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itsonlydana · 2 years

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Heyo Dana :D you have the same name as one of my irl friends lol, anyways can I get a sbi + winged little sibling reader? Like maybe hybrid school au and their the only winged hybrid so they feel a bit out of place or smth- idk it's just an idea I needed out of my brain. Anyways have a good day and make sure you drink some water and eat something!!

"those who don't mind matter"➷ sleepy bois inc

➛ pairing: c!sbi & winged sibling!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

➛ idea: being the only winged hybrid in your new school took a toll on your self-confidence, but that is nothing that can't be fixed by some good old cuddling on the couch with your family

➛ words: 2,1k

➛ tags/warnings: fluff, tiny bit of hurt/comfort, swearing

➛ an: your friend is like soo cool because of that name! I apologize for how long it took me to write this- tbh i lost motivation to write sbi for a while but now i finally sat down and wrote it in one go. Hope you enjoy it anon!

important links: rules + masterlist

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

you were never insecure about your wings - how could you be when from an early age you were praised by your family for them and any insecurity was smothered in the bud before they could even sprout

even if three of your older brothers were wingless, they tried their best so that you would not feel different. You loved each other for your differences

especially in the early days when your wings were growing and you had to learn how to use them, you did not feel alone, for Phil walked every step with you by his hand and guided you through all the new and unfamiliar things that he had to go through as well

he gave you flying lessons with Techno, Will and Tommy cheering you on from the ground (and rushing to help when it looked like you were going to crash)

all four of them helped you preen your wings, a task each of them performed with care, pride and honor. It was hard for you to groom your wings alone, but as soon as you realized it was time again, all you had to do was sit in front of one of your brothers, and immediately they knew what to do

it was relaxing and strengthened the bond and trust between you all the more, made you feel like family even if you were not blood related

when the invitation to Hybrid School came, Phil was the most excited and raved about the wonderful memories of his school days filled with friendships and adventures. You just had to bring up the subject and a dreamy smile spread across his face and his gaze disappeared into the distance

even if you weren't sure what it would be like to be in a new environment with complete strangers and to be away from your family for several hours a day, Phil was happy enough for both of you - besides, things couldn't be all that bad

The front door clicked into place with a barely audible "clack," and the handle was released as quietly as it could be with that creaky thing. It seemed to work, because the clatter of dishes from the kitchen didn't stop, nor did the clamor of Tommy and Will from the brightly lit living room. You would have to pass both rooms to walk up the stairs to your own bedroom, and so you stopped indecisively in the dark hallway, the straps of your backpack clutched tightly in your hands.

From the smells coming from the kitchen, Phil was probably cooking your favorite meal, just as he had promised you: "After your first day of school, I'll cook you whatever you want and then you can tell us how great it was!" You were looking forward to finally being able to wish for dinner without Tommy complaining, but now you weren't sure if you would be able to eat a single bite; even swallowing was difficult because of the lump in your throat. And then there were the rocks in your stomach and the loss of appetite, despite the prospect of your favorite freshly cooked meal that Phil must have gone to extra trouble for today.

You leaned slightly to the side, brushing off your one shoe with one foot and then the other, pushing the pair you'd already worn through to the pile of other shoes lying around in front of the shoe rack where only Phil's shoes were on the otherwise empty bars. Unfortunately, in doing so, you stepped on one of the floor ledges, which groaned loudly enough at even the slightest touch to wake the whole house. Tense, you held your breath.

"(y/n)?" you heard Phil call over the rumbling that was coming from the living room.

Crap

Before you could answer, the blond was already poking his head into the hallway, as expected a gleam on his face that made your worry of disappointing him run cold down your neck. "I didn't hear the door at all. Take off your jacket and come in, dinner's almost ready. You don't even have to help anymore, just sit at the table. I'm sure you can't wait to tell us about your day, we're all very excited mate!"

During his flow of words you could hardly look Phil in the eye. Instead, you dropped your backpack on the floor. For a moment you considered storming up the stairs and fabaricading your door. If you didn't get out, the others couldn't get in either, and you wouldn't have to answer any questions, and you wouldn't have to get out tomorrow!

The plans you made in your mind were thwarted by two giants rushing out of the living room, because suddenly you found yourself in the arms of Will and Tommy and how could you keep your dams up?

A sob drowned out every sound and silenced the excited questions of your brothers and one sob was followed by another and within seconds you were pressing your tear stained face against Will's familiar yellow sweater. It happened in a matter of seconds, the crash in the kitchen as Phil dropped everything and stormed into the hallway. Even Techno's room door on the second floor opened, even if he couldn't possibly have heard the crying, and flew down the stairs.

"What happened? Did something happen?" asked Techno, visibly ready to take on anyone who was even slightly to blame for your condition.

"(y/n), hey everything is fine," Will tried to reassure you, one arm wrapped around you and the other patting your head lovingly. You didn't want to let go of him at all, your hands were clasped behind his back in an attempt to feel caught again after a day of completely out of control situations.

"School was awful," your tears quickly soaked the sweater, as soon as you started crying you couldn't hold anything back. All day you had been suppressing these feelings, trying not to let on how overwhelmed you felt being alone in this new environment and now that you were back with your family it was impossible to keep these walls up. Their love was overpowering, you didn't want to hide from them.

A meaningful silent conversation took place over you between your brothers, after which you stepped from the dark hallway into the warmth of your living room - you continuing to press against Will, for you dared not look Phil in the eye.

A cool glass of water and a shuffling around on the couch until everyone had found their place, later, you told your family about the day you'd just had. You began by saying how impressed you were with the old walls of the castle, which had served as a school for hybrids of all kinds for centuries now, and how you couldn't take your eyes off the battlements, sloping towers, and magical-looking courtyard. However, the magic of the castle and the feeling of being a part of something big and secret faded as soon as you stepped into the hall with all the other first-years and quickly realized that you were the only one with magnificent feathers. Of course, there were fairy hybrids whose fragile glassy wings glistened in the sunlight, and there had been a group of older dragon hybrids with gigantic leathery wings that could fling you into the air with a powerful push, but no one was like you. You had been startled to realize that....

"I was completely alone," you finished your narration, and again quickly drank a sip of water before tears could once again make their way up. With that burden lifted from your shoulders for the time being, you leaned against Phil to your right, exhausted. He didn't look disappointed at all, you noticed from the angle you were resting on his shoulder, much more sympathetic and as he looked down at you a warm smile played around his lips.

Tommy, sitting next to Phil with the armrest at his back and his legs intertwined like a pretzel, again screwed up his face. "But just because no one else has wings like yours, doesn't mean you're alone! There are a lot of kids and really none of these thousands wanted to be friends with you?"

"Can't get more insensitive than that, can you?", Will clicked his tongue before poking you in your left side. "You can never expect too much from your first day. Most people are overwhelmed with it anyway because it's new and unfamiliar. Don't let it get you down that you haven't found anyone to get into mischief with yet. I'm sure that will come once you all get settled." Even though he was right somewhere, you didn't dare approach anyone either, it was different.

Remembering back to the introductions in your class, how everyone had some friend or sat together in groups. "No one will want to talk to me," you sighed, raising your glass only to mumble in it as you drank, "Not after one of the cool guys said I looked like a pulled chicken."

"HE DID WHAT?" Techno's previously quiet voice filled the room like a thunderclap, sudden and loud enough to make you flinch. The pink-haired man's red eyes were able to pierce a hole through you with the sharpness in them, and you were glad that the anger wasn't really directed at you, otherwise you would have been guaranteed to run for the hills by now. Techno's back was pushed straight through, his thighs strained, and he looked like it was costing him everything not to jump up from his usually comfortable position next to Will. Will, however, didn't really look calm either, his soft gaze had become hard and he gritted his teeth under his tense jaw.

You looked from the twins, who looked more alike than ever at that moment, to Tommy. His jaw lay ready to be picked up from the floor.

One hand rested on your thigh, the other under your chin, turning your head so that you looked at Phil. He spoke your name softly, quietly and gently and full of warmth that put a band-aid on all the wounds of the day. "First, and it's the most important thing you need to know in your life, is that you are perfect just the way you are," he began and you were almost ready to cry again. You made an effort to keep looking him in the eyes, even if Phil seemed more hurt about these events than you were "and secondly, you can't let comments like that get to you, okay? The ones who think they can judge you aren't important, but the ones who don't mind matter."

