This was an art made for my friend (who shall remain anonymous), but the original version of this character is from my AU where Wilbur is a spoiled prince who was bethroted to an Emperor of the neighbouring country to seal the alliance set between them. At first Wilbur is very much against losing his freedom to a half-piglin brute, but he quickly realises that Emperor Technoblade is much different than the rumours paint him…
(Btw the art has nothing to do with the creator wilbur soot. Fuck that bitch. The character in the picture is inspired by c!wilbur, but is heavily altered to match the AU.)
The Antarctic Empire's soldiers are on the horizon and in their way stands you. With your small unit the only defense against their forces. You are ordered to lay down your life for your King. But an Emperor in disguise of a General takes an interest in your undying loyalty.
Now Playing: IYDKMIGTHTKY by Type O-Negative
Taglist: @segnoblade
Words: 2.1k
It's been doing some thinking
And felt fair that she should know
All actions in which partake
Are far beyond its control
Being assigned Head General is supposed to be an honor, not a death sentence. But, as the only senior soldier of your group still alive, the “honor” falls directly to you. God, you should’ve taken your retirement when you had the chance. But, being in the military of your small kingdom was all you’ve ever known.
The kingdom has been at peace for decades. You’d never thought you would be facing down one of the largest growing empires on the god forsaken continent. The Antarctic empire has not grown through peace or politics, it rips throughout the land. Landing on Kingdom after Kingdom it conquers. Some, wiser than most, surrendered immediately. Others, foolish Kingdoms (yours included), decided to fight the inevitable.
Whether it was born or bred
(Genetic, environment)
I wouldn't bother to ask it why
Simply concentrate on when
It lies awake, yes, quite obsessed
Making plans but it won't tell
In the beginning, you thought yourself honorable for fighting and defending your Kingdom. There is none of that honor now. You were a mere captain of a small unit before the war. Now, as one of the few left to take the spot, you’re Head General. Before, your hands were only stained with the blood of mobs.
Now, there’s no taking the stain of human life from your hands. You’ve killed so many Empire soldiers their uniform has stuck itself to the back of your eyelids as you fall asleep at night. Well, when you do sleep.
You’ve clashed swords with their war general only once. By pure luck, you made it out with only a slice to the ear. Laying down in the barracks next to the last of your soldiers, you can still remember the burning of his ruby eyes on your own. His words ring in your ears even still.
”Didn’t know bunnies made their place as a soldier.”
The anger at his words still linger in the back of your chest, the surprised look on his face at your response is your only relief.
”I didn’t know they made greedy pigs their generals.”
That had been when he’d sliced your ear. And you managing to slice across the bridge of his nose in retaliation. The adrenaline running away from such a large man was exhilarating. But rabbit’s have always been faster than pigs. Losing him in the forest was a stroke of luck. Or a kindness on his part. But the thought of that leaves a bitter taste on your tongue. You’d regrouped with the survivors of your last unit and made your way to the castle. Your final stand is to defend your king, your foolish idiot of a king.
So longs to hear her final words:
"I brought this on myself"
You should’ve taken your leave when you still had the chance. His forces were massive. Seeing them on the horizon only furthered your despair. But, you’ve been cowardly enough. Running away would only be further humiliating. All of the nobles and rich blood have fled, leaving only the king and your unit inside the castle. The king had given the order for the civilians to flee. It was your decision to stay, you brought this upon yourself.
The theory of futility
Now you'll learn, so be prepared
Enemies are equal to wrath times the speed of fright squared, yeah
To fight is futile. But the king won’t listen. He will not surrender. He will not flee. He stays upon his throne with all the stubbornness of his old age. His pride has gotten your brothers in arms killed. And it’ll kill you.
They’ve arrived at the city walls. You can hear them ramming through the first gate. Your archer’s are stationed and firing. But, again, it is futile. You see them go down, one by one. The first gate falls, and then the second, and finally the third.
They rush through the castle, arriving at the King’s throne, with you in front of it. Now, for all your short stature. You rose through the ranks for a reason. However, there is little you can do against a man the size of a horse.
His forces align the walls, not attack, not even drawn weapons. But they watch. One of them makes a signal call and then that pig-headed bastard is sauntering in through his path of men.
He stops only a mere few feet away from you and your position in front of the King. Your King has yet to give you the order of attack. The man in front of you takes in your form. The heavy metal armor, a sword sharpened to kill, and finally landing on your bandaged ear.
His stopped form allows you to take him in as well. He's easily 6”8 and his dark armor only serves as further intimidation. His sword is undrawn and he makes no move to do so. Your eyes land on his bandaged nose and a sneer threatens to overtake your features. You glance down at the tusks protruding from his mouth, his stature, pink hair, and tusks the only things indicating his nether blood. He makes a move to speak but your King speaks first.
“General Technoblade, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
God, your King is senile. Against your better judgment your eyes close in irritation and a huff leaves your mouth. A gesture that didn’t escape the man in front of you. A thoughtful look crosses his face before he responds.
“That would be because you have lost this war. Your forces are gone. The only remnant of soldiers you have is the one in front of you. And she deserves a much better King than the likes of you.”
