#platonic techno x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theeyoungalabastor · 1 year

Text

Technoblade and his Apprentice: The Shattered Totem- Kill or Be Killed (Part 1)

Part 1, Part 2

(Art by: Jammie on Twitter)

Where does this take place?: The Arctic Empire, New L'Manberg, The Greater SMP

What event takes place?: Technoblade's and (Y/n)'s execution

Character pairing: Piglin!Hybrid!Technoblade and Bear!Hybrid!Reader

Information on chatacter(s): Both hybrids have a human like form but when feeling threatened both are able to shift into a bigger more animal like form that will add onto both strength, agility, and height (height to look more intimidating)

WARNINGS: Blood, character death, descriptive but mild gore, angst, explosions, murder, manipulation, foul language, freezing,

Status: Platonic, Angst, Fluff, Familial (Technoblade sees reader as a sibling)

Pronouns: They/them

Word count: 7,306 (7K)

Page count: 21.4

Summary: Having been included with the aid of destroying L'Manberg with Technoblade both the Piglin man and dear reader soon become the main target for a certain quartet. Nailing wanted posters to the wooden poles around New L'Manberg the ensemble set off with the intent of having the duo pay for their crimes. Public Execution.

A disk spun on its needle, the haunting like melody soaking into the wallpaper that layered the drywall surrounding them. A fire cackled not far from their pawed feet, hot flames lapping away at the charred wood, it's fuel radiating just enough heat to warm the bear hybrids toes. Shadows dancing with each flicker of the orange blaze.

E/c eyes drifted to the compass that sat heavily in the palm of their hand, it's sheen surface shining with the loadstone enchant which only became more apparent with the fire's illuminance glinting faintly off of the glass surface, it's red pinpointing north.

Nervousness gnawed hungrily at the pit of your rather empty stomach as the thick skin of your thumb traced the letters dug into the cold iron back, careful not to damage the devices surface with your keen talons. Ever since The Blade himself handed you the device it had been clipped to your belt safely. Every so often you would spare a glance in hopes the pin would click, directing you towards your friend's new home.

At times you would stand timidly at the end of the dock where you last saw the other hybrid, where he told you he was going to retire from everything.

The conflict.

The government.

The violence...

"Y/n..." Technoblade stare at the sun that began to rise above the horizon as if it were to be his last, tired eyes tracing over the water line as the ball of flames arose giving birth to a new morning. His hair reeked of soot and gun powder from the recent events, here and there a patch of his roseate fur was littered in dark splotches from where clumps of dirt and gravel had landed during the nation's destruction done by the hands of its own founder. But the hybrid seemed to pay no mind to his tainted coat but more on the effervescent ball of flames that bathed the smoke-filled firmament in ravishing hues of orange and gold.

He lost the man he considered a brother. Wilbur. To his own father. Impaled through the chest by a glistening diamond sword, if Techno didn't know any better, he would have mistaken the glittering blade as the one that Tommy had gifted the winged man on their last Christmas together.

"Yes Techno?" Your voice was dry, hoarse even, noticeably wavering and damn near dead of all emotion, along with the dull sheen that glossed your e/c eyes. His ruby hues drifted to meet your own. Pain pooling deeply in those blood tinted orbs. Not only did The Blade lose a brother, but you had also lost something as well.

Your home.

And your friends.

You lost their trust the minute you turned to face the Piglin hybrid, hand held out demandingly as he had already placed two of those ebony skulls atop of the four blocks of inklike sand that wept, but their cries fell onto deaf ears as he afforded his gaze to your stony features. The third skull sat in his clammy palms, ready to slam onto the last block of soul sand; but he hesitated, looking down at your outstretched hand that itched to feel the smooth bone of the skull. Without a second glance, he placed it into the heel of your palm with a firm nod.

That is probably where the two made their mistakes.

"I think I'm going to retire." His words were stern but soft as he glanced at you almost as if you were a kicked puppy cowering with its tail between its legs. Your eyes remained on the still waters that skipped across the shoreline, the sound was painful reminder of what once was. "Where will you go? Will I see you again?"

Technoblade knew you didn't hold what happened against him, especially knowing his unexplainable hatred towards governments, I mean shit. Look what it's done. He lost his brother for God's sake, to the unquenchable thirst for power that he had at the tip of his fingers.

Techno shook his head, unsure. "I honestly don't know, wherever the wind takes me I guess." Digging a hand into one of his pockets the taller male ferreted around before fishing a handheld object from its depths. You watched with a quirked brow as the taller man held out a large hand, gesturing for you to take what sat in his grasp.

"For when things go south. Go north."

At first when Techno said those words, you didn't think he meant literally, but here you were, eyes glued to the red needle that pointed north. Ever since the day of Wilbur's passing you didn't intend on living in L'Manberg- or NEW L'Manberg that is- after Tubbo took the title of the shattered nations president you had turned away from that unfinished symphony. You now resided within the barrier of the Greater SMP, atop the hill of where a certain tumultuous British boy's home was dug into.

Some people blamed you for the way things went down, Technoblade unleashing the hellish three headed beasts with the help of your traitorous hands, the TNT that tore the nation's structure, sending everything skyward. They blamed you for helping the Pigman fight against the government that drove his brother to insanity. The Government that exiled its two original founders or the same one that drove the once great leader whose eyes shown with pride's son to destroy the very walls that were made to protect him.

You glanced towards the dingy window another content smile splayed at your thinly lined lips.

You remembered the time Technoblade- the man to who you looked up to with much pride- taught you how to correctly plant potatoes.

"No, you don't plant them like that, they'll grow wonky." Pulling the vegetable from its hole, the one that you nonchalantly dug and tossed it into. You looked at the taller man that towered over you with a deadpanned expression, the six-foot something man paid no attention to your bored expression. Reaching into his pant pocket the fucia haired man ferreted for a moment. "Why? This is just a waste of fucking time they're just potatoes, nothing to get fussy or even get excited over." You spoke with the roll of your eyes and a shrug before standing beside Technoblade, dusting your soil caked fingers against your filthen and slightly tattered pants, perfect for farming.

"Yes, they are just potatoes, but these potatoes' are what is going to fuel out battalion and keep our bodies from shutting down on themselves." Pulling a blade from his pocket the other dug its sharp edge into the middle of the vegetable and skillfully cutting it in half. Glancing at your curious figure his long tail snapped back and forth with entertainment. Just a moment ago you were groaning about how potatoes weren't much to be excited about and how planting them was a waste of time.

Extending his hand towards you he held the small handheld blade in his scarred clad hand. "Cut them in half, we need to ration as many as we can so there's enough for everyone." You glanced up at the older man with uncertainty glinting in your (e/c) hues, a brow quirked to add into your iffiness.

Chuckling softly Technoblade bounced his extended hand expectantly with a soft groan. "Are you gonna take it or not? I'm trying to do a whole bonding moment with my apprentice- and my arm is starting to ache." Now it was his turn to deadpan at your stiffened figure below him. Your round ears flickered as you jumped, fingers softly surrounded the blade, face bloomed with blushing embarrassment. Clutching the blades handle you glanced innocently up at the other, eyes glinting with questioning.

Crouching slightly beside you Technoblade placed a large hand atop of your shoulder, a finger directed to the bottom of the knife. "Use this part the knife, it divides the meat in the potato better, but when you plant it make sure the small roots here-" He let his acute nails poked at the white spikes that protruded from the plants skin. "-Plant that part in the soil, make sure the cut part is facing the surface so that when it grows the plant's stem can break the surface better." Nodding you watched intently as he explained.

"Alright." Reaching into the small potato bag that hung from your hip you pulled out another potato as Technoblade turned away from you to plant the potato that he took from your hole and planted both halves in his own dug holes before scrubbing his palms against the knees of his pants as he covered the crops.

You held the potato gently, eyeing it with a faint smile before digging the tip into the skin.

That was when the days were long and grueling but empty of most problems, the most you had witnessed within the walls of Pogtopia was Wilbur's constant and rabid mental decline that plummeted like a stone in water.

Blabbering about being the villain and that if he couldn't have L'Manberg, then no one can. And with that, it was blown into the sky with the help of two shape shifting hybrids.

You clutched the compass, pulling it to your chest. Not many ever forgave you for helping destroy the same thing that they were all fighting to protect, throwing all of their work down the drain like expensive wine. Sometimes it ate at the core of your brain, no matter how badly you wanted to apologize to the children that had to face the wrath of the man with big dark horns, or even witness the once lively leader loose his ever-living mind to the nagging voices and now a boy sent to exile by his own friend, the one who he saw as an actual brother.

Is this how Eret felt? When he expressed his remorse for the final control room?

Heaving a sigh your e/c eyes drifted out of the window as your mind settled on the boisterous blonde's home, one that use to bound pridefully down the prime path that just so coincidentally happened to lead up to his doorstep, chest puffed, and head held high. It was eerily quiet without his high-pitched laugh or passive aggressive threats. A spark of memory flashed through your mind as you recall a conversation with a certain winged man.

"That kid, I'm telling ya, he's given me more gray hairs than my own son." He chuckled humorously as he watched his adopted blonde son clash his skull against the firm horn of his friend. Crying out in pain before rubbing the soon to be bruised spot that blossomed due to their recklessness. Tubbo on the other hand, clutched his stomach that grew tense with laughter a few breathy taunts leaving his cavernous lips.

He spoke about how incredibly corrupt that government was, how it tossed the presidential titles around like it were a game of Ga-ga ball, and whose ever feet the ball just so happened to hit was the new ruler of the damned nation. The blonde man spoke of how that government drove his one and only son to dementedness and now cast the other aside, doomed to bare exile with the ghastly apparition of who once was. After your departure from L'Manberg, much like Technoblade, you gifted the two a compass that led to your home located just off the prime path, a way to locate you faster when needed.

A content but solemn smile tugged at the edges of your lips as you began to reminisce the better times, the times you were still considered a 'good person' but you too, had shoved the goads of violence to the back of your mind. Now, you did not have the voices that sang out in demand for blood, but you did have the invasive or intrusive thoughts that would dance around your mind like a ballet dancing the nutcracker. They were tempting, urging you to wrap your large palms around the throat of anyone who stepped foot on your doorstep, watch as their lively eyes glazed over with the thin sheet of death or maybe see your clawed fingers tainted with the said crimson whine.

This is what war does to a person.

No matter who they are.

A person could have the kindest heart and brightest eyes that one has ever seen before being tainted by the trauma of war that could make any man go berserk.

But it's not the memories that were left behind that made these impulses bubble to the surface, it was the blood that stained your tongue during it. Once an animals tongue collides with the copper relish of blood, it lingers like honey, like a craving even. And that is exactly what it was for you, a nagging craving that had turned sour as of the recent months. You blamed the damned hybrid side of you, the rabid bear.

The snap of the fire awoke your dazed figure back to reality as you glanced over, eyeing the glowing ember that sat on the waxed wood of your floor, with a groan you heaved yourself to your pawed feet before padding towards where the smoldering chunk of charred lumber lay, nonchalantly kicking it back into the hot pit to smolder into ash.

'Get ready my dearest friend they have bound my wings, they've found you.'

Gaze snapping to the communicator that sat atop the end table next to the hard leather cover of your recent read the screen illuminated. No one ever messaged you unless they wanted something from you, or it was an emergency.

Nimbly dancing around the furniture that littered your path, your large, clawed manus lifted the device to your line of sight. It was from Philza. The text a whispered message.

>(Y/n) whispered to Ph1lzA< What do you mean 'they've found you'? Who is it?

Panic slowly installed itself into the core of your stomach as the whisper sent, jumping around like an energetic puppy being taunted with an afternoon walk.

Who found you?

What did they want?

They bound his wings?

Did he mean Chat?

Seconds felt like eons as your (e/c) hues stare daggers into the electronic device. If looks could kill, that communicator would be fine ribbons.

>Ph1lzA whispered to you< The Buther army, they found your compasses. I don't have much longer for they are confiscating the communicator, be safe m8.

Shit.

The Buther Army, a battalion of men who seek vengeance on the ones who've wronged them, and it looks that you were one of the people at the top of that list.

Your rounded ear flicked as a stoic expression stoned your features into a thin but serious line. You needed to prepare.

Instantly your hands got to work, thumbing through the pages of your brewery book, collecting the needed supplies to whip up the potions you would undoubtably be needing to face multiple men alone. The house reeked of panic as your lip pulled into a focused snarl, revealing the sharp edges of your canines, jabbing the stick to your grinding bowl against the fragile blaze rod you spun the wand, crushing the rod into a fine powder to then be turned into strength potions.

Your dark tinted armor sat on a nearby armor stand prepared and enchanted, ready for usage, in the stands hand a glistening netherite sword that shone with enchantments, in the other a bow that too sang with advanced enchants. (Technobalde had helped you find the best enchantments and how to get them).

A nearby stand bubbled as the brewing came to a finish to which you swiftly slid into your hotbar, storing the rest in the slots of your inventory. Minutes turned to hours as your grueling work was done.