"Because they're complete bullshit!" shouted Tommy indignantly, and despite the expletive, he was not admonished by Phil. Instead, the elder nodded in agreement, which only spurred the young blond to continue, "They're talking trash, irrelevant lies because they're idiots! Jerks! Ass-"

Before he could utter the last expletive, there came an urging, long-drawn-out "Tommy" after all, to which he only gave you a braces-presenting satisfied grin.

"Phil he's right" Will fell back into the couch cushions behind you and threw his legs up on the small coffee table in front of you "The little rug rat has no idea who he's messed with"

"Messed with?" Alarmed, Phil tensed next to you and his eyebrows shot up at Techno's nod.

"Messed with" Techno confirmed, looking thoughtfully around the room "We could come with you tomorrow and dangle him off one of the towers"

"Or we could dunk him in the fountain for revenge, then he'd have to walk around with wet pants on" Tommy suggested.

"Or," Phil firmly interrupted the creative exchange of ideas on how your brothers could get back at the boy "Or we approach the teacher and settle it without violence"

The three boys sighed, you began to grin. At the saddened faces, you leaned back against Will, patting Techno with one hand and smiling at Tommy. "I'm very grateful to you, but you don't have to be my bodyguards. I can handle it on my own. It was just a stupid comment from someone I don't know and from now on I'll just stay away from him."

Before you knew it Phil's wings spread out behind you all, pressing you all closer until you were lying in a heap on top of each other, arm in arm, some foot half in your stomach, but together. Maybe tomorrow wouldn't be so bad, maybe you'd even meet a friend with whom you could do all the nonsense Phil had experienced in his time at school.

And if things didn't go well, the four self-proclaimed bodyguards sitting outside the school gate in sunglasses would immediately come to the rescue.

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pan-ic-at-the-homehome · 2 years

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Hello! I want to say that your works are amazing! I love the little details you include into the stories and how you make the original request even better then it was! I'm also here to request, if you dont mind! Can I request a male reader with vitiligo in his skin and hair with Philza, Techno & Tommy? It's a disease that creates bloches of your skin to lose pigment and color to appear lighter then your original skin color! Or hair color too in this case. You are welcome to ignore/delete this I'd you happen to be busy, and one last kudos to your work before I end up typing more then needed lol.

Thank you so much for the kind words and thank you even more for the patience. This isn't as long as i'd like it to be but I'm still getting back into the groove of writing, I hope you like it :}

Philza and Techno x Male Reader with Vitiligo (No pronouns mentioned)

Philza

-I feel like anything that makes you 'different' from the average person is the stuff he likes the most -If you're willing to see past the things that he hates about himself and call him pretty he's just at willing, maybe even more willing, to praise your differences -If anyone says otherwise he can and will beat them.

-The fact that you are two guys makes him even more defensive and protective of you

-He loves clothes that show off a bit of skin -Not hornie, he just likes being able to see the gorgeous markings on your skin if you're comfortable wearing that kind of clothes

-There's probably been times where he mistakes parts of the pattern on your skin as scars when taking just a quick glance at you. -He's seen the people in the DreamSMP and how their scars can look, he's scared that one day the same might happen to you.

-He has children, he probably knows how to do hair and uses that to appreciate your hair if it's not very easy to see the blotches of different color -If you want to dye your hair he'll be a little sad -But he'll make sure you know that your natural hair is nice, but if you're happy expressing yourself he's happy

-Makes sure you almost never feel insecure about your vitiligo -He will always be right there to comfort you if comments from other people or the voices in your hair become too much -So many compliments and praises about how handsome you are and how strong you are for being able to power through

-He loves the days where he can just lay in bed with you and just get a good, long, look at you -It doesn't matter how many times he's done it, he will always be infatuated with how gorgeous you are.

-If you're having trouble sleeping he is willing to stay awake until you fall asleep and softly trace the shapes across your body -He already doesn't usually fall asleep before you, no harm in helping your sleep in the process -And when the two of you wake up he kisses any/all spots of different color on your face

-Good vibes all around

Techno

-He could care less that you have vitiligo -It's not life threatening or contagious so he doesn't really mind it -But once you two get closer, ohoho, he just find everything about you amazing -Especially your cool skin and hair -But he will never admit this stuff

-You get to gently caress his skin when looking for and taking care of any injuries, it's only fair he gets to do the same -It's def just an excuse to get a closer look and all the little details on your skin. Vitiligo or not, he loves it.

-He refuses to spar with you in fear of bruising or hurting you -No matter how much you try to convince him that it's fine he will never try to spar you upon his own will -If he ever does hurt you he refuses to forgive himself for it and tries his best to make sure you don't get any permanent marks

-Unless it's his family he will severely harm anyone who dares to speak bad about you -If it is his family he'll give them a very stern talking to with axe in hand -But usually if this person treats you like you're below them, he will make sure they know that the two of you are high above them

-He doesn't like pda, but if he's feeling extra good or extra protective he will lace a hand with yours -He'll give you the suggestion of playing with his rings and only then will he continue with his plot to trace the shapes on your hand

-"Accidentally" stays up too late just to be able to look at you -He is just infatuated with you, every tiny thing makes him fall more and more in love

-It just gets cuter and cuter the closer you two get

#technoblade fanfiction #technoblade x reader #philza x reader #philza fanfiction #dsmp fanfic #dsmp x y/n #dsmp x you #dsmp x reader #headcannons #male reader #gn reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction

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angelsandarsenic · 1 year

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The fundy wilbur and tullulah fic is now in the works along with the yet unnamed Blood God kindergarten fic! here's an excerpt!

Fundy was in a band for a very short time, hoping to be more like his dad and so that maybe he'd love him a little more. It hadn't worked. He hadn't been very good anyway; apparently he didn't inherit his dad's natural talent. Seeing this little girl effortlessly play her flute made bile rise in Fundy's chest like a swarm of seething bees. Oh, Wilbur would be all over this, wouldn't he? He'd be so endeared to this child, they're so alike, but they aren't even related!

"God, will you shut up?!" Fundy snapped. The music cut off abruptly with a screechy note. Tallulah didn't say anything, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see her holding her instrument to her chest defensively. He wasn't a monster, he did feel a little guilt. But the words were already spilling out. "You're not as good as you think you are, and for the rest of us, listening to your screeching all the time is infuriating! Just stop," he hissed, finally turning to her.

She might have been crying as she ran away, but Fundy couldn't find it in him to care. Envy had hardened his heart into bitter cold ice. This is better for her, he thought. Wilbur was never gonna stay. She'd only get her heart broken later anyway.

#fundy #wilbur soot #tallulah #qsmp #dreamsmp #qsmp fanfiction #angel writes #technoblade fanfiction #dsmp fanfiction

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edgarallanpoestan · 11 months

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my first @voicesfortheblade work!! the technoblade qsmp chayanne fic of your dreams (my dreams). my giftee is on twitter BUT im posting this here. youre welcome <3

#bee buzzes #voices for the blade #voicesfortheblade #technoblade fic #technoblade fanfiction

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ohworm-writes · 2 years

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▬ CINNAMON SWEET ▬

Pairing: Modern!Technoblade x Gn!Reader

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Mentions of tears, mentions of anger, minor anxiety, allusions to sex and tenseness (?) overall in the first half of the work

Synopsis: In which Techno forgets about a date he had planned for the two of you. When he comes to pick you up out of the pouring rain, the air between you two is left tense- almost in a suffocating manner. He knows he can’t trust his words to help him out of this hole that he’s dug himself, but perhaps his actions can do something to heal these wounds.

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: This work is dedicated to @dreamwvrld as an entry to her 1 year event! I know I’ve told her this before, but I’m so f*cking honored to be a mutual of hers and everything that she does inspires me so much and just- gods. If you don’t already, please please please go give her works a read and give her a follow, as she absolutely deserves it an so much more.

There’s a certain type of beauty that comes with silence. For many, it’s found in time spent alone, that solitude acting as a breath of fresh air in a way. For others, they may find it in a comforting silence shared between two or more people. The usage of words isn’t exactly necessary in being able to fully enjoy the company of others, and that’s precisely what’s so wonderful about it.