It is treason to even agree with the man's words. And yet, you find yourself agreeing. A surprised look crossing your features before you can stomp it down. Yet another gesture that the General takes in. A small satisfied smirk crosses his features, his eyes have never left yours this whole time. The feeling it gives you makes yourself feel hot in your armor. You hope to god it’s just you being nervous.
The sputtering your King makes brings you back down to earth. You know what he is going to do. The idiot. Your mother was right when she said this line of work was going to get you killed. You hope the soldiers at least have the honor to bury you.
“You rude pig! General, I give you one more order before I die seated on this throne, fight for my life!
If you don't kill me
I'm going to have to kill you... you
You rush forward and swipe at the man in front of you. But your heart isn’t in it, your not even making any moves to actually hurt him. You hope he guts that stupid idiot after he takes your head. But, Technoblade makes no moves to hurt you either. His eyes narrow at your movements. You consider making a break for it like a coward before he speaks.
“You know, a soldier of your skill would be much better off fighting for a worthy Emperor.”
If you don't kill me
I'm going to have to kill you... you
You hesitate, and stop. His words bounce around in your head and God, do you really consider it. But, you are loyal. When you swore that oath to your King you were serious. And, you begin to become suspicious. Ignoring the idiot behind you yelling orders. You speak.
“What is the worth of an enemy soldier to a General who holds thousands?”
He seems satisfied with your words, which only serves to make you more suspicious.
My God helps those who help themselves
Of thus, she shan't be ashamed
Crawl into line and wait your turn
“I haven't met a soldier who could land a hit on me since I was a teenager. None of my men, my best, have ever been able to either. And, you do not have to be an enemy.”
“Do you not care for loyalty? To betray my King is treason! I would never do such a shameful thing.”
“Treason yes, but what is treason to a King who doesn’t deserve to be one? I do care for loyalty, your drive to still stand by that old coot is admirable, but used in the wrong place.”
Remember Jesus slaves
Department of Probation:
"Legally it can't be blamed, held therefore unaccountable
since it's clinically insane - what a shame again"
The Kin- No, Your King is still spouting nonsense behind you. Not for the first time, you wish for a more competent leader. You cannot let yourself be swayed to join the army of a man filled with reckless abandon and bloodlust.
If you don't kill me
I'm going to have to kill you... you
You go on the attack again. And he meets you blade for blade every time. The intricate dance of fighting a man slower, but bigger than you is something you will miss. You haven't had a good sparring partner in ages. And the fight fills you with adrenaline as you dodge another swipe, getting behind the man to aim at his back. He barely turns around in time to block your hit.
If you don't kill me
I'm going to have to kill you... you
Despite yourself, you find yourself smiling. He pushes you back, and you push him. He gets a hit on you, you get a hit on him. It is a dance that turns bloody with every connected blow. The fight feels like it's been going on for hours, when you know it definitely hasn’t been for that long. But, the fight doesn’t feel like it will end anytime soon.
If you don't kill me... me
I'm going to have to kill you... you
As the fight continues, you can feel the blood loss taking its toll. Your legs shake with exertion. You're both heaving at this point, having been fighting for ages. The King has fallen silent behind you. Maybe he finally kicked the bucket you think bitterly. You let your blade drop to the ground, and he does the same.
If you don't kill me... me
I'm going to have to kill you... you... you live
You're frustrated, he should’ve killed you hits ago. But then again, you had plenty of opportunities to take his head and you never did. With heavy breaths you grit out.
“Just be done with it already, you’ve gotten your entertainment out of me. Be done with this and continue on your conquest, you pig.”
He chuckles. He fucking chuckles at you.
“If you don’t kill me, I’ll have to kill you.”
“Ah, that isn't necessary.”
Before you can question him he makes a signal with his hand. An arrow goes whooshing past your head. But it’s too late
You must decide
We're out of time
No place to hide
Your choice, not mine!
You whirl around just in time to get a view of the arrow lodging itself deep into the King’s neck. Before you can think, you are shoved to the ground with the General’s blade pointed against your neck. You gape up at him, your eyes blown wide as he stares thoughtfully down at you.
“Your King is dead, you are a soldier to no one. Your loyalty has no King to pledge itself to. I told you your loyalty has been misplaced. Pledge your loyalty to me and you’ll never have to listen to foolish old Kings ever again.”
He said Kings with disgust. Your mind starts racing. You know you're missing something. You do a once over of his armor once again and your eyes land on a symbol you’d missed earlier. Your knowledge of foreign rulers is few, but even you know the symbol of an Imperator, an Emperor. Your face goes pale. He smirks down at you.
“I’m sure you’ll make the wise decision.”
You must decide
We're out of time
No place to hide
Your choice, not mine!
You stare up at him. His hand reached down to help pull you up. Behind you, you can hear the dying gasps of an old man no longer a King. No longer your King. After all, what is treason if your King is already dead? You grab his hand and he pulls you up easily.
“I haven't had a right hand man since Phil got married. You’ll be perfect.”
A bead of sweat drops down your neck and you think.