Fixing the strap of your armor your pawed feet slid into the metal of your boots that had been tailored by the great Puffy herself, lords bless that woman's soft soul. With the dusting of your shoulder to rid of the red stone dust, gun powder and blaze powder you were ready, body reverberating with fluctuating anxiety that gnawed at the core of your mind, clouding it with blurry cotton.

They were bound to approach you first since you were undoubtedly closer to the reconstructing nation built off of corruption and pain and you were sure Philza had messaged Technoblade to inform him of the approaching battalion that approached your home radiating malice.

Fixing your sights on the carpet that sat at the foot of the rocking chair that you sat in just moments ago you eyed the fabric remembering what lied beneath. Swiftly making your way towards the said furniture you tossed the carpet aside revealing the trap door it concealed.

A growl left your throat as the front door vibrated from the vigorous pounding as the lock held it in place.

"(Y/n) Step out of your home and surrender your weapons." A venomous voice demanded firmly as the sound of metal on metal made it to your rounded hybrid ears, four, that's how many shadows' you'd counted from beneath the door.

The power behind each knock grew potent as you slipped down the hatch, the voice of Quackity being deafened by the banging door.

Grabbing the legs of the rocking chair you swiftly pulled it over the hatch as it rested on your head against the cold metal of your helmet. At this point the knocking was no longer but the hard thud of a boot colliding with the now splintering wood you lowered the hatch still covered with the carpet down. And with that you began climbing down just as the door was thrown against your wallpapered walls.

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!" The duck hybrids voice reeked with sour venom as he spoke, you could hear the group of boots thumping against the floorboards over your head. "WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT BEAR!" His voice seethed hatefully.

Your boots hit the stone of the tunnel that stretched farther than you would have liked but this here hall of cold stone is what divided you from being captured and possibly killed and freedom that shown just beyond that faintly glowing opening just a few yards away.

"Look at this," Fundy spoke deathly close to your hatch as the sound of furniture being tossed aside like a child's toy made it to your ears a deep odious chortle radiated the bird man's throat as the hatch was thrown open. Thats when the two of you made eye contact. A snarky smirk pulled at the corners of your lips as a two fingered solute was directed to the seething Quackity clad in netherite armor.

enraged vociferation erupted as you slid a speed potion from your belt and popping the cork before again glancing up at the winged man who scaled swiftly down the ladder, earth brown hues that burned with a dangerous fire still locked on your form. With a playful chuckle and wink you downed the vials contents that took effect almost as soon as it made contact with your lips, legs pumping, creating distance between you. Capture. And freedom.

The illuminated opening approached rapidly as a crazed adrenaline-filled grin spread across your features. Blood pumped loudly in your rounded bear ears. But as fast as it came it was gone as your euphoria only lasted a few moments; the familiar sound of hissing sounded faintly, even the sound of racing blood and thinning adrenaline it made your whole world slow almost to a stop.

As if time were being manipulated as said, it seemed to slow as you frantically tried to stop your speeding form from the now crumbling wall, the shards blooming from beside your head, the sight just out of your prefrail vision as your armored hands lifted to shield your face.

Like the flip of a switch time returned, your door to freedom slammed shut as your fingers brushed its closing knob. So close but again, so far. Your body was flung back to skid across the stone floor, a few hot morsels slicing through the flesh of your cheek. The sound of shattering glass made you curse loudly as the contents of your potion bottles spilled against the cold floor. Your shock was momentary as you regained your composure, jumping back to your pawed feet clumsily.

The exit was blocked by debris.

There was no way out.

Ringing enveloped your erratic senses, vision blurring together.

The exit was blocked by debris.

There was no way out.

You had to fight.

Guess it's time to sooth your hunger, your thirst for blood.

Turning to face the four who stood in the narrow hall, you lifted your netherite blade in comparison to their four diamond axes that were too raised, ready to strike.

Quackity's chest bounced with entertainment as your form took a battle stance as he lifted his axe, directing the point towards your now bulked form obscured in tainted and matted fur as you huffed, still out of breath from running."(Y/n) (L/N), you are under arrest for the assistance of destroying L'Manberg and being associated with Technoblade. You are here by sentenced. To death..."

"That's great. That's wonderful, but you gotta get outta here Wilbur." Technoblade stated firmly pushing a finger to his temple to sooth the raging voices that roared in his ears whilst pulling the blade from its place on his mantal. The pale skinned ghost turned to face his younger brother as stress knitted into the skin of Techno's brow. "They're gonna come, they're gonna see you- and they- I don't know what they're gonna do to you-" Technoblade turned swiftly to another brewing stand, removing the potions from their spots on his counter, "-I don't know what they're gonna do to me but- I don't think it's gonna be good." Fixing the round vials to his belt, Technoblade lifted the shawl from its hook before swinging it around his shoulders, locking the chain that held it in place.

Ghostbur held his fist to his chest anxiously as he hovered over the wooden floor of his piglin brother's cabin. Technoblade turned to face the transparent male with a sigh, placing a hand on his shoulder before opening the door. "Alright, there are some bad men Wilbur that are coming to get me-" The pink haired male's words halted in his throat as the said ghost exited close behind the taller male. Swiftly making his way towards the spruce fencing that lined the staircase Ghostbur leaned over with wide oxy eyes. With a gasp the man pointed a directed finger to the open field of snow. "Techno look..." Scarlet hues following the older of the two's finger to the open tundra the piglin froze with furrowed brows. "It's a sign!" Wilbur turned back to his younger brother excitement swirling in his glossy black orbs. "Blue!"

"Ghostbur, I need you to take that sheep." Using the tip of his sword to point tot he said animal he looked the ghost of Wilbur Soot in the eyes before speaking again. "And get as far away from here as possible."

Ghostbur's features shifted happily as he excitedly heeded the others warning. "Can I have a leash?" The man questioned innocently rubbing the knitted cuffs of his yellow sweater anxiously. He did NOT like the way the pinkette was acting. The said male rushed back into the house as Ghostbur sat atop of the plywood that connected the fencing rails.

"Yeah, I can go far away," glancing back towards the taller male he watched as Technoblade's large pink ears flicked prudently. "Would it be easier for you if I went far away?"

"Uhh, I just want you to be safe Ghostbur!" Technoblade replied as he lifted the top to another chest, ferreting frantically through it before jumping to another letting the lids fall closed with a loud thud.

"I'm always safe Technoblade, I'm already dead." The ghost floated towards his twin who hastily shoved the lead into his transparent hands, "what are they gonna do? Double kill me?" The brunette chuckled humorously at his own joke but stopped as he saw the glint of desperation in the other man's crimson hues.

"Ghostbur, it's stopped snowing- go as far away as you can or go and hide over a hill or something, alright?" Leading the ghost out of the door he raked a clammy palm through his infrared locks as the said other contently bound from the lifted porch, lead in hand as he approached the animal, latching it to the lead and softly tugging it towards a nearby hill cameoed in thick pine. "Bye bye Techno, have fun preparing for the event!"

Returning back to sporadically searching through the many chests that lined the walls he retrieved what he saw fit for battle, the paranoia that devoured his mind making things all the lot harder.

Were they only going after him?

What if they hurt Ghostbur?

Was Phil okay?

Were you okay?

It had been a good long while since the God of Blood had fought another, it had been too long since his hands knew the form of his hands wrapped around the hilt of a sword tainted with blood. Maybe if things weren't as he seemed it wouldn't come to that, maybe he could negotiate with the ensemble to prevent spilling blood. He was a retired man, he sworn against violence a long time ago and sought refuge within the snowy tundra to live out his retirement.

Chatter awoke the man from his thoughts as a pink bore ear flicked towards the source, crouching low the man clad in red and netherite tip toed his way towards the window where the voices seemed to grow louder. Using his index finger to lift the cloth of his drapes Technoblade peered through the thick sheets of glass softly blanketed with frost and fog.

Swiping a hand across the glass he peeked into the night where he saw Ghostbur chatting contently with the netherite wearing men. "He got captured IMIDIATELY, I've never seen a man get captured to quick holy Hell." The said ghost glanced towards the cottage every so often he gave a polite wave before pointing excitedly towards the windows.

"Shit, no, no don't wave at me- NO, DON'T POINT AT ME! DID HE JUST TURN AND POINT AT ME!" Pinching the bridge of his nose Technoblade groaned out in despair before sighing heavily before again peeking out the window, a bead of sweat dripping down his chin.

"Oh crap, they have full enchanted netherite- I thought they were broke-" The man chuckled to himself before lifting the curtain a bit higher to see what was happening despite not being able to hear the conversation. Almost instantly Ghostbur's face brightened impossibly bigger as he frantically waved at the man in the window.

Dropping the curtain, the man pressed the heels of his palm into his eyes with a groan of complaint. Standing from his crouched position he pulled the curtain all the way open only to cry out in complaint as Ghostbur ran enthusiastically towards the cottage.

"HEY TECHNOBLADE! They say they're gonna kill you Technoblade-" Opening the wooden doors Ghostbur invited himself in approaching the nether beast.

Technoblade lurched forwards to catch the door handle as Ghostbur again made his way outside, "Ghostbur- why- why are you leading them over to my house Wilbur- why are you doing this?" Ignoring his brother's words of betrayal Ghostbur turned to face the others scarred face. "What would you like me to say back to them?" Glancing towards the hill that the group of now four stood Technoblade eyed them wearily.

"Uh, how about you look at them and tell them that I'm not here."

Ghostbur's brows furrowed tightly. "But that'd be lying, I don't like lying!"

"We- THEY'RE GOING TO KILL ME WHY ARE YOU NOT OKAY WITH LYING!? Aaand they're all here- and their all right outside my house- Thanks Ghostbur" standing on the flight of stairs Technoblade puffed out his chest as he clutched the hilt of his sword closer unsure to use it or not.

"Oh, Hello again Technoblade." Quackity's lips pulled into a wicked grin as Tubbo fixed the handle of his hatchet in his hand.

"Uh, hello guy's, why have you guys come all the way over here- to my humble abode?" The said man descended the stairs where he stood a few moments ago as he eyed the Four before him. Quackity, Fundy, Ranboo and Tubbo. Where was the third?

Tubbo stepped forwards with a slight tremble in his stance as he spoke with a wavering voice. "Technoblade." He inhaled. "You need to pay for your war crimes."

"Woah, woah, woah, that was in the past man, alright? That was a different Technoblade. I'm a changed man now! I'm in retirement, I'm a good person now Tubbo." Here he went, negotiation, maybe he would be able to change their minds with assurance.

Quackity hummed in denial whilst shaking his head, nose scrunching with malice as he lifted his axe to point at the man who stood before him the sheen of antipathy grew thicker with each passing second. "Techno, you and (Y/n) exploded L'Manberg with fucking-"

"You two literally spawned withers EVERYWHERE!" Tubbo cut in, placing a firm hand to the ravenette's shoulder.

Shrugging the brunette's hand away the duck hybrid stepped forwards slightly, mock understanding lacing his already ill toned voice. "I'm sorry Technoblade, but you two need to be brought to justice for that. And there is nothing I can do to change that" The male shrugged boldly, spinning the blade of his axe in his hand.

"Okay- Listen you guys, I've gone through so much effort over the past months to change my violent ways, I have reformed alright?" Lifting an empty hand to his head an index finger jabbed into the flesh of his temple as he spoke again. "The VOICES demand blood, and I- I have been denying THEM! I've been fighting back! PLEASE, please don't make kill all of you." Letting his hand drop the other that held the hilt of his sword directed to the four who stood before him before backing away a step. "Please just leave."

A tenseful silence fell upon the men before one spoke again. "Technoblade, please just come peacefully..."

Quackity lifted a hand to silence the president of the broken nation as he nodded firmly with a nonchalant shrug, "you know what, yeah, how about you show us around? Show us what you've been doing while in retirement. Let's do this peacefully."

Technoblade tensed at the raven-haired man's tone as he side stepped away from the four, swiftly approaching the far side of his house hesitantly sliding the sword into its spot on his hip. "I- huh- Well I have Bees' here, aren't they nice?"

Tubbo's eyes lit up slightly now with relaxed shoulders at the mention of his favorite mob, approaching the small makeshift bee farm he placed a hand against the glass as one shimmied its chunky body from the hole of its hive to nuzzle into the flowers that lined the wall. At the sight of this the four others openly approached the bee farm.

With a few wary backpedal steps, the pig hybrid turned on the ball of his heel, sweat gathering at the hair of his brow as he began to run from the distracted battalion of four.

After a few moments and a few feet away shouts of panic instilled as multiple footsteps followed behind the taller male who then skidded to a stop, hands raised in mocking surrender. "Hey, hey, hey, it was just a joke-"

"You know what, fuck it Techno, we tried to do this civilly, but we won't let you out of here in one fucking peice, we are going to fuck you up techno. It's either going to be the easy way or the hard way. We're going to go back to L'Manberg and you're going to come with us. There's no other way around it." Quackity spun his axe skillfully as he took a battle stance.

Technoblade's brows knit together tightly as the voices began to chant.

Blood for the Blood God.

Blood for the Blood God!

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!