Though, in this case, silence is suffocating.

—-

Technoblade sits with his back set straight against the driver’s seat of his car, sweat acting as an adhesive to keep him stuck in place as his fingers curl around the steering wheel in a grip that leaves his knuckles a lighter shade. Normally, for him, silence while driving is something that he enjoys, being able to block the worries of the day out as he keeps his eyes trained on the road ahead of him.

Today, however, this silence leaves the air thick and tense, almost like smog.

You have your body pressed up against the opposite side of the car, arms curled around your legs in a, what you would call, fetal-like position. It’s slightly uncomfortable and entirely awkward, but it’s the only solace you can find in a situation such as this.

The road ahead stretches on for miles and miles, streets left near-empty with only a handful of people to be seen out this late.

Now that you think of it, you should be one of those people out on the sidewalk right now. You should be curled into Techno’s side as you walk down the avenues, genuine smiles etched on to your faces as you enjoy one another’s company.

But again, given the current situation, that seems like nothing more than a pipe dream.

Techno drums his fingers against the steering wheel as a poor attempt to fill the silence. It’s hypnotic when you take the time to zero-in on it. It’s like- the hooves of horses galloping onto a track, going faster and faster and faster until one crosses the finish line.

That doesn’t happen.

His eyes cast toward you every few seconds. He’s aware he’s doing it. You’re aware he’s doing it. But, somehow, he doesn’t know that you know. Funny, no?

He’s… exhausted. He’s spent the past 14 hours- 6am to 8pm- hunched over a desk, work piling higher and higher above the limits of his patience while higher-ups breathe hot air down his neck, lecturing and nit-picking him at every chance they get.

“Remember T, I need this on my desk by Thursday morning.” “C’mon, is this really all you have to show?” “Chop chop, porkchop! I need these papers sent to our asap!”

He just wants to go home and sleep with you, his partner, the two of you huddled beneath the blankets and feeding off one another’s warmth. If given the opportunity, he’d sleep with you like that for a week and then some.

But the guilt of leaving you out in the rain for hours on end after he’d promised you dinner that night hangs over his head heavily, the whispers in his head laughing at him and scolding him and telling him “they’re going to leave you because of this. And you deserve it.”

He hates it, but he knows that there’s nothing he can do to change what he’s done and he hates it. He just wants to say something, maybe for you to say something if not him to fill this awkward and tense silence that’s been simmering since you stepped into the car a little under 10 minutes ago.

Well, it’s not even the fact that you haven’t looked at him. Saying that implies that it just hasn’t happened yet, that you haven’t turned your head to take a good look at him yet. No- since you slammed the door behind you and huddled into your current position, you’ve refused to cast your eyes anywhere near him. You’ve actively decided to not look at him.

And truthfully, it breaks both of your hearts, not just his.

He can’t see it as your face is directed away from him, but tears prick at your eyes, leaving them a dull reddish-white shade as they accumulate. He had promised to dedicate tonight to you. Promised that nothing else would get in the way and stop this night from happening, and yet that is exactly what had happened.

He’d been so… distant lately. With the way his hours were lined up, he barely even got to see you awake anymore. You’d be lucky if you got to see him for half a second on his way out or when he’d periodically press a kiss to your forehead before knocking out beside you in bed. He barely had any time with you anymore and you’d begun to hate it.

You’ve never had a problem with it before.

Truthfully, you hadn’t. It was something Techno had always loved about you, even before going into his current profession. You’ve always been patient with him, understanding when things came up out of the blue and he’d have to cancel, but he’d always reschedule for sometime soon and make it up to you.

You still had that mentality, of course, but now it was being tested.

He had cleared everything off of his board for tonight, doing everything in his power to set aside the night for you both. And even then, it wasn’t enough.

Technoblade was not a man that broke promises. He dealt with them seriously, and there was not one moment in your relationships where he‘d broken a promise. Well, until now. And that’s what hurt you so much about this whole situation- that, even after having made it a point all throughout your relationship that promises were final, he still fell short.

It broke you.

Techno isn’t a stupid man. Yes, he may make stupid decisions, but that doesn’t inherently make him stupid. He knows he let you down and he knows how angry you are about this whole thing and he knows that you’re making it a point not to show that anger because he knows and you know that doing that would only make everything worse.

It’s this frustratingly repetitive cycle that he finds himself in that he hates so much. He doesn’t know what to do to fix everything because he feels as though he’s walking on thin ice, the wrong step leading him to plunge into the icy currents below.

F*ck, he hates this so much.

The car slows, the dull click click click of the blinker resonating in the silent car as the vehicle turns into a parking lot. It’s only then that you decide to actually look away from the passenger’s side window for the first time since getting in the car.

It’s a plaza. There are several markets and shops dispersed around the area, dull red and blue ‘OPEN’ signs flashing on and off in store windows. You can count on your hands the number of cars in the lot- all space far away from each other to subtly let you know that nobody is shopping at the same stores.

It’s when Techno pulls into a parking space in front of a small bakery that you actually speak up. Your voice is hoarse, tone soft and low as you speak to him for what you realize to be the first time that day.

“Techno? Why are we stopping here? I thought we were going straight home?”

You hate how pathetic you sound, voice small as you speak to the man. He responds quickly after a few beats of silence.

“I need to pick something up real quick. I’ll only be a few. I promise.”

Oh, the irony.

In a fluid motion, Techno takes the keys out of the ignition, the car drumming down into silence as the engine slows to a stop. The heater, of which had been on the entire ride, stops as well, all the heat from the car settling into the stale air you had become familiar with.

He- Techno, is quiet. Eerily so, though not in a way where it seems like he’s about to chew you out, but the exact opposite. No, instead, this silence makes him feel like a child about to be scolded by their parents for doing something they shouldn’t have.

It’s not far off, actually.

His eyes are trained on the view ahead of him- the bakery, watching the workers in the store slump over the counter in exhaustion as they count the minutes tick by and calculate how much longer it’ll be until they’re allowed to leave. It’s only in this silence that you actually cast your gaze to him, taking every inch of him in and storing it in the back of your mind for later.

His hair is a mess, long pink strands tied up into a messy bun that barely even does its job of keeping his hair out of his face. His wide, square glasses are left askew on his face, falling off the edge of his nose but hanging on at just the right angle so that they don’t fall. His eyes- his eyes are so dull and full of sorrow, you almost break into sobs then and there.

There’s so much emotion behind those brilliantly red eyes, the hundreds of different shades of the colour swirling into a mix that leaves you gasping for air.

Even so, you still want to yell and kick and scream and pull your hair out from its roots and ask him “why?” Why would he make a promise such as this- a promise in general if he couldn’t even keep his word to it?

You hate him and you love him all the same for it, but f*ck is this whole thing messing with your head.

Your focus then shifts from his face, down the length of his arms, to his hands. The drumming of his fingers against the steering wheel had stopped a short while ago, instead his hands turn to hold the object in a vice grip. One of which looks as though if he were to apply any more pressure to it, the steel would bend and break underneath him.

Your fingers twitch. You want to offer him comfort; you want to let him know you aren’t entirely mad at him- but, still; you are mad at him in a way, so wouldn’t that action contradict itself?

Your eyes travel back up to his face, but the difference this time, as opposed to the last, is that he meets your gaze. His entire body freezes and stiffens the second he meets your line of sight, breath catching in the back of his throat as his mind scrabble to figure out what he needs to do next as to not f*ck anything up further.

So, his solution in this scenario is to leave. His hands abruptly part in front of the wheel, almost in a way that resembles someone being burnt by a hot object. His sweaty palms leave a certain shine on the wheel, and it’s then that you can obviously see the dents his grip has left.

You almost don’t catch it, but he mumbles something under his breath, something along the lines of “you can keep the keys in the ignition if you want.”

Something like that.

He’s quick to open the door after those words leave his mouth, stepping out head-first with the crisp air biting his exposed face. He’s not entirely out yet, though, as only his first left and upper body have exited the car.

Now you have a choice to make, and you hope to all the gods that may listen that you’re making the right one.

“Wait, give me a second and I’ll be right behind you. Grab the keys.”

You aren’t surprised that he listens to your words, healing his movements as you open your own car door and exit the vehicle, arms continuing to curl around yourself, though this time the reason for doing so is because of the cold.

