lipped about what kind of man he’s looking for so the process is taking longer than normal, Techno is nonetheless very aware that Dream is his charge and, as his charge, must at some point leave.

It’s the nature of the job.

Techno had thought himself long past getting attached, because while he had liked all of his charges in his own way (it’s why he had tried so damn hard to secure them the happy ending they all deserve), he’s long since learned to not like them.

So why is Dream such a glaring outlier?

Why can’t he stop thinking about his blond charge at random times of the day?

Why does he feel relieved every time Dream turns down yet another potential match for the most inane of reasons?

Honestly, Dream’s perfect match has now been narrowed down to someone who is:

  1. Not a furry
  2. Has magic
  3. Is well read
  4. Has pets or is well acquainted with animals (at the least)
  5. Has a sarcastic sense of humour

At one point, Techno had simply given up and asked Dream if he had someone specific in mind, to which Dream had said yes, then proceeded to stare patiently at Techno without further elaboration.

That conversation ended with Techno throwing up his hands in defeat and Dream making snide comments about his abilities as the top ranked fairy godfather.

Needless to say, that had not been a fun day.

Honestly, Techno has gotten to the point where he might actually admit defeat and request for Dream to be transferred to someone else’s care. He’s not sure he can handle spending more time with his infuriatingly charming charge and still manage to restrain his growing fondness for the other.

He’s fairly certain that it would be considered an interest in conflict.


Maybe it already is.

He’s been depressingly low on candidates recently, too often finding himself discarding one prince or other because the man is obviously not funny enough for Dream, or handsome enough, or-

Techno stops in the middle of the woods when his wings give out at the sudden realization, allowing himself to drop onto the ground, heedless of the wet, loamy soil he’s now stepping on in favour of the bigger issue.

He might already be a bit in love with his gorgeous, snarky blond charge.

Well, shit.




“What?” Dream says, eyes wide and mouth open.

Techno tries hard to not look in the other’s direction, he’s not sure he wouldn’t just stare hopeless at Dream’s stupidly pretty lips like the horrible simp that he has become. Instead, he clears his throat, “I have decided to entrust you to Wilbur’s care.”

“What?” Dream repeats, brows furrowing.

“He’s not entirely terrible,” Techno tries, stepping away so he can put some distance between them, “in fact, I have it on good accounts that he is amongst the best there is in the fairy godfather rankings. Nowhere close to my rank of course-”

“No, what the, what is wrong with you?” Dream spits out, hands clenched into fists by his side.

Techno falters. “Excuse me?”

Dream looks exasperated. “What do you think?” he snaps, “why are you no longer going to be my fairy godfather?”

“I don’t think this arrangement is working out,” Techno says slowly, more honest than he intended, too taken aback by the genuine look of hurt that’s painted across Dream’s lightly freckled face. “I, uh, I mean, not sure if you’ve noticed but I’m obviously not having any luck, and instead of continuing to-”

“Do you like having me here?” Dream interrupts, taking a few steps closer until he’s more or less up in Techno’s face.

This close, Dream’s eyes are startlingly green.

Techno swallows hard and firmly reminds himself that he is a fairy godfather, meaning he has to follow a code of ethics and it is absolutely against regulations to keep his assigned charge locked away in his own abode because he can't imagine anyone being good enough for them, who would treasure them or need them in the same way that Techno does-

He stops that unhelpful train of thought.

It’s his job to help them find happiness.

And no one in their right mind would ever decide that Techno, a bitter, sarcastic recluse of a fairy godfather with a penchant for collecting old books, would be the type of person they would want to spend the rest of their lives with.

He looks away, unable to maintain eye contact.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

Dream presses his lips together and breathes in sharply through his nose. “Just answer the question,” he says tightly.

Yes, Techno thinks. “Ehhh, I like all my charges,” he says instead, “kind of comes with the territory.”

“Am I just another charge?” Dream is quiet now, all of the earlier ferocity and fight seeming to have suddenly drained from him.

Techno pauses at the resounding no that springs to mind, and pushes down the ugly, possessive feeling that’s churning in his stomach.

“You’ll be better off with Wilbur,” is what he says eventually, as blandly as he could manage past the lump in his throat.