His top lip pulled into a snarl revealing the sharpening canines, his figure seeming to take on new heights as patches of fur bloomed across his skin, the armor that sat loose across his stature grew tight as he revealed his full glory.

It was time to sooth their hunger.

With a huff from his snout and the snap of his jaw's he growled. "If that's how it is... I CHOOSE BLOOD!" Ripping the leather belt from his waist he slammed it down, the glass splash vials that lined it shattered coating the beast in its contents as his muscles bulked, eyes grew dilated with speed and the screaming voices, followed with his body ached with regeneration. Technoblade ripped the sword from its sheath as he sprung, blade raised high with the intent to kill.

The sharpened edge dug into the handle of Quackity's axe before unloding it from the wood and hacking down again as the said bird hybrid spun away, avoiding the deadly strike.

Panicked shouting ensued as the group of four scattered, slipping against the sheet of snow.

Turning his attention towards a certain fox featured boy Technoblade dug the hooves of his feet into the frozen forest floor, launching himself forwards delivering an armor crumbling blow. Clutching his now aching ribs Fundy scrambled to escape the beast's power whilst crying out about how God damned heavy, he hit even with the performance enhancing potions.

Sliding just a few feet away was Tubbo, axe at the ready as he charged the pink coated beast that snarled, clouds of hot smoke bellowing from his nostrils as he too charged, scarlet hues glazed with the intent to annihilate to cut down each and every single one of the men who dared disturb his retirement and force him back into the ways of violence, forcing him to collapse under the pressure of the voices to sustain their unquenchable thirst.

Fear replaced the once confident look that crossed his face as the boy turned to run, netherite boots sliding against the frozen ground. A cry of panic escaped the ball in his throat.

"BIG Q DO SOMETHING, BIG Q!" The hook in his boot caught the root of a tree, sending the president tumbling to the forest floor, diamond axe raised as Technoblade's sword collided with the base of the smaller blade, applying pleasure to the hilt of his sword the Piglin beast snarled as Tubbo's arms trembled under the unbearable weight as his emerald hues met with the dilated pair that danced with pain.

Strings of curses fell from Quackity's lips as he glanced about, looking for something to use for leverage, knowing full well he could use his gift but that was needed for more drastic measures.

The blade of the hybrid's sword dug into the flesh of Tubbo's shoulder as he cried out, struggling to push the massive creature away from him in order to escape, but it seemed that no matter how hard he tried, his attempts always went down in vain.

The familiar sound of hooves awoke The Blade from his stoper, snapping his head to the sound he saw Quackity perched on the back of a rearing Carl who whinnied in displeasure before shaking his head in a final attempt to rid of his new rider.

Panicked, Technoblade tore his blade from the other's before turning to face the ravenette.

"WOAH, WOAH, WOAH, WHAT ARE YOU DOING, WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT HORSE QUACKITY!?"

"Technoblade, stop what you're doing, stop right now-"

"Woah, woah, woah, woah, stop what you're doing. Get away from that horse Quackity." Lifting the blood tainted sword, the oversized beast directed it to the man who stirred the reigns of his stallion with a grin, satisfied that he finally found a weakness in the Legendary Technoblade.

"No." Quackity stated with a slight jerk of the reigns that willed the horse into a standing still as he held the handle of his axe to the horse's beige fur. "You get away from them Technoblade. If you pull any shit, I am going to kill Carl. I will fucking slay him if you don't get away from them."

The piglin beast's breathing stuttered as he widely stepped away from the two other hybrids.

"Technoblade, I am going to kill your horse-"

"-Why would you do that?"

"Unless you cooperate."

Technoblade's eyes narrowed as he hesitantly stepped away from the raven-haired man who sat atop his noble steed. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to drop your shit, drop your shit Techno and Carl doesn't get hurt."

With that being said the beast formed man threw his axe into the snow.

"All of it, this is not a negotiation. Drop it all"

Technoblade glanced down at the blood slicked blade that sat light in his large palm before he huffed in what seemed to be amusement. "I can get a new horse if I need too. It doesn't matter." (I know he wouldn't really say this, but for plot's sake, he is.)

Quackity looked slightly taken aback at the statement as the war criminal before him readjusted his grip on the swords hilt. With a stunned huff followed by demented and amused laughter the man on the horse shook his head with a nod.

"For some reason, I knew you'd say that. So that's why I brought you a gift, Technoblade." Digging the heel of his boots into the horse's ribs Quackity approached a small thicker part of the forest where he stopped and turned to face the oversized hybrid.

Lifting a hand, the beanie wearing man spoke with wallowing pride as the gift was shoved from behind the thicket, the sound of chains rattling filled the tense thick air. "May I present to you-" Watching as it landed limply in the snow, Quackity slid from the horses back before hopping towards the thing like a child who was told they could have whatever they wished at the candy store.

Skidding to a stop, Quackity planted both feet on either side of the figure before gripped a fist full of hair, tugging the figures blooded face up from the soiled snow to reveal who it was.

"YOUR ONE AND ONLY APPRENTICE, TADA!!" He sang in excitement that he was finally able to reveal his plan B.

(Y/N) grunted painfully as Technoblade's breath caught in his throat.

Their (h/l) (H/c) locks were matted with dark and now frozen blood that had dripped down the crown of their head before drying, their nose busted and bloodied as clots of blood plugged each nostril, both lips that were now blue from the cold were split so deep that he was sure he could see the younger one's gums that were too painted crimson from their harsh faceplant into the icy ground as shallow and stuttering breaths wheezed past your swollen. The once nice thin clothes that they wore were torn and tattered, tainted with their own crimson whine, you had not been dressed to embark on a trip to the frigid tundra. Your hands were bound behind your back by a pair of copper cuffs. (Copper is what keeps shape shifting hybrids from shifting into their animal form)

But what made his blood turn cold was how deathly pale you were. From what he could see you lost quite a bit of blood while on your way over but the bruises and deep cuts that littered your figure did not make you look any better in any way shape and or form.

Quackity held the handle of his axe with bubbling excitement as he glared challengingly at the shifted man. "Drop your shit Technoblade..."

Technoblade was frozen where he stood, eyes glued to your weakened form. You looked to broken, your (e/c) hues that once glistened with courage and power now sat dull and defenseless, he could have sworn that he saw guilt swirl in those dull eyes of yours.

Gripping the tufts of hair in his hand tighter Quackity lowered the sharpened edge of his diamond axe to rest tightly at the ball of your throat.

"Or I will kill this kid, right in front of you."

"Don't..." Your voice came out hoarse, tone just above a whisper, but he was still able to catch it. "You still have time to r-run."

Tearing his gaze from your shivering form, Technoblade dropped his sword.

His potions.

His crossbow.

Trident.

Golden apples.

All of it, before finally unlatching the hold-knob of his cloak and tossing it to the side and finally letting the glistening crown that sat atop his head clatter to the forest floor alongside his netherite armor.

His hands raised in surrender.

Quackity's brown eyes burned with victory as he removed the weapon from your throat, both of his feet from either side of you were no longer there, letting your head again fall into the snow you were then hoisted up from under your shoulder. Whimpering painfully, you unwillingly leaned against the ravenette for support as he danced giddily before his energetic facade dropped to look Technoblade dead in his rage filled eyes.

"So here is what's going to happen Technoblade, (Y/N). We are going to take you both back to L'Manberg to face trial. Alright?" His voice seethed as the other person he was supporting weakly lifted their head.

"Sounds like... Bull shit..."

Tubbo stood, lips pulled into a thin line. "They just insulted our government..."

Technoblade snapped his head to face the ram. "Oh, we just insulted your, oh your government has been insulted. OHHH!"

I had to put a few of Technoblade's funny moments because I am missing the hell out of that man.

Edited and not proofread

Masterlist

155 notes · View notes

elliot-needs-sleep · 2 years

Note

no thoughts head empty just, storyteller reader. they’re a bit of an odd character, always going around the server and asking about everyone’s day and wanting to learn all the minor details of what they did and writing it all down, which makes people very suspicious of reader when all they want to do is learn about different types of people to write stories. obviously doesn’t help since they haven’t told anyone of their secret passion.

so one day a group of people decide to follow reader throughout the day (they’re suspicious reader is spying for dream or something (i’m thinking maybe the group is the las nevadas crew but it’s your choice) (if it’s the las nevadas crew please add my boy slimecicle i miss him :( )) only to find reader walking around the server and handing out some stories they wrote. the group just sees reader going up to tubbo’s mansion in snowchester to give him stories to read to micheal, going to the arctic to give technoblade some revamped greek myths and stories of epic war heroes inspired by him, writing stories to comfort tommy (i imagine his guilty pleasure is children’s books because he never got to experience childhood and likes to babysit micheal so he can read children’s stories without being judged), etc etc.

my guilty pleasure do be characters being sus of reader and getting proved wrong huh-

yours truly,

gremlin anon

Storyteller

Characters: Quackity, Slimecicle, Fundy, Tommyinnit, Tubbo, Technoblade

Fic Type: longer form

Fandom: DSMP

“Are you really sure this is a good idea?” Fundy asked as he followed Charlie and Quackity out of the casino. Purpled and Sam had both said they wanted no part in this, so it was just the three of them. Charlie shrugged, looking towards Quackity.

“No. But they’re acting weird, don’t you think? They walk around asking people a bunch of random information about their days and then they write it down? That’s some sort of sketchy.” Quackity shook his head, continuing down towards the community house. Why there were heading there, no one knew, but you always tended to be around their, one way or another.

Eventually, the crew did see the person they were trying to find, and Quackity almost punched Charlie hard enough to send him back into the ground because he couldn’t shut up. You seemingly didn’t notice as you walked in the direction of Snowchester.

They followed you through the nether highway and hid once you stepped out outside of the mansion. Tubbo was waiting, holding Micheal in his arms.

Quackity was half hidden behind a tree, Fundy and Charlie down in a small valley behind him. He didn't seem to realize that they weren't paying attention to what was going on in front of them.

"Hello, Tubbo! And hello to you too, Micheal!" You smiled and waved as Tubbo put his son down, who then proceeded to run at you and attach himself to your leg. Tubbo shook his head, but his smile indicated that this was a normal thing.

"Here, I had a lot of fun writing these! Some of them are based off of what Tommy's told me about the rest of the server, and Ghostbur's antics from.... Before. I think he'll enjoy them!" He takes the leather bound book from your hands as his son detaches himself from your shin.

"Thank you. We'll see you later, c'mon Micheal." Tubbo leads his son away as you wave goodbye, and hop back into the nether portal.

"That... Was weird. What did they give him?" Quackity looks towards Fundy and Charlie, who were currently finishing off decorating a snow golem.

"Were you two not paying attention at all?" He asks, incredulously, and they both shrug, following you through the back of the nether portal.

"Ughhhhh, you two are the WORST spies ever to be on this server. Even Tommy was better than you guys!" Charlie just sticks his tongue out at Quackity. Little did they know, you were absolutely aware of them following you. They weren't exactly quiet, after all.

Quackity and Charlie bickered the entire way as they followed you in the direction of Techno's base. Fundy was the only one focused enough to wonder why you were heading towards the blood god?

"Guys... we're right near Techno's base. Maybe we shouldn't follow them through?" Fundy stood furthest from the glowing purple portal, the only real light near them. Quackity shook his head, stepping within the frame with Charlie.

"We need to find out what they're up to! C'mon, Fundy, hurry up!" And with that, the portal warped as Charlie and Quackity vanished. Fundy sighed, stepping within the frame as well.

"Is Tommy here, too?" You asked Techno as he stood in the snow in front of you. The Las Nevadas crew couldn't understand how you weren't even slightly intimidated by the piglin hybrid in front of you. You seemed perfectly at home, despite his history on the server.

"Yes, he made his house in my basement, remember?" As if the blond was summoned by sheer will, Tommy was at the door and smiling at you.

"Tommy! Here you go, it took a tiny bit, but I got a lot of inspiration from Niki and her house! There's one that's a tad bit personal to you, but the rest should be okay to read to Micheal, so you shouldn't need to worry!" You beamed at him, and he took the book with a smile, waving goodbye as he yelled his thanks, running back into the small house.

"And for you, Techno, a few reimagined pieces from Greek mythology, and some original ones too! I hope you like them, I've gotta head back though, I need inspiration somehow!" You waved goodbye to the blood god, and the Las Nevadas crew hurried back into the portal before being spotted.

"I knew you three were following me!" Your arms were crossed as you stepped out of the portal behind them, and Quackity turned to glare at you.

"We thought you were doing something wrong-" He started, and Charlie interrupted, peaking around Quackity to look at you.

"What were you doing, by the way?" You tilted your head slightly. They didn't know about your hobby?

"I'm a writer? I thought everyone here knew that. I get inspiration from other people, and a few even have me write a few stories for them regularly, like Tubbo." You explain, walking past them down towards the portal at Las Nevadas, figuring you might as well make sure they stop following you around.

"Oh... is that really what you do?" Quackity ran up beside you, with Fundy and Charlie tailing behind. You rolled your eyes at him, nodding slowly.