Techno notes that, already shedding the muddled brown cardigan he had been wearing moments before as he snatches the keys from the ignition. The car door shuts behind him with a slam, keys in one hand and sweater in the other.

He meets up with you around the hood of the car, passing you the sweater with pleading eyes, hoping that you’ll take it without argument. You do, and both you and him are grateful for that for your own reasons that don’t need entertaining at this time.

As the two of you cross the short distance from Techno’s car to the store’s front, his lips part in awe. He… he never expected you to come along with him. He thought you would have stayed in the car if anything, maybe turning on the heater and radio in wait for him, or possibly screaming into the void about how utterly stupid he is.

Or, hell- maybe you’d drive off and leave him where he stood.

But no, instead, you’re walking inside the bakery with him, your strides matching his as the two of you go up and down each aisle, inspecting the different loaves of bread and treats that the establishment offers.

Techno has a quaint brown basket in his hold at this point in time, one which he grabbed by the door the second he walked in. That minor aspect was something he rather enjoyed about the store, the small, stupid detail bringing a smile to his face- yours too, it seemed.

Even with this soft, barely noticeable grin on his face, you notice the way his hands are curled tightly around the handle once more. It’s an anxiety thing, that much you can tell. But you notice, of course you do, so as an attempt to ease the anxieties of the man you love, you softly curl your palm around the back of his.

It’s an attempt not only to soothe him, but to also try and ease this tension that’s been forming between the two of you.

Are you stupid for trying to comfort him after he ditched you and made you look like an idiot? Absolutely. But would you rather have him anxious and worried that he’s in worse than he thinks he is as opposed to him calm and ready to talk through it with a level head? Absolutely not.

He noticeably relaxes from your little gesture, his shoulders slumping a little as he casts his gaze at you. His eyes hold a silent “thank you” within them, and all you can do to respond is nod. He gets the message, bringing your hand atop of his up to his lips as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of it.

He’s got you wrapped around his finger even if he doesn’t know it.

A soft, breathy laugh passes through your lips at the affection, your eyes breaking away from him and instead toward the baked goods around you as you both walk up and down the mini-aisles within the confines of the store. Soft jazz plays over the speakers, perhaps Billie Holiday , and it only romanticizes the scene further.

Techno’s not necessarily looking for anything in particular while he’s here. He planned to just come in and buy you something sweet and hopefully that would somehow resolve his issues. But, watching your eyes linger on every item within the store, small oohs and aahs sounding from you every few seconds, he realizes that was a sh*tty plan to begin with.

As the two of you near the front of the store, a glass barrier displaying all the freshly cooked sweets under the countertops, you stop in your tracks and watch as one worker places a freshly baked batch of cinnamon rolls onto a rack.

Your sudden halt brings Techno to a stop beside you, his eyes moving their way up to your face, and then soon after following your gaze to the treat that was making the bakery smell sweeter than it already had.

It’s in that moment that Techno knows exactly what he’s getting.

Techno isn’t standing entirely beside you, per se, but rather a little bit behind you as your body has turned toward the cinnamon rolls ahead. So, with his hand at the dip of your back, he pressed you to move closer to the cash register, his head finding a home next to yours as he meets the eyes of the cash register.

The transaction moves quickly, the worker quickly putting four or so cinnamon rolls into a small box for the two of you to take. Though you are in no way focused on that part of anything. No, rather your attention lingers on the way his warm breaths fans down the side of your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You focus on the way his body presses into your back, the heat of him seeping through your clothes in a way that makes you shiver.

It’s only when he squeezes his hand around your own, tugging you softly towards the exit that you’re snapped out of this trance he’s put you in.

D*mn him.

But you get the notion quickly, following behind him as the smell of the cinnamon rolls follows you out the door and through the parking lot. There’s a silence between you two, but this time it’s in no way as awkward as it had been merely 15 minutes ago.

As you’re getting into the car, shutting the door softly behind you, you notice that Techno doesn’t open his trunk or stick the treats in the back seat of his car. Instead, he steps into the car head-first with the treats following after, placing the thin cardboard box onto this lap as he settles in, shutting the door behind him.

You watch as he opens up the box carefully, taking one roll out and hiding it to you. There are no napkins available, so the sticky coating of the treat travels from his hand to yours as you accept it, taking a bite the second the treat is in your grasp.

He follows your actions soon after, taking one for himself and taking a bite out of it. It’s the first thing he’s had to eat all day, so he tries his best not to eat like a starved man (even if that’s exactly what he does the second the flavours hit his tongue).

The two of you eat in a comfortable silence, the cinnamony-sweet taste from the rolls settling and melting on to your tongues. It’s… gods, there aren’t words in the English language that can fully depict how good the treat tastes on his tongue right now.

Though, however good it may be, there’ll always be one taste that stands above the rest as his favorite,

The muddled silence shared between the two of you speaks a thousand words. The soft chewing, the sounds of dough tearing away from each other, the rustling of clothes against the seat- all of it.

Techno’s no good with his words, both of you know that. It’s not a bad thing, of course, as he expressed his feelings and emotions in other ways, but the fact is still important to note upon. Nonetheless, him going out of his way to buy you a treat as a sh*tty way to make up for forgetting about tonight is… well, a horrible way to make up for the situation. Though with Technoblade? You understand that these actions of his express the way he feels better than words ever could.

Between bites, though, he does make the effort to apologize to you verbally. He can’t meet your eyes while doing so, and while others might take that action as a way to say that he doesn’t actually mean his words, you as his partner know that it’s the only way he can put together his thoughts in a coherent manner as to stop them from crumbling beneath him.

Even if he never meets your gaze during his little speech, you keep your eyes entirely focused on him, your sticky fingers as a result of the icing dripping down them long forgotten and stored in the back of your mind for later reference.

It’s only when his mouth closes for good that he actually turns his head, deep red eyes meeting yours. Though you could never understand it, there’s this way his breath audibly catches when he meets your eyes. They’re so full of… emotion, in a way that he can only describe as a love-struck gaze that makes his heart skip a few beats, a dopey smile forming on his lips.

Every part about you, every little thing that makes up who you are - he can see all the love and understanding and compassion that follows them when you look at him. The way your smile reaches your eyes, the way the colors in your eyes mix in a way he’s never seen before, pupils blown wide and visible to him. Just-every single thing about you leaves him at a loss for words.

He loves it.

You take Techno’s face in your hands, sticking fingers pressing up against his cheeks as you take hold of him and guide his lips to yours. The kiss is so sweet, so soft and full of love that he can’t help but slump against your hold, fingers finding themselves at your waist as he ever so slowly drags you impossibly closer to him.

F*ck, the two of you would stay like this forever if you could, your lips pressed against each other in kisses that leave you both light-headed and dizzy.

But alas, air is something that the body can only go so long without. So, as your lips part from Techno’s, a small string of saliva connecting the two of you, he presses his forehead into yours with a guttural humm following after it.

He loves you; he loves you; he loves you; he loves you. Gods above, the things he would do for you- to you, if you so asked. He’s wrapped around your finger and gods, he’d be a fool to ever try to leave that.

So, as your softly whisper against his skin, telling him that you’re grateful he made an effort to make it up to you, but you still are quite a bit upset about the whole thing- you tell him that you’re willing to put the situation behind the both of you so long as he made it up the right way in the future.

He knows that he has work to put in to better himself and your relationship, but as he presses tender and fervent kisses against your lips and skin, he takes a deep breath to give you a proclamation that leaves a lovesick grin plastered onto your face with your mind in a haze that make you euphoric:

“I know that I have work to do, I know that I need to get better at- well, a lot of things. But thank you, thank you, thank you for forgiving me this once. I promise to you, darling, that I’ll take a thousand years and then some to make it up to you if that’s what it takes. My heart is yours, and in your care it shall stay.”

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areus-in-a-little-cave · 2 years

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Chapter 18 is here!! Fields of Flowers is done more than a year after starting!! :D I’m super proud of this man MANNNNN AHH :] I am very happy rn

reblogs are super appreciated!!

---

Fields of Flowers is a Michael_Beloved-centric canon-divergent fic set ten years after the Dream SMP. This fic is 18 chapters and 90k words. It largely focuses on Michael’s relationships with Technoblade and Beeduo.