Dream turns away.

Techno observes the slump in his charge’s shoulders and breathes past the pain in his chest.

This is for the best.




“This is just sad,” Tommy mutters.

Techno ignores it.

He’s currently hiding in a tree close to Wilbur’s house so he’s not exactly in the right headspace to deal with Tommy’s special brand of antagonistic affection. 

The family has been invited to the latter’s house, but Techno is stalling outside, unable to bring himself to actually go in.

He really should just fairy up, but he’s not ready to see Dream, or how Dream has probably already fitted himself into the empty spaces of Wilbur’s home and life.

Tubbo, sensing the change in mood, makes a sad noise and peers up at where Techno is perched on a branch with his wings half-heartedly flapping to shoo away the nosy birds that keep trying to come by and gossip. 

Techno doesn’t want to talk about Dream right now.

“Would you like a poppy?” Tubbo asks, proffering a red flower with an uncertain frown.

“No thank you,” Techno says, deigning to give the sheep and empath hybrid a small, albeit forced, smile. He likes Tubbo, and he’s genuinely confused how such a nice child has managed to bond so effortlessly with the chaotic monster that is Tommy.

Case in point.

“Technoblade,” Tommy says, “how long are you planning to hide out here like a bitch?”

“Tommy,” Techno replies evenly, “how long are you planning to continue living?”

Tommy grimaces at him.

“You’re a dick Techno, if you’re going to be like this, we’re going to go in first.”

Techno ignores it again.

What does he care?

Maybe he’ll just skip this-

Only, just as he’s about to fly away, he sees someone walking out onto Wilbur’s porch.

It’s Dream.

Techno’s heart traitorously leaps to his throat, because Dream looks tired, and defeated in a way that makes Techno want to do nothing more than to gather the blond up in his arms and hide him away in their cottage.

And since when did it become their cottage?

Wilbur comes out before he can move.



Dream’s face is lighting up now, a shy pleased smile creeping on his face as they continue to converse.

Suddenly, Dream’s list of characteristics flashes to mind and Techno wonders, with a heavy sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, if maybe it had been Wilbur all along that Dream had been thinking of.

If perhaps that was why Dream had such a sudden change of heart in their initial meeting, agreeing to be Techno’s charge only after Techno had mentioned Wilbur’s name.

The thought stings.

But it’s the shame that hits the hardest.

Dream had been dropping hints all along and instead of listening to the clues, Techno’s been too blind by his own ego to realize who Dream’s perfect match is and then he had to go fall in love-

Techno doesn’t bother with subtlety.

He leaves in a whirlwind of glitter with his heart aching in his chest.

As he leaves, he repeats the mantra that’s been running through his mind incessantly since Dream’s been gone.

This is for the best.




Techno hides for the rest of the day.

He’s not too proud to admit it.

He gives up on making a cup of tea when his stove ignores him for the third time in a row, and after his favourite book translates itself into goblinese out of spite, Techno decides retreat is the better part of valour.

Meaning he stops trying to get his appliances and furniture into working order and goes off to lay face first in his bed instead, which is how Dream finds him hours later.

Techno blearily looks up from where he had been haphazardly laying across his bed, sprawled out unceremoniously like a starfish.

“Heh?!” he gets out, “what, how, why are you back?”

“Because Wilbur is doing his job.”

At the mention of his fellow fairy godfather’s name, Techno’s face falls despite himself.

“What does that mean?” he grouses, tempted to throw his previous charge out of his room, except even as he’s thinking it, the fairy lights in the room are coming to life to grace Dream with a warm orange glow.

It’s ridiculously flattering.

Techno hates this traitorous cottage.

He’s going to burn everything down and restart his career with a nice seaside villa-

“Are you listening to me?”

Techno blinks. “Uhh,” he mutters, “no, what? That’s nice that he’s doing his job, but that doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

Dream makes a face. “I swear,” he grits out, a dull flush on his cheeks, “you are absolutely impossible.”

“I’m impossible?” Techno scoffs, “look who’s talking, mister I have a mysterious person I’m simping for but I won’t make your job easier by telling you who it is.”