"Why would I even lie about it? It's common knowledge. Ask Techno, or Tommy, or Tubbo, or Sam and Purpled for that matter. they've known for awhile now, actually."

------------

"You knew and still let us follow them?!?!" Quackity yelled from across the casino, and he could hear Purpled laugh from somewhere as he hunted down Sam.

"I thought it would be easier to just let you find out yourself." Sam shrugged, completely ignoring the angry Quackity in front of him. "I mean, you were going to make a fool of yourself either way."

"YOU-"

243 notes · View notes

blackout174 · 2 years

Text

Disregard (part two)

Technoblade x Reader

Can be inferred as platonic or romantic

Tw: Arguing, Chase, Kidnapping, Dick kicking but he deserves it, Swearing.

Part 1

You hadn't talked with Techno for weeks.

Ignoring the buzz of your communicator, the letters that had been sent by crow, hell, even when Techno had apparently gotten Niki to come bang on your door, only to be met with a 'fuck off'.

You were just so god damn angry.

I mean, how could you not be? He never listened, and you clench your fist at all the times you'd have to talk to the others around and convince them not to go and try again to put his head on a stick. And when he commits more warcrimes it's even harder.

"Y/n? Hey it's Big Q, I wanna talk to ya."

You shoot up at the sound and the nickname. You knew to be wary of Quackity.

But he knew that after Techno threatened to take his other eye he'd...

Huh.

You had forgotten about that.

You sighed and after grabbing an axe, warily made your way to the door and cracked it open a smidge.

He leans to look at you and gives a smile.

You don't smile back.

"... What do you want, Quackity?"

He sighs and then oddly enough... chuckles.

You feel your hairs sick on end and you grip your axe harder.

"What's so funny? If you just came here to laugh at me then you can go fuck yourse-"

You cut off by a green hand yanking the door open and you feel a hard kick to your stomach.

You roll and regain your bearings quickly, just in time to fucking move.

You doge Sam and bring your axe down on this shoulder.

You see sparks and hear a hiss as you throw yourself up your stairs and towards your communicator, with Sam and Quackity right on your heels.

You clicked on Technoblades icon just as Sam made it up the stairs.

You have 23 new messages!

You roll out of the way and jump the railing back onto the stairs and you curse as you feel your ankle bend in ways it shouldn't.

You select 'New Compose'.

Y/n: trap, quackery and san dont liztem sj had hgyrsxiggd

You feel Sam jump on your back and you manage to click 'send' on your comm before you turn and flail.

He drags you up with your arms behind your back and in a last attempt to flee you raise your leg up-

-and kick him in the dick.

You feel the hold on your arms go slack as Sam yells out a 'FUCK' and you grab your comm and dip, Quackity right on your heels.

You run through the trees, a birch forest as you look at your comm once more.

You have 3 new messages!

TB: What? Whats happening?

TB: Y/n?

TB: Hang in there, Phil and I are coming.

You realize with your bad ankle that you'll never outrun Quackity.

Fuck.

Shitshitshit.

Wow.

You look at your comm once more and decide to send one more message.

Might be your last.

....

Technoblade wouldn't see that message till he got to your house with Phil.

He would shout your name and feel a sense of dread as he gets no answer back.

He looks about your house and sees things knocked down and broken, and he can just about smell Sam and Quackity it here.

He feels anger.

The voices swarm with cries of vengeance.

Find her

Gouge out his eyes

Blood for the Blood God

He finds a note with a poker chick sitting on it, and he just about snaps the chip in half.

'Meet at Pandora's Vault.'

He finally, finally, checks his comm and he feels his heart drop.

You have 1 new message.

His grip tightens as he vows to get you back.

Y/n: Sorry.

-----------------------------------

I lied.

No fluff, only cry.

#technoblade #dream smp #c!techno #technoblade x reader #platonic or romantic #technoblade angst #platonic

140 notes · View notes

average-vibe · 6 months

Text

SBI reacting to u sleeping on them :)

summary: it’s in the title lol

pairings: techno x reader (platonic or romantic) philza x reader (platonic) wilbur x reader(meant to be romantic but platonic too), and tommy x reader (romantic or platonic)

warnings: swearing

a/n: sup.

masterlist

PHILZA MINECRAFT

You and phil were chilling on the couch, your head gently rested on his shoulders, watching TV.

“see, i don’t know why he didn’t-“ phil said, before the sound of your snoring filled his ears. “er, mate?” he said, lightly tapping your head, to no response. phil turned the TV down, and tried to make you more comfy without awaking you. when one of his noisy sons would come in, he would tell them to, and i quote, “shut the fuck up, are you fucking blind?” in a whisper yell. when you woke up, he chuckled, and asked, “are you done?”, and proceeded to cackle at your horrified face

extra things:

WOULD NOT GET UP. EVER. HUNGRY? GOTTA WAIT, YNS ASLEEP.

knows how to handle it bc he has 3 sons and 3 more adopted kids, including you.

would tell wilbur to “stop playing your fucking guitar, someone’s trying to get their beauty sleep.”

TECHNOBLADE (fly high)

you laid on top of techno, arms draped around his sides, like this

you were really tired that day, and really wanted some rest. everyone else was out at wilbur’s gig, and techno was your best option.

“eH?” was all techno said when you asked if you could cuddle with him. “why would i do that?” was the next thing

eventually, you bribed him by letting him read you greek mythology, and after some begging, he finally gave in and, will rolled eyes, let you climb onto him.

you listened to him ramble on about how cool some of the gods were, his voice putting your brain to rest. as he rambled, he noticed your breathing getting quieter, and you stopped moving.

“hey? yn?” he whispered, before finally realizing you were sound asleep.

both mortified and in appreciation of you, he quietly sat there, letting you rest. every once in a while he’s tap on you, to see if you had woken up yet, but your still body didn’t budge.

when the boys got home, their ruckus woke you up. and techno was fully prepared to fight them.

EXTRA STUFF

if you started showing that you were cold, he would put his cloak on you without second thought.

when you’ve okie up, he just smirked and said, “welcome.”

WILBUR

you came into his room after school, tired and worn out of the day.

“hey.” wil said, strumming his guitar, smiling.

“hey. can i sleep in here? i wanna be in a quiet room” you said.

“yeah, cmon.” he said, setting his guitar down on the ground and laying down, patting himself like a chair.

“on you?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“of course.” wil said, smiling. you laid down on him, quickly feeling comfortable and at home.

eventually, you both fell asleep, just like this:

EXTRA STUFF:

every once in a while, he would wipe some hair out of your face and hold your cheek.

forehead kisses. obviously.

TOMMYINNIT

when you first walked into his room asking to sleep, he looked horrified

“i beg your fucking pardon?” he asked, as you giggled your head off.

“alright fine.” he eventually muttered, opening his lanky arms to let you come into his arms

you climbed into his arms, and you couldn’t ignore the look of adoration he gave you.

you fell asleep in his arms, like this:

EXTRA STUFF

when wilbur found you two, tommy immediately whisper screamed at him to fuck off

he stared at you for the entire time, just admiring you :)

#wilbur soot fluff #tommyinnit x reader #sbi x reader #fluff #philza x reader #philza #technoblade #technoblade x reader #sbi #fanfic #mcyt #mcyt x reader #dsmp x you #dsmp

471 notes · View notes

reallyromealone · 4 months

Note

May i request a part to to the yamazawa family x cat reader?

Title: techno cats U.A adventure

Fandom: Mha

Pairing: cat! Reader x Yamazawa family

Warnings: male reader, fluff, cat reader, platonic

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

Nedzu smiled at the little kitten who trotted behind him, a rescue that Aizawa and Yamada got and was still very small "if I'm correct you're not supposed to be out of your dorm" Nedzu said lightly chastising the kitten who tilted his head "no one was home" the kittens voice was slightly echoed, childlike and innocent-- frankly a little unnerving. "So you went to go find your humans?" "Uh-huh!" Nedzu was fond of his fellow quirked friends, knowing they had a hard upbringing and was thankful (name) found a good home.

"Here you go little one" it wasn't tea, instead a saucer of milk that the void cat stretched to sniff before licking happily "my, don't you have a wonderful quirk" Nedzu was absolutely facinated with it, the possibilities of it "tell me little one, if you stretch to much do you get tired?"

"Huh?" The kits face covered in milk and thought "yeah! My body gets hurted after!"

"Your body hurts after?" Well he was moving like putty, maybe that was his limit...

"Well if you like, I would like to see just what you can do, would you be willing to do that little one?"

"I gotta ask my momma first"

"Your mother?"

Aizawa wasn't sure what to expect as Nedzu and his cat trotted, the kittens ghostly meows of excitement when he trotted to the other and Nedzu was giggling "so this is your mother?" The kitten made a little chirp sound as he let Aizawa lift him, the class looking at the void kitten curiously, his little blue and red eyes blinking curiously. "What?" Aizawa was confused at being called a mother "this little one thinks you're his mother!" Nedzu said happily, Aizawa was a bit embarrassed but it would be logical as he was the one to feed the kit every hour and tend to him.

"He needs your permission to have a quirk based test " at this point the three stepped out and Aizawa looked skeptical "what kind of test, he's a baby after all"

"Oh just simple flash cards and such! Maybe to see exactly what his quirk can do!" Nedzu wasn't a monster, he wasn't about to hurt the little mouse who looked at him so sweetly, he didn't care for human babies but animal babes? He was much softer towards. "We can arrange something, do you think you could take him back to the dorm? I don't want the little brat to get into stuff"

When Aizawa went back to class the students looked at him starry eyed "sir! Was that your pet?!" "What was that!" "Why did it look like that?!"

Aizawa activated his quirk, the students quieting down fast as he spoke "that is my kitten yes, he looks like that because he has a quirk that makes him what could best be described as a void-- bud body moves like putty"

"Can we meet him?!"

"Pass the test and sure"

"What test?"

"The one were doing right now"

(Name) was confused as he sat before Nedzu and his mamas "ok little mouse, we need you to wear something, it's for your safety alright?" Nedzu translated to the kitten who tilted his head at the collar "let me know if it's to tight little one" nedzu wasn't fond of collars, frankly he couldn't stand them but they couldn't exactly chip the little one and since he had a pension for wandering it was best to know where he was.

"You look so handsome!"

"Good job buddy!"

Encouraging words as the collar was placed on (name), the kitten confused as his little body stretched to look at what was around his neck, the stretch making the collar loose around his neck "we may need to work on something that works with his quirk... Normal dollars wouldn't be great"

"Well well, if it isn't the little adventurer" Yamada cooed at the kitten who was playing with a toy, little feet kicking it as he bit "went all around U.A before stumbling across Nedzu" Aizawa said as he set down his bag, Eri giggling at the kitten who accidentally hit his face, looking thoroughly startled as Yamada pet his head "such a handsome little man!" (Name)s fur(?) Rippled as he purred, the 3D glasses affect getting more vibrant as he stretched his legs out, stretching like taffee before slowly snapping back to their normal tiny size "good boy! I heard you think Sho is your mama! Wonder what you think I am~"

Also mama but (name) couldn't be understood.

Yamada was cooking dinner, Eri watching her cartoons post bath and Aizawa was grading papers as (name) stretched on his lap, spending the evening playing with Eri always pooped him out after all. Aizawa gently pet him, knowing the spots that made the kitten quite literally melt in his lap as his purrs looked waves against water.

Truly he was at his most relaxed.

Tonight he slept with Eri,sleeping on her pillow, not even denting it as they were cozy, the girl cuddling her toy giraffe without a worry.

#male reader #bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #mha x male reader #mha x reader #cat reader #cat male reader #x male reader #anime x male reader #anime x reader

223 notes · View notes

mysticalsoot · 6 months

Text

someone to live with

part 2 to someone to (not) die with

➸ note; i know i said id post this at 8- but I was watching heartland with my mom and like.. sobbed like a baby anyways, hope you enjoy!!

➸ pairing; revivebur x gn!reader // c!wilbur x gn!reader

➸ summary; after wilbur's death and a too long to think, you ask your sister to help you. she does but maybe her methods work a bit too well.