Summary:

Michael had lived in the north with his uncle as long as he could remember, and he liked it that way. Life was simple there and the only adventures he had were in stories. But after learning that his parents are still alive, Michael sets out to find his long lost family. To do that he has to run away from Technoblade, one of only two people he's ever known, and venture into dangerous lands.

A canon-divergent Michael-centric uncle Technoblade AU set ten years after the Dream SMP

Taglist:

@cupsmp @marvelously-queer

#areus fic update #fieldso of flowers #dream smp fanfiction #dsmp fanfic #michael_beloved #michael underscore beloved #michael_beloved fanfiction #technoblade #technoblade fanfiction

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serashalala · 1 year

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Kaleidoscope Lead

He speaks soft words in hushed tones that would only be allowed for Techno to hear: “I’m sorry,” Tommy says, “I told you, though, didn’t I?”

“I can’t afford to be kind.” Tommy gently brushes a hand to move it away from Technoblade’s head. “It kills, you know?”

~+~

Technoblade, a child of the House of Virtue, was kidnapped by the Duke of the House of Prosecution. No one but Tommy knows this, but in a parallel future this will be the catalyst of his House's downfall. Through any means necessary, he tries to change things.

Includes:

darksbi, primarily Dark!Tommy though, violence, BAMF!Tommy, poison but I barely know anything other than the bare minimum, magic, 29k words in a oneshot, misunderstandings that go well, misunderstandings that don’t go well

Read on AO3

#serashalala writes #bedrockbros fanfiction #bedrock bros #technoblade #technoblade fanfiction #tommyinnit #tommyinnit fanfiction #serashalala art #dsbi #dark sbi

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epicaxolotls · 11 months

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wee first prompt for the sbi summer bingo and I get to finish an old marvel pseudo-crossover I forgot about

also this is the first time im posting my writing on tumblr so here we go-

Words: 1,931 (Kinda short but eh.)

Prompt: Superhero AU

Little bit of an unorthodox superhero au, but I'd say it's still a superhero au at its core

Wilbur blinked. What-?

No, that didn’t make sense. He was fucking- he was fucking hallucinating again, wasn’t he? Yeah, that had to be it. Why else would he have been watching his hand disintegrate in front of him?

Wilbur looked up at Phil, hoping that he hadn’t seen what Wilbur had, but–

Phil wasn’t there. Why wasn’t Phil there? He was literally just talking to Phil a second ago, and he was pretty damn sure his father didn’t have super speed–

“What the fuck?” Wilbur heard his little brother’s voice from the kitchen, and he jumped up.

“Tommy? What’s-” Wilbur stopped himself as he looked around. It was like a fucking tornado swept through the house, rearranging everything, yet nothing was in disarray.

“Wil, where’s Techno?” Tommy asked from the doorway of the kitchen.

“No clue.” Wilbur said, looking at the table for his phone, but couldn’t find it. He must’ve put it somewhere else-? Weird. He was pretty sure he just set it down.

“I’m gonna go check the garage.” Tommy muttered, walking out. Wilbur nodded, and stood up himself to check the bedrooms.

He opened the door to Techno’s room without knocking, something his twin brother had been adamant on him not doing. Wilbur didn’t get the usual shout of annoyance, though. The room was silent.

When did Techno redecorate?

Whatever. Wilbur took a glance at the room, then left, leaving the door open just to be annoying. Then, he went to their father’s room.

Phil’s room was a lot messier than usual. Not very like their father to leave his room like this.

Wilbur had to admit, he’s finding this whole… whatever pretty fucking weird. He didn’t–

Was that picture there before-?

No, it wasn’t. It rested on the wall directly above the headboard of Phil’s bed, and it was of the four of them. Probably from a few years ago, looking at how old Tommy looked. It looked like they were just at some fair that was coming through town, and Phil wanted a picture of the four of them at it. It was pretty obvious Techno didn’t want to be there, with the small glare he was giving Phil, and Wilbur remembered how strained his smile was as he waited for the picture to be taken, wanting to get back to whatever scam of a carnival game he’d been playing. And Tommy looked about two seconds away from opening the tub of cotton candy Wilbur had bought for him.

Why would Phil have such a shitty picture printed, framed, and hung in the middle of the wall-? When did he even get the time to? Wilbur was just in here an hour ago grabbing Phil’s phone charger for him, and now the entire room looked different. What the fuck?

Wilbur was about to turn around and go find Tommy, when his little brother barreled through the door himself, taking a few gasps of air before looking up at Wilbur, “You gotta see this.”

*~*

What the fuck.

What the actual fuck. Why was there a fucking wing mech in their fucking garage.

“Looks like something a supervillain would wear.” Tommy said with a laugh, “Dad’s probably doing some cosplay or something, but holy shit, where was he hiding this?”

Wilbur shrugged, walking up to it. Fucking hell, that wasn’t– that was actual metal. How- how did their dad get enough metal to put together two fucking huge metal wings-? When did he even find the time to make these? Wilbur didn’t think he was losing sleep or anything. Besides, he was a light sleeper. He would’ve heard Phil putting together two giant wings. Right? Right. Yeah. There was absolutely no way these were made here.

“We’ll have to ask about it later, ‘cause I’ve got no clue when Dad got the time to make these.” Wilbur muttered. Part of him wanted to touch the wings. Because either their dad was secretly an amazing painter who could make foam look like metal and they were just jumping to conclusions, or something fucking weird was happening.

“Have you tried calling either of them?” Tommy asked, already heading back inside.

Wilbur paused for another moment, then followed, “No. Can’t find my phone.”

“Checked your room yet?” Tommy asked, “Bet you just left it there for dinner.”

Wilbur shrugged, “Could’ve sworn I put it on the table, but might as well check.”

Wilbur headed into his room, and on his dresser, his phone sat, untouched. Wilbur went to pick it up, but-

Why was his phone dusty-? He couldn’t have set his phone down more than an hour ago, why would…

Techno was probably doing something stupid. Yeah.

Wilbur brushed the dust off the phone case, and unlocked his phone. It immediately began sending out notifications, his phone dinging every few seconds. He swiped down the access screen to turn his notifications to silent, but–

2023. The year on his phone read, 2023.

No, that wasn’t right. It was 2018. Not– no. No, yeah, his phone was fucked up. Uh, yeah, he’s just gonna restart it. He’s just gonna let it restart, yeah, it’s updating, definitely just a weird glitch because Wilbur postponed an update or something. That’s all it was. Yeah, yup.

Wilbur unlocked his phone again. The year didn’t change.

You know, it was an old phone. That’s probably just the year it’s meant to shut down. Like that- that year 2000 thing where all computers were supposed to shut off once the year hit 2000. Yeah, his old phone was just being stupid, that was all.

Wilbur left his room. He left the phone where it had been.

“You find it?” Tommy asked from the couch, where he was searching for the remote.

Wilbur shook his head, “Nah, I probably left it at school or something.”

That might’ve been the worst lie Wilbur’s ever told. School ended months ago.

Tommy hummed, “Alright. I’ll find mine later. I wanna see if the game today’s still on– found the remote.” Tommy grinned, turning on the TV, where the date was displayed clearly.

Wilbur didn’t read anything else. All he saw was the year.

2023.

What the actual fuck.

Tommy seemed to notice it too, because he glanced over at Wilbur, before heading onto YouTube.

“A glitch.” Wilbur tried to brush off, sitting down on the couch next to Tommy, “Probably just like– when it goes outta date or something.”

Tommy nodded, and scrolled through the rows on YouTube, but paused when the News section came on screen.

Tommy chuckled, “That must be the guy Phil’s cosplaying as.” he said, pointing at one of the thumbnails of a livestream labeled ‘Breaking News’.

Wilbur nodded, staring at the… vigilante. Yeah, the title's right there, ‘Vigilante Duo Blood God And Angel Of Death Join The Fight’. Pretty dumbass names, if you asked Wilbur. Tommy would call them tryhard. The man’s green robe was flowing in the wind, showing off the two metal wings on his back.

“Why’d Phil cosplay that guy?” Wilbur asked, raising his eyebrow.

Tommy shrugged, instead selecting the video, and the TV loaded up the livestream.