“It’s you, you idiot!”

“Yeah,” Techno agrees readily, “see if you told me, that would have been-”

He cuts himself off and does a double take once his brain catches up with his mouth.

Dream groans. “How are you so oblivious? Seriously, I told you the other day that I only liked people with pink hair.”

Techno pauses.

He recalls that conversation and the ensuing panic it had caused once he realized that none of the princes left on his sad, tiny list of remaining candidates had pink hair. He had then gone about trying to figure out if he could convince any of them to dye their hair.


“I said I wanted someone who’s read the Art of War,” Dream continues, still red cheeked, “and has a network of animals to do their bidding.”

“I thought you wanted someone well-read and has pets,” Techno tries to defend himself but he’s starting to feel incredibly dumb.

Dream glares at him. 

“How are you the number one ranked fairy godfather? I’ve been cooking for you for weeks, I’ve won over your cottage and your pets, I’ve even read your favourite books so I can understand your many references and I’ve given you so many hints. I rejected all of your matchmaking attempts, and after all that, you decide I need a new fairy godfather? Really?”

Techno pushes himself up and off the bed.

“What a clown, imagine simping for someone that hard,” he replies by default, an automatic defense against the sudden soaring sense of hope in his chest.

“I hate you,” Dream mutters, “honestly, what the hell is wrong with you. I’m confessing and you’re mocking me-”

Techno doesn’t let him finish, moving forward and interrupting Dream with a hard kiss, biting the blond’s bottom lip gently before he allows them to part.

“So uhh, I might not have mentioned this, but I love having you here,” Techno allows himself to acknowledge, answering the question from their last proper conversation, “I may in fact love it way too much. And you were never just another charge to me, but that didn’t change the fact that you were my charge and I was meant to be finding you the perfect match, not allowing you to settle for someone like me. I swear I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“I’m not settling, you dick,” Dream grumbles, ducking his head underneath Techno’s chin and bringing his arms up to loosely wrap around Techno’s torso. “And by the way? I know you liked having me around, the magpies told me so and they're the best source of reliable news. That’s why I gave you a chance to confess.”

“Bruh,” Techno points out, “you know you could have saved us all this trouble if you just said you knew.”

“And you could have saved us the hassle if you just admitted you liked having me around,” Dream retorts testily.

Techno sighs.

“That’s a fair point.”

There is a moment of silence.

“We’re both idiots,” Dream eventually says.

“Speak for yourself,” Techno replies automatically.

Dream pulls away enough to smack Techno on the arm before immediately ducking back in and resuming their loose hug.

“Ehh,” Techno grumbles and concedes, “fine, we’re both idiots.”

He tugs Dream far away enough to be able to catch the other's pretty mouth in another kiss. This one is soft and sweet, magical in a way that Techno had imagined it would be in the brief moments when he had allowed himself to hope. When they pull apart this time, he presses his forehead against Dream’s and stares down at the blond.

“Does this technically mean I was the one who succeeded in helping you find your Happily Ever After? Because I won’t lie, I need the clout.”

He waggles his eyebrows hopefully.

Dream blinks up at him, before he wheezes out a laugh.

“You wish, your reputation is gone. I’m totally telling Hypixel that Wilbur’s plan worked.”


Dream grins impishly at him. “Yeah, to show you what you’re missing.”

Techno balks, rethinking the day’s events.

“You mean-”

“Oh yeah,” Dream says with great relish, “was worth all the time spent plotting and practicing to get the timing down, just to see the look on your face when you saw Wilbur and I. Plus, it was funny to watch you try and operate the stove without me.”

Dream looks unreasonably pleased with himself, a proud little smile dancing about his lips and Techno is so in love with him that it hurts.

No one else has ever been able to challenge him or wind him up in the same way.

And Techno is beginning to suspect, no one ever will.

No one else will ever be able to take Dream's place.

At this point, he’ll take the hit to his reputation.

It’ll be worth it as long as he gets to wake up to Dream’s wheezy laughter and the smell of citrus black tea.

“Welcome home,” he says instead of all the embarrassingly sappy sentiments he could spew out, and their next kiss?

Just as magical as the previous ones.