➸ warning; slight hurt/big comfort, suicide mentions, kissing, easily forgiving reader, ghostbur goes to a happy limbo, probably swearing

➸ age-rating; 15+

➸ wordcount; 3.1k

main masterlist // part 1

wilbur's funeral was quicker than most, and not many people showed up. if anything, it was mostly you and his father and brothers. Niki came by, your sister Grace did too. but in all honesty, not many people bothered to pay their respects.

you also kept it quiet, taking a few days before the funeral to really let everything sink in, to let the fact he left the bouquet you gave him on the spot he wanted to be buried. it was just by the hill he used to sit on, the one he took you to and told you all about his dreams for the future. for lmanburg and for the future you both hoped to share.

you wouldn't be sharing that future now.

despite that; the time since wilbur's death went by slowly, and was utterly agonizing. your home felt colder, although it could've been winter slowly creeping up, you chalked it up to the lack of your partner. or maybe it was his ghost that wandered your halls that emanated that cold. or maybe he just contributed to it. whatever it was, you found yourself spending more time out in the snow sitting by his grave than sitting by the fire in your living room.

you'd talk to him, or rather the corpse of his that was buried a few feet down in a hand built coffin that his older brother forged through anger. Techno wasn't known for tears.

but you were. you wouldn't be surprised if your tears eventually froze over whenever you spoke to his grave, as the days were getting colder and the chill of the wind started to burn your cheeks.

ghostbur was nice, you thought. a nice distraction. he was kind and sweet and he was all the good of Wilbur and more. he wasn't Wilbur, he made that clear, but you knew that the moment you met him. he caught you on a less than good day, wandering around your house, mindlessly walking the halls and dissociating to the point you weren't sure what was going on or where you were.

but he came knocking on your doorstep, friend behind him. you took him in, since he had nowhere else to go. you helped him stable up friend, put him in the pen and set him up in the fields while you brought ghost in and helped him warm up. you kept him away from the snow and cold, helping him become afloat again. he stayed back with you, keeping an eye on you and giving you blue any time he could. he loved spending time with you, caring for you.

he was a good friend, and he hoped that's what he always would be.

no matter how many times you'd tell him how wonderful of a friend he was, he wouldn't believe it. even when you brought up the time he saved you a week after he walked into your life. you were so close to ending it all, jumping off the edge and joining your wilbur. but he stopped you, he managed to talk you down and he held you and promised to protect you, and that he did. he protected you, he cared for you and even if your relationship was platonic at best, he was a wonderful partner.

meanwhile, wilbur was pent up in limbo. pacing the platform, listening to the sounds of the train passing by not once stopping for him. he was going crazy, mind you he already was, but this was a whole new level.

there wasn't much to do up there, time passed so much more slowly. there weren't any books to busy him with, all he could do was sit and listen to the screeching and taunting of the train. the sounds drove him mad, a constant reminder of what he can never reach, what he can't get back. what he destroyed with his selfish ways.

he nearly ripped his hair out, with the way regret and stress was eating at his dead form. he was tired, lost and he couldn't get it out of his mind what mistakes he'd made. the long list of things he'd ruined with his own presence.

sometimes he'd wonder if it's better that he's dead. maybe he shouldn't bother with troubling thoughts of how to get back. you must be thriving, he hopes you're thriving.

you weren't. it's crawling up to the two month anniversary, and to say the least, you were losing it. you were good at pretending, pretending that you were okay and healing but in reality; you weren't. you were staying up at night, clinging to his old trench coat and shutting your eyes in hopes you could pretend he was there and would materialize into his coat at any moment. it felt stupid to do this, but it kept you from being pushed onto the ledge.

"Grace?" you whisper, holding your cup of tea close to your chest, sitting behind her counter at her flower shop. your sister was always a safe place for you, especially when you couldn't sift through your thoughts on your own. she helped.

"mm?" she hums, turning to face you with a smile before returning to the flowers she was working on. a small winter themed display for the Christmas festival she was preparing for. as for every other shop owner in L'manburg.

"have you.. have you learnt anything about revival?" you managed to mumble out, eyes casted down on the floor as you set aside your tea.

"I've done some research," you didn't catch the way she froze for a moment, as if she was buffering. and you especially didn't know that her research pertained to reviving the same person you wished to.

"how much?"

"enough." she sighs out, tying a ribbon around the bunch of stems, placing the bouquet on display before cleaning up her workstation.

"how hard is it? to revive someone, I mean." you bit your lip, nearly drawing blood before you quit, looking away again but this time outside the front windows.

"is this about wilbur?"

she didn't need to ask, she already knew. it's always about wilbur. you fidget with your fingers, wringing your hands together as you shrug, "maybe."

"if.. and I mean, if. if you revive him, he may not be the same," Grace frowns, walking over to you and bringing you into a hug. for a younger sister, she acted like an older, doting sister occasionally.

"at least I'll have him back, y'know?" you shrug again, raising your shoulders before dropping them in defeat, leaning deeper into her hug.

"I'll help," she draws in a breath, calculating her next words as she steps back to look at you, "if you promise to not blame anyone but him if he comes back an ass, okay?" she cracks a smile, chuckling softly at her own words as your own lips curl up and you roll your eyes.

"fine-" you pause, mind reeling as you remember ghostbur. how could you hurt him?

"what will happen to ghostbur?"

Grace shrugs, pulling away and turning to grab some more flowers to put together, "he'll be sent to limbo."

"so he'll die?" regret bubbles up in your throat like bile, and your eyes widen at the thought.

"no, no," she starts before stopping, biting her bottom lip, "he'll go to his own limbo."

"is that good?"

her shoulders lift, mouth curled in a frown and uncertainty paints on her face, "in theory, yes. I'm sure he'll be fine. it's- he'll be okay."

"if.. if getting back wil hurts ghost- i- I can't do that to him, Grace," your lips curl downwards and you step into the main area of the shop, grabbing some baby's breath and setting it on the counter by your sister.

"it won't hurt him. i promise," she rests her hand on yours, shooting you a soft and sympathetic gaze.

you take in a breath and nod, "okay, when can we start?"

you were sure that the rivival process was long and tedious, and maybe it was but-- grace liked to work alone. she'd update you when you showed up at her shop every morning, reassuring you that everything was fine.

it was a few days before ghostbur disappeared, which grace warned you about. you just hoped he was okay. despite the lack of the beloved ghost, you still hadn't found wilbur, and Grace was becoming more suspicious.

she avoided your questions, choosing short answers and it seemed like she was pulling herself at both ends, spreading herself thin. you were worried but Tom didn't know anything, and Grace wasn't letting you in on it anytime soon.

"why can't I see them, grace?" wilbur pried, sitting on the bench in the back of Grace's shop.

"I don't trust you yet. you haven't proved to me that you won't hurt them," she toyed with the ribbon she held, melting the ends to keep it from freying.

"you've threatened me enough, I think that's plenty of reason-"

"no, wilbur, you killed yourself and left them off on their own. threatening isn't enough for you to get it through your head that your fucking existence could hurt them! sometimes that's all you do," she scoffs, placing down the ribbon and picking up the next one, sealing the ends again. she takes a moment, listening to the silence of the room, the silence that's fallen on wilbur. she rolls her eyes, huffing before she continues, "I'm sorry, okay? but I've had to watch my sibling suffer because of your decisions, and they suffered longer than you've been dead," she pauses, shutting her eyes and taking a breath before continuing, "I'm not trying to be hard on you, I promise but- just, please understand, wil."

"I know, I know I've hurt them but I promise, I can make it better. weren't they the one that asked to revive me?" he counters, standing up and making his way to stand beside grace, towering over her and resting his hand on her shoulder.

"yes, they were but- I warned them and I just don't want them hurt."

"I won't hurt them," he starts, resting his hands on both her shoulders, "I promise."

she pulls back, "fine, but remember the second I catch wind that you've hurt them, say goodbye to living. and your reproductive organs."

"I think killing me is good enough," he laughs softly, pulling grace into a hug and mumbling, "thank you, so much,"

"yeah, sure."

"I'll see you later, yeah?" wilbur's lips curl into a smile as he practically bounces towards the door. he hurries out of the flower shop, determination taking over and hope filling his veins.

all the while you're out by his grave, again. maybe you should build something in honor of ghostbur, you think. he's not here anymore, hopefully in a better place so surely you should do something to honor his memory. just like you did with wilbur. like you always did.

you sifted your fingers through the grass, tugging at it gently, trying not to fully rip it but just mess with it. your mind runs miles an hour, wandering through thoughts and feelings that haven't quite healed yet.

moss has begun to grow on his headstone, flowers grace planted around it now blooming up around the stone. it's heavily weathered, the words.

'wilbur soot. beloved son, friend, partner, brother and president. 1996-2020.'

they're painted on and the snow and sleet has worn it down, its barely visible. the words ghost on the stone. but you have it memorized, by reading it over before you had it made, and then reading it over and over again for hours every day since his death. like a mantra, even if it has no purpose other than to hurt you.

you'd been sitting there for who knows how long, your fingers felt like icicles but you barely noticed the pricking cold. you weren't sure what you were hoping for, praying for by sitting alone but it was something.

the sound of fabric waving in the wind, and footsteps crunching on the grass, and then the scent hits you; cigarettes and cologne. mixed together and hitting your nose sharply. you bite your lip, letting your breath catch in your throat, not bothering to look behind you.

"wilbur?" you mumble, and then you hear his smile form, a little puff of air let out with it.

"hello, my love," he stands beside you, waiting for you to invite him to sit with you. you glance up at him, mouth slightly agape.

"you're alive."

"yeah, I am. thank god grace let me go. finally-" he chuckles, and for the first time in a while, you smile. a genuine smile.

"what? she kept you cooped up?" you pat the spot beside you, keeping your eyes up on you.

"yes, she did. and she threatened my livelihood," he follows your guide, sitting beside you and letting his legs stretch out before him. you finally catch a glance at the discoloration on his face, the bruises and patches of skin too pale or too tan.

"oh? so she threatened to neuter you?" you meet his eyes finally, smile soft but clear on your face.

"that's her favorite threat," he chuckles softly, fingers twitching as if he was going to reach for you. he takes a sharp breath, looking forward and out on the horizon over the hill. he takes a moment before pulling something out of his trench coat pocket, but you stop him short.

"you grabbed the coat?" you frown, fingers reaching out to play with the fabric, rubbing it between your fingertips. you glance up at him and he finally reaches forward, hand on your cheek and thumb rubbing your skin.

"it wasn't the only thing I grabbed," he sucks in a breath, pulling his hand away and taking out two rings, the rings he left for you, "i found them, on the mantle and i- I wanted to do what I didn't before."

"so you've been in our house?"

"is that what you take from this?" he chuckles, leaning forward and kissing your forehead. to his surprise, you don't flinch away but rather lean into it and sigh.

"maybe, but- are you.."

"proposing? if you're okay with it," he starts, pulling the rings off the string and putting his hand out for yours. you nod and give him your hand. he slips the ring on and begins again, "will you marry me?"

"mmm.. I don't know- will I?" you crack a smile before chuckling softly, "yes, yes I will. idiot."

he pulls you into a hug, your right leg tossed over his lap as you both pull one another closer. and then you pull back and reach your hand out, palm up.

"what?"

"the ring, it's only fair."

"oh?" wilbur smiles, handing you the wedding band he intended on wearing. you slip it on his ring finger before kissing each of his finger tips.

"I missed you,"

"I missed you too," he leans closer, resting his hand on your cheek again and stroking the skin.

"mm, I'm sure you've had plenty of time to miss me," the corner of your mouth twitches upwards into a smirk. you stand up, reaching your hand down for him to take as you help him up to stand. he rests his hands on your hips, squeezing gently before leaving a kiss on your cheek.

"too much time," he mumbles, holding you close and hugging you, "I'm sorry, for all I've done. I know that no words can account for all that I've put you through but I- I hope you can find a way to put up with me."

"don't worry, I forgave you a while ago. you were stupid but, dream is dead and it's because of what you pulled. we have you to thank for that."

"I'm still sorry," he winces, and you grab his hand, leading him back to the cabin as you shrug.

"I know, and you're going to have to do a lot more than say sorry for other people. but for me, you're lucky I missed you so much. otherwise, I probably wouldn't have asked to have you revived."

"I know but-" you shoot him a warning look, silently telling him to shut his trap before he starts whining again, "okay, okay, I get it."

"good, now- let's go enjoy ourselves yeah? get you a shower and go to bed. because, love you, darling but you reek." you chuckle, tugging him by his hand up the stairs of your porch, hurrying in and shutting the door behind you.

he pulls you to him by your hips, swaying you gently before he leans down to pull you into a kiss, lips licking together in a way they haven't in over six months, you think. much longer than he's been dead.

you reach your arms up, wrapping them around his neck as you both tug one another together, your bodies now pressed up. the warmth he spreads wraps around you and you've never felt more at home.

the kiss doesn't end until you both have to gasp for air, and you drop your head to press against his chest. he rubs your back with his hands, gentle circles spun over your shirt.

"do I really reek?" he croons, looking up at the ceiling as your fingers grasp at his shirt.

"yes you do,"

he attempts to get out of it, poking out a gentle pout and you pull back. folding your arms over your chest as you shake your head, smirking at the way he tries to beg like a puppy.

"wilbur- you do realize I was going to make brownies while you showered, right?" you knew the moment you mentioned baked goods, he'd do whatever you asked. he'd do whatever you asked anyway, but a little bribe never hurt anyone.

"wait really?" his eyes light up and his pout falls off and is replaced with an excited grin. you nod and he lunges down to press thankful kisses all over your face, giggling happily as he holds you by your sides, fingers curling over your waist.

"yes- god, you only love me for my baking?"