“-And as billions of people are now reappearing, many are in a state of confusion as sources have informed us that for them, no time has passed.” The video switched to a bunch of people fucking appearing in the streets out of thin air, reappearing in an ashy substance before it the substance shaped itself into a figure and reappeared, “Enforcements are trying to calm the panicked crowd, but the confusion has yet to be resolved for many. So, for anyone who has suffered the Blip, welcome to 2023. Five years have passed.”

The news lady was about to continue, but the TV turned off. Wilbur looked back over at Tommy, whose hand was on the remote.

“No. Fucking way.” Tommy muttered, still staring at the blank screen.

Wilbur thought about it all. He wanted to say this was just some weird clickbait news, but…

His phone. The dust. The wings they had never known existed. The picture that somehow ended up in Phil’s room. Techno’s abrupt redesign.

Five years. They’ve been gone for– they’ve been gone for five years.

Where the hell were Phil and Techno?

*~*

“Nnope-” Techno had skipped the polite declining, going straight to refusing any offers from celebrating heroes. Who the fuck cared. They needed to get home. Find one of those goddamn wizards that brought them here in the first place, and get home.

Where Wilbur and Tommy should be.

Where Wilbur and Tommy will be.

Techno pulled a man to the side, making it very clear very quickly that he couldn’t give a damn about what the wizard had been wanting to do.

The wizard had opened their portal home, and Techno dragged his father through.

The house was silent.

No.

They had to– no, it couldn’t be this quiet. Wilbur and Tommy should–

“WHAT THE FUCK!”

Techno turned around from where he and Phil were standing in the hallway, already recognizing the voice, though his mind hadn’t quite processed it before he met eyes with his little brother.

Techno froze.

“Theseus.” Techno couldn’t help but take a step forward. It was him. Tommy was here. They did it. They fucking did it. His little brother was right here– right here. For the first time in five years.

Tommy took a step back.

“Theseus, hey, it’s just me.” Techno spoke, trying to keep his voice calm, though failing. Techno had always been the one to cry first. He couldn’t stop his eyes from blurring, so he reached up to unbuckle his mask, but paused as his little brother continued to back up, “Tommy, don’t–”

Tommy had already bolted into the kitchen.

Techno paused, and glanced over at Phil, who had watched the whole thing, his eyes furrowed as he already took off his hat and veil, “Don’t think he recognizes us.” Phil said with a sad chuckle, pulling down his face mask.

Techno nodded. It’s been five years. Five years since Techno’s seen Tommy.

Tommy probably didn’t know that, did he?

Tommy didn’t recognize him.

Phil was unstrapping his wings. Techno should probably help his father. Old man and all. But Techno needed to– he needed to see them. To stop the thousands of thoughts that were racing through his head at the moment. To calm himself, sure. Yeah. Techno tried to take off his mask again, as he followed Tommy into the kitchen.

Tommy was yelling at Wilbur, something about supervillains in their house– ohh. Okay, makes sense–

Wilbur’s head jolted over to Techno.

“Shit–” Wilbur pushed Tommy behind him.

Techno paused, still trying to get the buckle of his mask off. Why did he make this thing a belt buckle-? Sure, some bullshit about protecting his identity more, but literally anything else would be easier to take off.

“Hey, chill.” Techno spoke, “Wil, hey, don’t freak out– shit, no, wa– put the knife down. Wilbur, put the knife down. Thank you. Stop freakin’ out. You don’t– it’s me.”

Wilbur was beginning to back away as Techno finally got his mask off.

All three of them paused.

“Wilbur.” Techno said, setting down his mask on the counter at rubbing a stray tear out of his eye.

“Techno?” Tommy asked, taking a step away from Wilbur.

Techno’s smile grew a bit wider, “Theseus.” he murmured, moving forward, “Welcome home.”

And Techno finally got to hug his brothers.

Techno finally got to hug his brothers, for the first time in five years.

#SBIBingo2023 #my writing #fanfic #idk #sbi #sbi fanfic #technoblade fanfiction #wilbur soot fanfiction #they're the povs so i guess ill just tag them

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mumza-superiority · 1 year

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I DIDN'T FORGET MOTHERFUCKERS

new chapter of death's obsidian throne is out!

Summary:

It was dark. Phil was laying on the pitch-black floor, staring up at the Void. He didn’t know where he was, all he knew was the encapsulating Void that loomed all around him. He saw Sir Technoblade walk up to him, his eyes shadowed from view. His hair, his sash, everything about him seemed desaturated, like he had the life sucked out of him.

#emeraldduo #dsmp fanfic #emduo fanfic #mcyt fanfic #death's obsidian throne #philza #technoblade #philza fanfiction #technoblade fanfiction

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ctommyisnt · 9 months

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In honor of ao3 being down here’s chapter one of my wip blackbird.

Wilbur & techno & Tommy as kids, dark Phil Watson, abuse, derealization, guns, kidnapping, divorce, manipulation.

A dark expose based on the true crime storytelling style detailing the events that occurred to Technoblade, Wilbur Soot, and Tommy Innit at the ages of 14 and 9. Excerpts from Tommy Innit’s autobiography published at the age of 28 help lead the story and give context.

Dedicated to my brothers, Wilbur and Techno Rosales, bound not by blood, but who I have gone through thick and thin with.

Foreword

My name is Thomas Carson Innit, though most people call me Tommy. You may already know me, not to brag, though I am the biggest man ever. Not literally, of course. If you’re going by height, that honor goes to Robert Wadlow. Though I’m a close second in his regard.

(Wilbur, who read through my second draft to correct inaccuracies and help edit, wanted to make sure I wrote that my height is actually 6’1”. He’s lying, by the way, I’m 6’3”)

Anyways, I’m known in a lot of different ways. Maybe you know me from West Willow High School, where I graduated with my cousin Tubbo (well, his name is Tobias, but nobody calls him that). You may know me from LSU where I studied physics and engineering, or maybe from Stanford when I got my PHD in aerospace engineering.

Maybe you know me from work, designing rockets with my cousin Tubbo and roommate Ranboo. I’ve been complaining about writing this book for the last eighteen months to many of my colleagues. ‘It’s not rocket science’ they all say. They’re right. It’s not rocket science. I can do rocket science. I only studied English for half a year before I switched majors, this is hell for me. My brothers have always been better with words.

But if you don’t know me from any of those, and you're reading this book, then you’ll know me from the Watson family. Which is where most of you readers will have come from. I could explain what that is now, but if I do that this entire book will be spoiled and I’ll have no reason to publish anything past this foreword. Honestly, I could just publish this forward as a memoir, let some publishers eat it up and throw it on the headlines for a week before it gets lost in the sea of articles. But I’ve always been one for dramatics, and here I am, over eighteen years later, writing the real story of the Watson family.

Oh yes, I’ve seen the articles. It was a headline that was spread worldwide, but I was twelve at the time. My brothers were sixteen. The only statement that was released was the police report- and even then we gave the bare minimum. It was enough to send Watson to the asylum for life at least.

In the eighteen years since my brothers and I escaped, we’ve changed a lot. I’ll get into the gritty details later on, but I will say that we were barely people when we got out. I’m proud to say all three of us have found our place since, and my brothers have encouraged my writing for the last two years. I can say to you guys as I finish this foreword that I’m very proud of this work. But not nearly as proud as I am realizing that I’ve healed. I’ve gotten past all the horrors and hardship I’ve been through. I’ve gotten past the lost memories and the grief that’s plagued my life so long. Hell, I design rocket ships, that’s fucking badass.

(My editor told me I shouldn’t swear. It’s unprofessional, she said. My aunt agreed. However, Tubbo and Wilbur said I should because it’s funny and so I am. Fuck the haters, I’m going to swear in my autobiography)

There’s not much else to say here, except this book has been two long years of stories and resurfacing memories and counseling visits. I’m lucky I make good money or else this book would not be worth the amount I’ve spent on therapy to write this. So please, read this with integrity. Read this with kindness. Read this with an understanding that the world is not a perfect place, but it’s not a bad place. One thing I’ve learned over the years is that in this world, the good will never outweigh the bad. Let’s keep it that way.

—

“-okay, love you mom, bye,” he murmured into the phone speaker. Wilbur let Kristin hang up first and turned to his brother sitting next to him on the bed.

“Apparently she’s talking to a lawyer. She’s going to separate with dad” Wilbur explained to Techno, “she’ll pick us up on Friday after school to stay with grandma and grandpa, but unless we want we can stay here until the school week is over.”

His twin looked down, fiddling his hands and shifting on the bed sheets as he did when he was nervous. Wilbur put a hand on his shoulder. “you okay?” He asked.

Techno nodded, then pursed his lips and shook his head, still not meeting Wilbur’s eyes. Wilbur didn’t take offense to that, techno didn’t like making eye contact with anyone.

“I just- I don’t want to leave dad. We were going to plant pumpkins. Only two more months until summer,” he mumbled. Wilbur nodded.

“I know, but it’s not like you’ll never see him again, he just needs some time on his own while we live with mom, unless you wanted to live with dad instead?” Wilbur was hesitant to say that last part. There was no way he wasn’t going to live with mom, but he didn’t know what he’d do if techno stayed with dad. He didn’t want to live out the movie parent trap. Sure, he’d like to have his own bedroom. The room they were in right now was somewhat cramped with all their stuff. But he’d rather a cramped bedroom than to only see his twin at school or every other weekend.

Techno put his hand in Wilbur’s, making him smile, “no, I’d rather live with mom. You know this. I just- this is our bedroom. This is our house. I don’t want to leave everything.”

Wilbur looked up, and yeah. They’d have to move. He’d miss the pale blue drywall and the wispy white curtains. Techno’s computer desk and wall of swords. Wilbur’s guitar in the corner. The shelves of books and trophies and knickknacks they’d had since they were seven.

“Me too,” he whispered, “but we’ll have each other and we’ll probably have our stuff- mom will make sure of that.”

Techno leaned against Wilbur. He was taller and a bit bigger than Wilbur, which he tried not to be jealous of. They were twins for god's sake. He was thankful, though, because Techno was his protector. He’d beat up school bullies for him and stand up to biased teachers. In return, Wilbur would make sure techno didn’t close himself off. Wilbur had always been the more emotional sibling, but he’d comfort a crying techno after a lost soccer match or fencing tournament many times.

A knock on their bedroom door interrupted the moment. Neither said anything, but it opened anyways and techno sat up straight.

“Hey kids,” their father peaked around the doorway, “why don’t you pack up your things. I think we should go to the cabin for the weekend.” He said.

“The cabin? Now?” Techno asked. Phil’s eyes narrowed.

“You know this week has been rough. Hurry up, I already have the car packed,” he huffed, shutting the door behind them, letting the blue and red plastic bells hung on the doorframe they’d made in elementary school ring behind him.

Wilbur stood up slowly, slipping off of the just-too-tall bed to his dresser. He looked through the mirror to techno, still on the bed.

“Wilbur?” Techno said, still unsure. Wilbur bit his lip.

“I dunno, but maybe it’s a good idea. One last summer with dad before we move in with mom- or maybe he just wants a better place to talk about what’s happening? Maybe he just wants to be a bit farther away from what’s happening, y’know parent trap took place in a cabin, maybe it’s fate?” Wilbur rambled. Techno was still fiddling with his hands, picking at the skin at the tips of his fingers even though it hurt. But he stood up and went to the dresser too.

He opened a drawer and brought out a box. A box of keepsakes that they never really took out anymore since they’d gotten older. But he opened it and took out two necklaces.

“Aww, mom’s necklaces,” Wilbur cooed, taking his own. They’d been given necklaces at birth to tell them apart by Kristin’s sister, but their mom was paranoid they’d choke and never let them wear them. But she kept them all the same, and let Wilbur and techno keep them when they were old enough to not chew on the pendant.

A sun for Wilbur and a moon for techno, with their names engraved in them. A beautiful, well made gift that Wilbur appreciated. Techno didn’t care for the meaning as much but he liked jewelry. He used to wear it at middle school before the bullying got too much.

Wilbur unclipped techno’s and put it around his neck. His fingers were never steady enough to do it himself, so Wilbur always put them on for him. Even though he had to reach a tiny bit since Techno was taller.

“It’s just a weekend, techno, we’ve had to get through eighth grade- this is nothing. Besides, we’ll be able to visit the woods again- we love the woods!” He said, trying to ease techno’s raging anxiety.

“Yeah. You're right.” Techno nodded, smiling softly. Wilbur smiled, biting the side of his lips. Yeah, it’ll be just like old times. Techno and dad romping around hunting and foraging while Wilbur read on a tree or played guitar by the lake. It’ll be fine.

—

It has been around two years since they last visited the cabin, it technically wasn’t theirs - it was a timeshare according to Phil. He didn’t really know what that meant, just that they would go at certain times of the year. But Wilbur remembered it didn’t take quite this long to get there. They left at four, and it was already eight; It was only supposed to take three hours.

Wilbur hadn’t said anything in an hour. Phil wasn’t responding to much and Techno had been drifting asleep for the last thirty minutes. His phone had died in hour two and he didn’t have a charging cord that would plug into a car port.

At 8:27 Phil turned into a gas station, much to Wilbur’s relief. He needed to pee really badly. He grabbed Techno’s sleeve and pulled him to the door, waking him up enough to follow them. Wilbur’s nose scrunched as they stepped out of the van, he didn’t really like the smell of gas. It was much too strong and the yellow lights were blaring down on them. Techno grabbed onto Wilbur’s sleeve.

Phil didn’t talk to them, just filled the car with gas in silence. His eyes followed Wilbur and Techno as they entered the gas station and when he turned around as the door swung open, he was still watching them.

Wilbur remembered the time Phil once forgot them at the library. He was never this attentive.

He’s probably stressed because mom left.

Before they left the gas station, Wilbur looked at the aisle with supplies- he picked out a car port and looked to Techno, who was holding his hand. It was a deep royal purple- which was Kristin’s favorite color. It made him smile.

A bell rang, and Wilbur looked up to see Phil coming through the door. His dad beelined to supplies, picking out a few things. Some he recognized, some he didn’t. Mostly just camping supplies and other tools.

Wilbur bit his lip.

Nevertheless, he made his way to the register, nodding when Techno grabbed a pack of gummy worms. He was reaching into his pocket to grab his wallet but a hand on his shoulder made him jolt.

Wilbur held up the car port charger. Phil shook his head and took it from his hand, putting it on the nearest shelf. He let out a shaky breath, looking at Techno who was just as confused as he was. Phil led them the rest of the way to pay for his stuff and Techno’s gummy worms (thankfully) and led them by the shoulders out of the gas station.

Wilbur and Techno climbed back into the silver van, they expected Phil to join them, but instead he kept the door on Techno’s side open.

“So I was thinking,” he started, saying the first words to them since they’d gotten to this god awful gas station, “since we’re going on a family trip, we should try to be more present. We could make this an electronic free trip,” Phil proposed. Techno shook his head but Phil just held out his hand.

“Come on, it’s just for two days- okay? You’ll have them back on the way home- let's just have fun.”

“Dad, we were supposed to get to the cabin an hour ago,” Wilbur said, still hesitant to give him his dead phone. Mom would be expecting a call tomorrow.

“We’re taking the long route- now give me your phones,” Phil snapped. Techno flinched, but handed Phil his phone - and Wilbur did the same - fingers tensing as he took it from his hands.

The car started without much fanfare, and Techno opened his bag of gummy worms, handing a green one to Wilbur. He didn’t like the green worms, which was convenient for Wilbur, who did.

Wilbur didn’t say a word for the next hour, just leaning on Techno as they silently ate gummy worms. The radio stayed off- the AC was quiet, having been turned to the lowest setting since the beginning. Hell, there were barely any cars or buildings on the sides of the roads. Just land and trees and the occasional farm.

It was almost ten at night when Phil stopped the car again. Techno was completely asleep, but Wilbur could barely close his eyes. Which was probably a good thing considering the way Phil had been acting.

“Dad?” he faltered, watching the man step out of the car into the night. He walked into what looked like an old garage with a rusty blue pickup truck inside. The only light came from a flashlight Phil had bought at the gas station, sweeping around the shed. He messed around with the hood for a bit, playing with the engine and moving back to the drivers side until the car started. Was he hot wiring it? Wilbur shook Techno awake when he realized he was moving stuff from shelves onto the old truck.