"no, but it is a plus," he pulls back, placing a quick peck to your lips before sprinting up the stairs for him to shower. you shake your head, smile clear as day on your lips as you venture into the kitchen to begin baking.

despite everything, the pain and turmoil and living without him, you're glad you asked to have him revived, even if it meant some sacrifice. yet the more you think of it, you're gonna have to thank grace for holding your fiance hostage tomorrow.

taglist; @lcvejoy @lillylvjy @ella-fella-bo-bella @lotusanonymouse @willgoldszn @whos-nicooo @zebonos

honorable tags (asked for part 2); @babybabygrogu @tacomumun3r

118 notes · View notes

griffonsgrove · 3 months

Note

Haiii!! These headcanons have been amazing!!! Could I perhaps ask for a Dr.Flug X Reader where they're a famous popstar, please?? tysm!! <3

Dr. Flug X Popstar!Reader

a/n: eeee of course I can write this!! This is a really cute idea, I hope you enjoy!! Im working my way through a few of your guy's requests so bare with me! I plan on maybe doing a few drabbles or headcanons for some other fandoms within the following days so keep a look out for that!

fandom: Villainous/Villainos words: 1026 cw: none! just super cute fluff!

(PLATONIC):

Now that you were starting to gain more and more popularity amongst people, you had been wanting to expand your musical talent to all reaches of life, whether it be good or bad.

Being a famous popstar made it easy to get connections, thankfully, and a little birdie had told you about the infamous ‘Hat Island” that was rumored to be crawling with villains, owned by none other ‘Lord Black Hat’ himself.

You were by no means a saint, let alone a hero, and thought that everyone deserved to have the joy of music, even those of lower status. So what do you do? Schedule a meeting with the most feared villain known to man!

Imagine Flug's surprise when he opens the door to see you standing there.

The man about damn near faints on the spot. A famous super-star, standing right in front of him? AND they're cute?? Oh boy.

He had heard of you when Demencia would loudly blast her music from her boombox, Obnoxious yes, but he would absentmindedly find himself humming your tunes or tapping his foot to the beat while he worked in the lab, much to his dismay.

Eventually that led to him listening to you in his (very little) free time, and he, actually?? Enjoyed?? It??

Now, the tricky part was going to be trying to convince Black Hat to let you hold a concert on his island, This old man intimidated tf out of you, if looks could kill you’d be dead before you even stepped into his office. But, you tried to remain confident.

You offer to pay him for compensation, and give him a small percentage of the profits from your show. How can he refuse that offer? It’s money! He reluctantly agrees to your proposition, and you sign a temporary contract.

For extra gratitude you offer him and his henchman VIP tickets for your show, Black Hat scowls, saying something along the lines of “that frivolous techno music gives me a headache..” But! He doesn't deny his henchmen going!

Of course you don't leave without the eldritch putting the fear of god into you.

Demencia vigorously shakes Flug in excitement, when she finds out they have VIP tickets to your performance, for once the doctor’s eyes light up.

The night of your performance happened to be one of his best memories, he was absolutely enthralled by your singing, and he got to witness all up close!

When he comes backstage to meet you after the show he nearly faints again. You thought he was kind of cute for that really.

You excitedly greet him and his group and chat for a while. Answering questions and sharing stories, you actually find out the two of you have a lot in common! As the evening wraps up you pull him aside privately to give him your number, if he ever wanted to chat. HE NEARLY FAINTS AGAIN.

(ROMANTIC):

That’s how you two began talking. You texted frequently, excitedly sharing each other's interests. Sometimes you’d snap a photo before or after a performance, and he’d send you pictures of his latest invention, or his model airplane collection.

It’s actually you, that ends up asking him out on a date. Through a video call, his reaction was adorable, he looked almost in disbelief but dumbly nodded his head to your confession.

The both of you lead busy lives, so you carefully plan out when you can visit and when he can get the time off. (He sucks up to Black Hat for an entire week).

You settle on something quiet and not far away, you didn’t want to be bombarded by fans or paparazzi during your small visit. It’s at a small cafe, Flug claimed it made the best coffee he’s ever had.

He watches all of your shows btw. Man’s is committed. Whether that be streaming the concert on his phone while he works or going to your shows/events in person whenever you visit the island again. It’s also a plus that he enjoys your music!

You singing to him, ouGHHHH. He’s starstruck every time, entranced by your voice. He really thinks of you as an angel, maybe a siren.

Love songs!! You write several dedicated to him while your dating, he nearly cries when you reveal this to him. Who am I kidding? He totally cried.

He makes you cute little gadgets to make your life a little easier. Like a custom-made microphone for your shows, you use it every time <3.

You SPOIL him. You get that bag (pun intended) and you think he deserves to be treated with everything he could possibly want.

If you ever meet 5.0.5 you best believe you’re treating that bear like your own son. He’s such a sweetie, how could you not? And if you sing him little lullabies to help him fall asleep?? Flug’s heart almost bursts out of his chest. How did he get so lucky??

He often wonders how he bagged you (pun intended). He's pretty insecure of himself already, it really is a mystery to him. He almost feels like he doesn't deserve any of it at all. But of course, you see right through his act, and reassure him endlessly.

You both keep the relationship on the downlow, mainly for your sake. He didn't want your reputation to be ruined if the press found out you were dating a notorious supervillain. You had told him you didn't care what the public thought, but he insisted.

There are numerous photos of you on his phone, not in a creepy way though. Most of them are selfies of two of you, or from photoshoots/concerts. He def has you as his screensaver.

You loooove peppering his bagged face with kisses. He gets so flustered it's adorable!! He secretly loves them. If you wear lipstick, you love seeing the aftermath of your kiss attack, his face painted in a lovely shade of red.

Overall, being in a long-distance relationship definitely has its ups and downs, but Flug thinks it’s all worth it, especially for you, he’s willing to give it a try. How romantic.

#black hat organization #villainous #dr flug #x reader #dr flug x reader #headcanons #villainos #dating headcanons #black hat villainous #blackhat #drflug #drflugxreader #plsprotecthimatallcostoHMYGOD #gender neutral reader #popstar!reader

84 notes · View notes

soaringthroughthegalaxy · 4 months

Text

Wash Away the Pain #1 - Echo

Returning to Kamino following a string of back-to-back missions after Anaxes, Echo receives the news he never wanted to hear.

Pairing: Echo x gn!reader (can be seen as platonic or romantic)

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: whump, reference to Fives death, Echo has self-esteem issues, mourning and grief, hurt and comfort, you and the boys rally around Echo, bittersweet ending.

A/N: I was heavily inspired by these gorgeous drawings by @thattoothpick.

This is part of a mini-series where each of our boys will get their sad/angsty shower time, but they can be read as standalones.

Check out the whole series: Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair.

The sound of falling water drowned out everything else in the fresher, the water temperature so hot it should’ve been uncomfortable, but after years in cryofreeze, Echo welcomed the heat.

He was gone.

He was really gone.

“I’m sorry, Echo. I really am. He should’ve been stunned. I still don’t know why it went down like that.”

Rex’s voice as he’d broken the news still rang in his head. Echo had received a message from him only an hour ago, after you’d all landed on Kamino following a string of back-to-back missions following Anaxes. He’d thought they would just shoot the breeze like old times. He hadn’t expected this.

Echo’s eyes drop, fixating on the metal legs the Techno Union had attached to his body. The scomp on his right arm, the ports littering his body. Self-loathing coils through him.

Why did he get to live? Why was he turned into a machine while Fives died, lost in panic, in a dirty Coruscant street? The only saving grace was that Rex had been there to hold him.

So lost in his thoughts, Echo misses the sound of the fresher door opening, of you slipping inside and shutting it behind you.

Echo might’ve only been with you and the boys for a few weeks, but you’d quickly grown fond of him. So much so that when he’d returned to the barracks 10 minutes ago, crest-fallen, clutching a bucket painted in the colours of the 501st, and then promptly headed for the fresher without so much as a word, you’d known something was wrong. Your datapad had pinged a few moments later, a message from Rex filling you in, asking you to keep an eye on Echo – as if you wouldn’t have done that.

Physically, he was fine, albeit still getting used to his new body. As the squads nat-born medic, called in because of the inability of your boys to get along with regs, it was your job to look after their wellbeing. And now it seemed Echo needed some care.

You step into the shower behind him, not caring that you’re still clothed, and slowly press a hand to his back. Echo jolts at the touch, caught off-guard, turning in place to meet your gaze. With space tight on the Marauder and sharing barracks, seeing the boys in various states of undress had become commonplace. Heck, half the time, they had to be stripped out of their ruined blacks when injured. The nudity no longer bothered any of you. Echo had adapted to it quickly, too.

“Echo…” His name falls from your lips quietly, hand rising to cup his face. His head tilts away from your gaze, taking your hand with him. Thumb smoothing across his gaunt cheek, you watch as a myriad of emotions flit across his face.

Echo’s eyes were now clouded with grief and guilt. The water from the shower mixes with the tears streaming down his face, creating a bittersweet cascade that mirrored the turmoil within him.

“I should’ve been there,” Echo mutters, his voice strained and filled with regret. “I should’ve protected him. He’s gone because of me.”

Your heart aches for him, and you rest your free hand on his waist, pulling him closer. The prosthetic attachments on his body feel cold against your skin – even with the shower’s heat – a stark reminder of his sacrifices for the Republic. “Echo, you couldn’t have known. You’ve been through so much. Don’t blame yourself.”

He shakes his head, a mix of frustration and sorrow in his eyes. “I can’t shake the feeling that I failed him. And now I’m just a machine, a reminder of everything we lost.”

You gently trace the contours of the implants on his arm, your fingers dancing over the hard surface. “You’re not just a machine, Echo. You’re a survivor. You’re still here.”

He finally meets your gaze, and for a moment, he searches your eyes. You don’t know what he’s looking for, but you let him take his time. “I don’t know how to be here without him.” He finally admits.

“You don’t have to have all the answers right now. Grieve, remember, but don’t forget that there are people here who care about you, who want to help you through this.” You tell him softly, the water continuing to pour down around you both.

Echo’s shoulders slump, and he leans into your touch, the warmth of your presence starkly contrasting with the cold metal that now makes up a significant part of him. The weight of loss and survivor’s guilt hangs heavy in the air, but your steady support gives him a small anchor in the storm of his emotions.

“I don’t want to be alone again.” He admits, voice barely above a whisper.

“You never will be.” You assure him, fingers continuing their gentle exploration of the cybernetic enhancements that have become a part of him, wanting to show him that it was okay, that there was nothing wrong with his new body. “We’re all here for you, Echo. The boys, Rex, and I.”

He nods, a silent acknowledgement of your words. The water washes away not just the physical grime but also some of the emotional turmoil that has gripped him since Rex delivered the devastating news.

As the two of you stand in the warmth of the shower, Echo may feel like a machine, a remnant of a past he can’t forget, but your touch, your empathy, reminds him that he’s still human beneath the prosthetics.

Eyes flitting towards the counter just outside the shower cubicle, Echo lets out a small sigh as he looks over his brother’s helmet. Memories of them painting their armour together surface, of the multiple attempts it had taken to get the lines crisp, of Fives dipping his hand in blue paint to reapply the print on Echo’s chestplate.

Following his gaze, a sad smile passes over your lips. “Remembering him doesn’t mean you must carry the weight alone.” You say, voice a gentle murmur. “We’re all here to share the burden. Fives will always be a part of you, and you’ll carry his memory forward.”

Echo's gaze lingers on the helmet. The loss of a brother is a wound that cuts deep, but perhaps, with time and support, the injury could heal into a scar - a testament to the strength it took to endure.

As the water cools, you guide Echo out of the shower. The small space feels intimate and comforting, a refuge from the harsh realities of the galaxy. You hand him a towel, and he begins to dry himself off on autopilot, his mind still processing the emotional whirlwind.

Over the following days, the barracks become a place of healing. The boys rally around Echo, offering support and understanding. When Echo’s new armour is finished – having undergone some modifications courtesy of Tech – they paint it in their colours while you distract Echo in the medbay. You’d also procured some blue paint from Rex, and they make sure to add a small Aurebesh ‘5’ and a fine-line domino to the back of the chestplate.

The tears that had clouded Echo’s gaze as he’d been presented with his new kit and had turned it over to find the hidden tribute were a mixture of sorrow and gratitude. The pain of loss still lingered, but each stroke of the brush, each carefully applied detail, was a silent affirmation that he was not alone.

In the quiet moments, you still find Echo gazing at Five’s helmet, stored securely on the Marauder. But now, there’s a small smile playing on his lips. The pain may never fully fade, but Echo carries the memories of Fives with gratitude for the time they shared, and the squad learns that even in loss, there’s strength in unity.

Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal @littlemissmanga @starrylothcat @cw80831 @dreamie411

#the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #star wars clone wars #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you #tbb x reader #tbb x you #bad batch x reader #bad batch x you #tbb echo x you #tbb echo x reader #tbb echo #arc trooper echo x reader #echo the bad batch #echo x reader #the bad batch echo #arc trooper echo #clone force 99

71 notes · View notes

krabs-quill · 2 years

Note

phantom gn!reader x royal!sbi? platonic of course.

the reader is an old friend of philza's since phantom's have a long life span, maybe they were a potions dealer and phil at the time was a hunter and potion dealers and hunters were known to be a great pair during that era so they kicked it off but split after that era was over and moved to other professions.

the sbi are running away after their kingdom turned against them, and phil led them to a forest to try and find reader? but when they arrive wilbur, or someone else of your choosing, freaks out cause they think phantom hybrids are dangerous and such.

but before he makes a move, reader folds their wings which means 'surrender' in phantom? fluff ensues :D hope this isn't too much. /gen

old phantom phriend - royal!sbi x phantom!reader

characters: royal!philza, royal!tommy, royal!techno, royal!wilbur

main characters pronouns:they/them

trigger warnings: fire, weapons, death threats, mention of cults, cursing, kinda politics but not really???

authors notes: this was like, surprisingly really fun to do? super neat concept, thank you for the request!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phil had everything planned. His sons couldn't have been able to predict the oncoming rebellion, but Phil sure did. He took extra care in ordering only the most trusted servants and guards to keep Tommy, Wilbur and Techno as isolated in the castle as possible, because if they were to go outside in the public eye in the past 6 months, they'd have an arrow in their neck and crimson on the ground.

Only now do they finally see what's going on- rallies being led to the front drawbridge of the castle and a man standing on a wooden crate. He is slim and lanky. In one hand he held a pitchfork the height of two wine cellar barrels stacked up on each other, in the other he held a large wooden pole with the kingdom's flag slowly engulfing in embers. The crowd smells of sweat, ashes and faux justice.

“People of this wretched kingdom!” the man on the wooden crate starts, raising the burning flag high over his head. The large ashes fall into the crowd as he continues. The man's words fall on deaf ears, however, as Phil orders his guards to alert the princes of their sudden urgent departure.

“I can't believe I'm going to see you again- after 40 years and under these circumstances…”

Phil sighs tiredly, discarding his glistening crown on his pristine writing desk, ridding himself of the last piece of physical evidence of his reign.

Knocks rattle through the large oak door of his bedroom, and a guard speaks with a gruff, urgent tone.

“My King, the princes have been escorted out of the castle with their belongings. They are safe and waiting for you at the largest oak tree in the far east of the forest. I'll have to escort you now; and fast. Knights at the front lines have turned on us and they are lowering the drawbridge to the townspeople. Do you have all your personal belongings?”

Phil grabs two large leather bags, intricate designs dance across the straps of each one. After slinging them over his shoulder, he then turns to the wall closest to the large windows.

Hung up on the wall is a longsword. A few scratches on it and a worn handle, but it was loved well and a bow with a sling of obsidian arrows to go with it. Both items have dust covering them as if it's been ages since they've been swung or plucked, Phils fingers quickly grabbing them and cutting through the dusty residue. He nods, following the guard out of his bedroom soon to be ransacked and burned to the ground; his crown placed on the desk surely to be taken by a squalid dictator.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

“PHIL! Phil, what the Fuck is goin on, man?! The whole fuckin towns swarming the castle!”

Tommy yells, his voice panicked and shrill. He stands up immediately from his spot on the lush grass. Taking a good look at him, he carries his own bag prepared by one of his servants before ushering them out of the castle's perimeter. On the surface, he doesn't seem to be equipped with self-defense precautions other than a large rock in his right hand- but Phil can't exactly see into his bag, so he only prays that the former servant packed at least a dagger or something.

“Listen, I'll explain all that later but right now we need to leave, now. It's not safe here anymore, alright?”

Phil glances around to see his other two sons.

Wilbur is seen standing a few feet away, a thousand yard stare as his left foot taps away with what anyone could only assume to be a mania of thoughts on his head. Heavy footsteps circle all three of them, as Techno has been orbiting the small clearance around the large tree. A close look at his stone cold expression makes it clear that he's watching for anyone who could possibly sneak up on the unprepared group.

Wilbur snaps his head up at Phil, “Look at me- Phil. What are we going to do? Because by the look of things, I just happened to notice the rallies of townsfolk with pitchforks and I don't think they seem too happy.” Wilbur babbled.

Techno quickly introjects, voicing his own concerns.

“Listen, how much did you plan for this kinda thing, exactly? Maybe you didn't notice-” he stops pacing, turning to look at the castle in the distance as one of the corner towers erupt into flames from the inside, “-the castles uninhabitable for us anymore, and we're runnin from an entire KINGDOM. So unless you've got some secret life saving plan, now's the time to tell us. Otherwise, I don't see any way we'll be gettin’ out of this.”

All of them are looking at Phil, waiting for an answer to each of their questions. He sighs, pulling out his old longsword from its sheath.

“Techno, take this. So, we absolutely can't go back. I've got a plan, we're going to visit an old friend of mine. And we have to go NOW.”

Phil disclosed, setting off into the woods immediately after. Techno takes the sword hesitantly but wields it like an old friend as he follows directly beside Phil. Tommy sputters concern and shock, but it falls on dead ears. Wilbur is the last to move, standing there looking at where his father once stood with wide, squirrely eyes. He flinches when Tommy calls him to catch up. The boys follow Phil into the thick, suffocating woods.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Each bird that rustles the trees or deer that steps on the dry grass makes the entire group stop each time it happens. Phil has his bow and arrow up and ready, pointed towards the ground as he walks with a cautious eye.

Techno holds the blade of his sword across his body, ready in case an unruly visitor decides to make an unforeseen appearance.

Tommy clutches his rock, though it won't do much compared to a sword and bow but perhaps the sweat from his hands would make its way onto the rock to scare away the opponent.

Wilbur, unlike Tommy, has actually checked his bag prepared by his old servant and finds a decently sized dagger to wield. Not as good as a sword but DEFINITELY better than a sweaty rock. Despite this though, Wilbur seems to be the one most on edge. To no surprise, Wilbur used to be the brother who went the least outdoors. This meant the spontaneous castle lockdown impacted him the least, but the sudden turn of events spawned an intense feeling of shock and confusion at every little thing he failed to be instantly familiar with. This feeling only heightens at an alarming rate as the group arrives at a strange treehouse.

Knock, knock, knock

Phil knocks on the tree three times. A few dead silent seconds pass before odd sounds seem to emit from…inside the tree?

Like clockwork, a long staircase folds out from inside the tree step by step. Techno, Wilbur and Tommy flinch back, a contrast to phils calm and almost excited face.

Footsteps gradually make their way down the steps, and the more Wilbur sees the more alert he becomes.

Sure, he had never been one for going outside much if at all, but with the castle's grand library to keep him busy, he had learned a few things. A few things about those white markings on blue tinted skin. About those lime green eyes and slim, scaly tail. About those large intimidating wings that could circle prey for hours, and those razor sharp teeth that can bite chunks out of a human's shoulder and soar away in an instant to circle back and make sure they go for the neck next time.

“Phil? Oh my gosh, phil?! It's been YEARS, man! What're you doing here again- came to pay me a visit, ay?” Y/n jested as they went in for a friendly hug, however instead of Phil they felt he was replaced with a sharp dagger pointed at their throat.

“Hey, hey, hey! Calm down there, pal-” Y/n put their hands up in defense, Wilbur cautiously holding his weapon to their throat.

“Right, I’m telling you now to stay away from Phil- don’t fucking touch Phil you feral monst-” he brings himself to a full stop as he hears a loud swish of the air. He looks from Y/n's wide eyes, to their wings, folded and pressed into their back, at their face, and at their wings again before hesitantly withdrawing his dagger and shuffling back a bit.

Folded wings mean no harm.

If there was anything he remembered at that very moment from the various books he's read, it was that. Y/n's face was alarmed and a bit shocked, sure, but their face seemed to match up with their wings and their intentions were clear; they meant no harm. He fully settled down, giving them more room to move as they slowly put their hands down and relaxed.

“I'm an old friend. I don't wanna hurt anyone, I promise. You won't see me trying to get damage on anyone here, swear to it.”

Y/n says, still trying to be tentative of their tone. While Y/n seems to be much more forgiving of the sudden out of pocket threats, Phil on the other hand was furious. A hard smack in the back of Wilburs head seemed to get the message through.

“What the hell was that, Wil?!”

Phil scolds Wilbur, with no remorse even after Wilbur hisses and rubs the back of his head in pain. Techno and Tommy burst out laughing, easing up the tension.

“Bruhh, I'm gonna be honest Wilbur, it doesn't seem like you really thought that one through.” Techno chimes in, a taunting grin on his face.

“Man, if I were you Wilbur, I'd be so, SO embarrassed if I were you, but luckily, y’know, I’m me. Me and NOT you, Wilbur.” Tommy boasted with a shiteating smile.

“Anyway, enough with the smalltalk. What're you doing here, Phil? Haven't seen you in what, 40 years? Shouldn't you be ruling that kingdom I've been hearing about? Also, who are these guys? Never seen them before.”

Y/n gestured towards the three younger boys as they spoke, nodding their head towards the trio. Phil gruffly sighs, remembering the months of resistance against his reign. Y/n notices his sudden change of emotions and intently listens.

“The kingdom got tired of us. There was lots of gossip about some man who started this huge cult following- something about him being a god or something pretty much. He got so popular that his cult eventually took over the entire kingdom. That's when he convinced all the citizens that he should be king and that we were ‘imposters sent by Lucifer himself’ or something. He overtook the castle, and that's when we all had to sneak away. These three are my sons, Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy.”

Techno nods at Y/n with a brief hello, Wilbur hums to show his presence, and Tommy gives a boisterous “hello there!”

Y/n stands there with a dumbfounded expression before responding.

“Well first off, hello boys, lovely to meet you. Secondly-” they take a deep breath before continuing, “-WHAT?! They just- ambushed you? Just like that? Man, I mean if the people in that kingdom were THAT easy to persuade into some cult, I don’t think you'd wanna rule there anyway.”

Smalltalk continues between Y/n and Phil, they offer them all a place to stay for as long as they need. Phil expresses his gratitude to Y/n, but there seems to be another conversation going on.

“Well go on, Tommy! You ask!”

“WHAT?! No, no, no, if you're so curious about it then why don't YOU ask?!”

“I've gotta agree with Wilbur on this one, Tommy. I mean, if we're gonna be livin’ here then you've gotta start pullin’ your weight, you relied on the serfs too much anyway.”

The huddle breaks as the trio stands up straight. Wilbur speaks up, seeming to act like his normal self again.

“Now, excuse me, Mx. Y/n? Tommy has a bit of a question he'd like to ask you, if you would be so kind.”

Wilbur declares, nudging Tommy forward to urge him to speak. Tommy jerks the side of his back away from Wilbur in annoyance. If you try hard enough, you can hear him angrily mutter “bunch of fuckin wrong ‘uns…” under his breath. Tommy turns to Y/n and Phil, clearing his throat before speaking.

“How do you know Phil?"

….

“Wow, way to make that question really captivatin’, Tommy. Way to go.”

“SERIOUSLY Techno shut the FUCK UP!”

Y/n lets out a snort before answering the question.

“Ahh, Phil here and I used to be partners waaay back. I was his potion dealer and he was a hunter back when that whole pair was popular- not even sure if you guys were alive for that era. We were real close for a good while before that whole thing died out and we went off to do different things. I've got my own thing and by the looks of it Phil does too. But man, you kept the bow and sword? Those ancient things?”

Y/n nods at the sword that Techno is still holding, though he sheathes it back into its holder now that he feels unthreatened. Y/n reaches up, stretching their back and flaring their wings out to stretch as well before relaxing.

“Oh, here, come inside! I've got a good amount of extra rooms, so make yourselves at home. Something tells me you'll be here for a while.”

1K notes · View notes

character-dsmp-things · 8 months

Note

Could you write a how c!dsmp react to sick reader? I've had a bad cold for a few days now, and I could really use dome cheering up!

If you don't want to or can't, I completely understand.

Please take care of your self, so you don't end up sick like me!

Of course!!

How C!Dsmp members react to you being sick!

(Platonic)

I’m very mad at tumblr for deleting my work so these will be pretty short and to the point

✰ Antfrost

He’d stare at you for a while. Before making sure you got the rest you needed

✰ Awesamdude

He’d throw you into the prison guard room till you got better.

✰BadBoyHalo

Very worried, very sweet making sure you were getting better

✰ Captain Puffy

Mom vibes, “need anything kiddo.”

✰ Dream

Could care less, “you know it’s not fun when you’re sick so get better.”

✰ Eret

Such a sweetheart, would bring you into a guest room to have someone come in and take care of you

✰ Foolish

Likely calls someone else to help you out, being as he’s very ‘busy’

✰ Fundy

He’d try to help and end up sick probably worse off than you.

✰ Georgenotfound

He’s either the reason your sick or tells you just to sleep it off.

✰ Jschlatt

“Just don’t get me sick alright?” Is definitely an ass about it.

✰ Jack Manifold

Has no idea how to help you at all.

He’s giving 👁👄👁

✰ Karl

Makes you oatmeal cookies, to make breakfast easier to pass to you. Expect constant tea refills.

✰ Niki

An Angel, keeps a soft music playing to soothe your headaches and probably makes bread for you.

✰ Ph1lza

Dad vibes, this man has everything prepared.

“Tommy used to be sick all the time I’m used to this.”

✰ Quackity

“Hey now you’re not working the casino in these conditions.”

Takes you up into one of the many spare rooms and has slimecicle bring you food water and checks your temperature till you feel better. He’s busy but will make time for you.

✰ Ranboo

I HC enderman can’t catch human virus’s. He’d be eager to help seeing that he can’t catch it. He’d bring you mushroom soup.

✰ Sapnap

Probably got you sick, “eww you’re gross” makes someone else look after you and acts like it never happened.

✰ Skeppy

Has no idea, would try for a while before inevitably calling Bad to come help.

✰ Slimecicle

Absolutely fascinated, constantly watching over. But he would fetch whatever you asked for. Like a dog he’s just watching.

“Human illness is neat.”

✰Technoblade

“Don’t worry about training your body is doing enough fighting right now.” Words of encouragement to you.

“Beat the cold Y/N”

Constantly feeding you baked potatoes.

✰ Tommyinnit

Either why do got sick or the most unhelpful person.

Oh your sick means I’ll talk to you “keeping you company”

✰ Tubbo

He has a child he gets how hard it is on your body, would keep a cold towel around tea and honey would be his staple.

✰ Wilbur

Tries really hard to help you feel better but really just makes it worse then calls either Phil or Quackity depending on his mood. So

86 notes · View notes

theeyoungalabastor · 1 year

Text

Technoblade And His Apprentice: The Shattered Totem- Kill or Be Killed (Part 2)

Part 1, Part 2 (Fin)

(Art by: Jammie on Twitter)

Where does this take place?: The Arctic Empire, New L'Manberg, The Greater SMP

What event takes place?: Technoblade's and (Y/n)'s execution

Character pairing: Piglin!Hybrid!Technoblade and Bear!Hybrid!Reader

WARNINGS: Blood, character death, descriptive but mild gore, angst, explosions, murder, manipulation, foul language, freezing, Character Death

Status: Platonic, Angst, Fluff, Familial (Technoblade sees reader as a sibling)

Pronouns: They/them

Word count: 2,419 (2k)

Page count: 7.1

"What do ya think about this?" Lifting the object in your hand you raised the other to fix the large crown that you had appropriated from your dear mentor. Presenting it to the man who sat at your side, long Infared strands were unbound from the loose braid he often wore, leaving them to wave elegantly with the invisible digits of lady wind to rake through. Technoblade hummed in response as he turned his head to peer at your perched figure whose small round ears flickered in excitement, a few content huffs leaving your nostrils in small puffs of air.

"Hm, I thought you'd have more blue's in there but it's nice, I guess." He shrugged, fixing the hook of his mantle to hang limp on the soft fur that lined the base. He'd caught you a few more times than not, ruffling the soft mane, a childish grin spread across your lips. Despite everything that was happening and what was to come, you never lost those childlike innocents, but he knew under that façade you effortlessly hid behinds, was a killer just like himself. Honestly, the older male saw himself within you, the way your eyes glinted with malice when the mention of blood was brought into a conversation, or when you'd hum content melody's when reading (You caught him a few times doing the same thing). But what struck him the most was your violent urges.

The fur that limned your spine would bristle like a cat frightened out of its wits, top lip pulls into a nasty snarl to reveal your pronged trenchant canines that looked as if they could tare through the roughest of flesh and the strongest of bone. Your padded fingers would shift and contort as your dull talons soon grew blunted and keen at the tip-

It was honestly terrifying when he witnessed your full rage.

Blood caked your snout, painting your teeth a spoiled scarlet that dripped from your chin like thinned cheese, affixes knuckle deep in the beast's carcass that lay limp at your feet.

The Ravager had gored its pronged horn in the flesh of your side that was revealed from between the plates of your netherite armor which ended up puncturing your ribs quite bad-

"You look weird without your crown on," tilting your head to slide the said object from atop your dome shifted, resting against the cartilage of your rounded ear. Technoblade rolled his vermillion hues before shaking his head. "Well, I wouldn't look weird if you'd stop taking it." He barked.

Your brows furrowed slightly at his words, Technoblade, your dear mentor was gifted with a monotone voice, which also meant that at times you couldn't completely compute what emotions he was expressing, if it was any at all.

"Well, Mr. I'm-gonna-be-bitchy-over-a-crown; I wanted to do something." Standing from your spot you turned to him. Turning away he again shook his head.

"I'm not 'bitching' over the crown, it's just that you've got one hell of a pair of butter finger-" His words died on his tongue as a sudden weight atop his head became known. His body turned jagged as you fixed a few silk petals to sit on his hair better. With a nod of approval, you strode away to gather another bundle of long-stemmed flowers.

The blonde stood atop his windowsill; mangled wings pressed tight to the little of his back that ached slightly as he gripped at the windows wooden edge, his ankle sizzled with a small volt of electricity, but his mind wasn't focased on the device that kept him bound to the home to which he resides, but his attention was dead struck on the group. There, being pulled along the wooden oak path, was them.

"You actually got them..."

Technoblade's piglin ears perked at the sound of his friend's voice, desperation sheeting his crimson eyes as he cried out defenselessly. "Phil- PHIL, WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU!?" But as he turned to face the Elytrian a harsh shove jerked his torso, a sign from the battalion to keep moving, and he did, biting the flesh of his lip till a coppery taste painted his tongue but his words still cut through the air. "You guys leave Phil alone, leave him alone, you already have (Y/N), leave him alone!"

With that being said, Philza's sapphire hues shone with utmost concern when his eyes lay upon your tattered form, your matted hair, split lip that revealed the now dry gums, a single ear presented with a split that would most likely never heal back together, blackened eye, and bruised form, gods you looked sickly, normally bright (S/T) skin now tainted with a dull grey hue.

Your eyes were cast to the wooden walkway that to you- felt as if it were going to go on forever. Your muscles twinged and bones ached after being forced into the harsh weather of the frigid tundra where Technoblade resigned even though now you weren't as cold as before, but you still you felt as if you were to pass out at any moment when waiting to be revealed to your dear mentor as a 'prize for our hard work.'

throughout the whole boat ride to the man in charge, Quackity, would force a finger under the bear hybrids bruised chin, forcing your exhausted half lidded eyes to look at his own earthly hues that glinted with corrupt. Technoblade, every time would let a guttural- almost protective growl would leave his throat when he watched the man handle your beaten form so carelessly as if you meant nothing, but every time he did, Quackity would snap at him with the point of his diamond axe pointed at the man as he spat threats on how he was going to toss the young teen over the edge and watch them sink helplessly into the inky abys of the ocean.

And with your already dampened mental state you kind of hoped that he would. So that you didn't have to sit, back pressed to the boats wooden walls that rocked, sending waves of nausea to wash over your aching body. You looked absolutely pathetic, once a great fighter akin to their mentor now sat, broken and tattered.

A yelp of pain left your lips as the hilt of an axe dug into the fractured bone of your ribs that had been kicked in by yours truly- Fundy shoved your shoulder harshly only to gain a sympathetic glance from the enderman who strode widely beside the small battalion of men and the two captors.

Finally finding the strength to cast your gaze from the floor you glanced up. Just a few feet away stood a towering machine with an iron bared cage beneath, from the top of the crane, hung an anvil from a rope that began to fray from the objects weight. If you weren't as cotton minded with pain and grogginess the thought of how the hell, they got that heavy ass thing to hang from there without accidentally killing one another. But alas, you were tugged to a nearby seat within the two rows of raised seating accommodations, the fox hybrid tightening his hold against the laceration of your forearm, to which you hissed, stumbling into a corner seat, teethed bared at the burning sensation of his fur tugging at the raw meat of your wound.

To your left, Technoblade was led to a nearby poster located directly in front of the elytrians home. The poster- surprisingly- didn't have the two of you back-to-back, weapons held high as if to strike a fatal blow, but just Technoblade.

With furrowed brows and scrunched nose- it struck you.

There WERE no posers around New L'Manberg that contained your photo. You weren't wanted. You weren't needed. But then why where they doing this you may ask?

You were being used for leverage.

They fucking knew that you were one of the few things that the pink haired shapeshifter cared for, including Philza: Who clung to his windowsill, unfastidious wings ruffled and untidied as he watched with helpless eyes as one of his two closest friends were forced carelessly into the iron caged walls, a sheet of thick glass welded into the front for perfect viewing pleasure.

"Technoblade, if you hadn't noticed, this is not a trial, this is not a trial." Quackity mused as he leaned against the iron bars, the ones that Technoblade clung to with white knuckles.

Anxiety devoured hungrily at the pit of his stomach as Quackity continued with his cocky monologue. "You see down there," the duck pointed in a nearby location as the other of who was encaged, looked. " When we press that lever down there, what that anvil is going to do, is it's going to drop on you, and it's going to fucking kill you!"

The larger hybrids heart thumped against his chest at the sight of the heavy object that dangled from just a single rope that looked to fray at the ends. A part of him wondered how the hell these assholes were able to hoist that thing all the way up there.

"But!-" Technoblade looked back at Quackity.

"You're not going alone you see, right there next to you?" He turned, glancing towards the large pole with a decent sizzled platform that elevated the bottom. "Fundy, will you be a king an bring them here for me?" Quackity's voice dripped with honey flavored venom.

Maybe you were wrong, maybe they really were going to kill you.

Fundy, the grandson of Philza Minecraft grinned wickedly as his grip again turned taut, almost bruising, before yanking your stumbling figure along the path, towards the stand where Technoblade was being held.

A harsh shove sent you stumbling, knees hitting the hard wood with a harsh thud. Fundy's hand was then replaced by another, a bit more calloused and firmer than the foxes. "Thank you, Fundy, now, go and enjoy the show huh?"

With a curt nod, the male cast a weary glance towards the encaged piglin who's eyes never left the pathetic looking figure. "Quackity, what- what are you doing with them? They had nothing to do with my actions! Leave them alone!"

"Oh no, no, no, Technoblade, you are not sweet talking your apprentice out of this, they strictly helped you destroy the very foundation we stand on today! Just like we did theirs! BLOWN TO PEICES!" He shouted the last part, yanking the rope that now bound your hands assisted by the copper cuffs that kept you from shifting, a handy cap of sorts.

You were too weak to even struggle.

Quackity dropped from the stands surface, not even bothering to use the stairs that were directly next to him, his wings flapping, an attempt to slow his fall before his netherite boots hit the wooden floor with a clunk. "Neither of you are getting out of this alone, even if it kills me." He hissed, continueing. "Now, you must be wondering what this is yes?" The man crouched next to the lever that would soon bring the blades impending doom, his earthy eyes glinting with malicious intent as he lifted the weapons form their spots, tossing one to his fellow hybrid, Fundy.

In their hands sat two cross bows, both loaded with arrow tipped fireworks. An idea cheekily crafted by Quackity himself after remembering the young presidents unfortunate demise to the same weapon.

It made Tubbo shudder seeing that again.

You just stood; knees buckled towards each other, breathing heavily, so hard that it felt like a wheeze.

It broke Techno's heart seeing you like this, all tattered in worn because you inderstood his intentions unlike most others. All because you wanted to destroy the very thing that drove his brother and your best friend off his rocker.

This corrupt ass government that held one of the youngest members of the SMP and the most feared Anarchist to await their doom.

"I'm sure you recognize these baby's, yeah? I got them from your houses after we caught you!" He chirped happily. "But enough of this, Tubbo, can you please do the honors of explaining to our whole and entire team, of what's going on here?"

With a nod and hum the boy glanced back towards the two exclusionists. Technoblade's lips pulled into a hateful snarl, and (Y/n) who lifted their head to rest against the pole's stature.

His voice wavered. "Technoblade and (Y/n) have robbed this country, of everything that made it special. Of everything that defined what it was. The two stepped in when they shouldn't have-"

The ram hybrid's voice faded into nothing, but murmurs as (Y/n) lifted their head, swollen eye peering at their mentor.

"Techno?"

He turned with the snap of his head, boar ears perking at the sound of their hoarse voice, despite its roughness it was still music to his ears.

"Yes Artemis?"

"Thank you."

This took the man by surprise, no one ever really thanked him, genuinely at least. Other eyes when thanking him of his helping hand had a thin sheen of light in their eyes, just as they were made to be. But theirs shown absolute sincerity, that blanket of light that enveloped their swollen eyes as tears gathered at the ducts. "Thank you for everything. For being a shoulder to lean on, for helping me when I was at my lowest."

The tears began to flow down the bear's face. "Hey, we're gonna get out of this, I promise."

(Y/n) shook their head.

Chaos ensued beyond the heartfelt conversation between the two that seemed oblivious. "No, no I'm not, I'm at least 74 percent sure that I won't make it, but you still have two lives to waste. I'll be nothing but dust."

"AIM, AIM YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

"PULL THE LEVER BIG Q, PULL THE LEVER!"

A shadow cast over the pinettes head as (Y/n) pulled their shoulders to their ears, the tip of the arrow tipped firework approaching rapidly.

"But most of all, thank you for being the dad I never knew I needed."

(Y/n) went out with a bang of color

Technoblade has reached the goal [Postmortal]

________

Unedited

105 notes · View notes