“Heh?” He groaned, glaring at Wilbur. He said nothing, just pointed out the window to Phil, who was walking back to the car. He opened the van door, grabbing the plastic bag of stuff from earlier and then gesturing for the boys to come out.

Techno opened the door.

“Dad you’re being weird,” Wilbur said, shaking in the cold air. It was still April. They still had school tomorrow.

“No, I’m not- you’re just tired. Up past your bedtime, “ Phil responded oh so nonchalantly. Wilbur grimaced.

“Yes, you are- you said we were going to the cabin and we passed it two hours ago. It’s not even cabin time- it’s a- a timeshare of something, remember?”

Phil stopped walking, standing still. Not facing them. There was a small gust of wind, shaking the pine trees around them, making Techno shiver even through his hoodie- and the pitch black night wasn’t doing him any favors either.

“Dad?” he said again. Phil looked up slightly. The stars were really bright- brighter than even at the cabin since they were supposedly far up north. Wilbur had always wanted to see the stars.

“I said we’re going to the cabin, Wilbur. Just like we always do. You’re just confused, you must've fallen asleep on the drive over and not realized.”

Techno fiddled with his sleeves, “dad that’s not true- that would make the drive feel shorter not longer.”

Phil turned around to face them, face dark with the only light coming from the flashlight he was holding facing the ground. He seemed taller tonight. Normally Techno was almost his height, but his twin shrunk underneath the gaze of their father.

“Techno you don’t know what you’re talking about. Get in the truck- we’ll talk about this later.”

Techno huffed, “no dad. I’m not going. You’re acting weird even I can tell. This isn’t right.”

“Techno-”

Wilbur stepped closer to Techno- if slightly behind, “is this about mom? Are you upset because she left?”

Phil’s eyes narrowed- though it was hard to tell in the dark. He stepped closer to them again, hand tightening on the flashlight.

“This isn't about Kristin. She’s gone. It’s us now, okay?” He said, grabbing Techno’s arm and pulling them to the truck.

Techno thrashed, and Wilbur pulled on his arm the other way, “No! Dad let go of me! Get off, I don't want to go!”

“Just trust me,” Phil growled. He grabbed the hood of Wilbur’s sweatshirt and pulled him with, not letting go no matter how hard he pulled away. It was a two versus one- but Phil was strong. Stronger than them at least. They were only fourteen.

“Dad let me go! What are you doing?” Wilbur shouted, shouts turning into gasping for breath, “where are you taking us?” He screamed. Phil grabbed a rope from the ground and wrestled his arms until he could tie one of his hands to the passenger seat’s headrest. Techno tried pushing past to Wilbur to get to Phil but the man just slammed the door and locked it. Wilbur banged on the windows and tried to pull the lock on the door up- but his shaking hand and the poorly designed truck wouldn’t fucking budge. He threw the rest of the stuff into the back of the vehicle and got into the drivers seat- turning the truck into reverse.

Techno immediately tried to grab Phil, yelling and reaching forward to stop him from- from something as Wilbur tugged uselessly on the thick rope burning his wrists. But when Phil turned around the both of them froze.

He was holding an old handgun. Pointing it back at them. Threatening them. They both stopped breathing. Only a whimper escaping from Techno’s mouth.

“I said, we’re going to the cabin. We’re going to the family cabin, boys.”

Wilbur opened his mouth once, trying so hard to say something- but nothing came out. His hand fell limp- still held up by the rope- the fucking rope.

“Good. Now get some sleep- we have a few more hours left.”

They sat back, but neither of them fell back asleep.

#no I refuse to give a proper summary unless I post this on ao3 #I don’t think I will but it’s be nice for at least one or two people to read it #anyways #technoblade #Wilbur soot #tommyinnit #tommyinnit fanfiction #wilbur soot fanfiction #technoblade fanfiction #sbi fanfic #sleepy bois inc #sbi

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12-toads-in-a-trench-coat · 6 months

Text

thinking about my twinsduo soulmate au.

Them. They're so. I love them so much. (This is my favourite whumptober fic) holding the brothers gently. Theyre brothers. BROTHERS!! YOU HEAR ME??? BROTHERS!! sobbing. sobbing. sobbing. they are so bittersweet. I NEED MORE(i am the writer and i will probably not write more despite that statement) holding them in the palm of my hand. SHAKIGN THEM. heres the link

#fanfiction #writer #ao3 #ao3 writer #sbi whumptober #writing #twinsduo #they are literally twinsduo #wilbur #technoblade #dsmp fic #dsmp au #soulmates au #sickfic #twinsduo fanfiction #wilbur soot fanfiction #technoblade fanfiction

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itsonlydana · 2 years

Note

I got another request: (if you can allow me that is lol) Can you do c!Techno with no. 17? With fem!reader?

"I am going to run away" - "I only asked you to wash the dishes"

➛ pairing: c!Technoblade x fem!reader

➛ tags/warnings: fluff, none

➛ event masterlist

➛ an: whoops, sorry for the wait!

important links: rules + masterlist

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

If you couldn't see it, it wasn't there, you told yourself as you buried your nose deeper into the book in your hands and pulled the blanket over your head lower. It was a boring book, one written in such an incomprehensible language that you weren't even sure if it was your language, because no one spoke in such a high-pitched way, and even after you concentrated really hard on the sentences, you didn't even begin to know what you had just read. It looked so appealing, not only because Techno loved to flip through the pages of this book and would look incredibly handsome as his eyes flitted over the words in fascination and he put a finger to his lips as he pondered, but also because the cover was really pretty.

Your attempts to read the book failed, but your concentration and sheer will not to come out from under your covers allowed you to temporally tune out the rest of your surroundings.

You didn't hear the front door to your cabin open and close as clothes were patted off. Your blanket caught all sounds, muffled the shuffling in the hallway, as well as the shedding of heavy shoes and a coat thrown over your heels from which fresh snow trickled onto the wooden floor. Footsteps unheard by you came closer, and by the time you could make out a pair of feet clad in thick white wool socks under the edge of your blanket on the floor, it was already too late and with an electric crackle in the air, the blanket was pulled up.

"Hey!" you shrieked as you were suddenly confronted with the warm light of the midday sun and a weird looking Techno in the room. Both two of your favorite things to stare at, unfortunately at a very inopportune time. Your lips slipped into a pained smile, with which you tried to convince both yourself and Techno. "Hey," you repeat yourself, this time with less startled crying and more loving affection.

"What are you doing?", Techno asked you, tilting his chin at the book in your hands. "Is that my book?"

"What, this? Oh yeah, I've always wanted to read that!"

Techno may not have been the fastest when it came to understanding any human emotion, but it was different with you. He could read your lie from your flushed cheeks and restless wandering gaze. Still, you confused him, a lot. It wasn't unusual for you to look for occupation in his things, but you didn't know piglin, so why would you browse through one of the books in his language, and then also hidden under a blanket?

After a while of awkward silence, in which you held tightly to the book and Techno seemed to consider what you were up to, he slowly turned away from the sight of you, curled up on his favorite chair.

Techno found his answer quickly, a skim of the open kitchen was enough to send any of his questions up in smoke, and the fact that you no longer looked him in the eye when he turned back to you and instead you sighed, abandoning your relaxed position and stretching your legs over the back of the armchair told him everything.

"I'm going to run away," you groaned out, hiding behind your arm so you wouldn't have to watch Techno laugh. The deep, vibrating, and most importantly, loud laughter caused more blood to rush to your cheeks and you pressed deeper into the chair, hoping he would swallow you.

"(y/n)-"

"Wonderful how amusing my suffering is to you," you murmured into your arm after interrupting Techno's attempt to speak with a skillful toss of one of the pillows in your back in his direction.

"Never would I laugh at that darling, your welfare is my number one priority" The smirk was clear in Techno's voice. You hurled another pillow, which he only dodged. "I only asked you to wash the dishes" he laughed "Not that you're acquiring a new language".

You dropped your arm and stared at him seriously, at least until his laughter became too infectious and your serious expression fell. Groaning in agony, you swung your legs down from the backrest and sat up straight. Now it was probably time, you had to face your biggest enemy, dirty dishes, and you couldn't keep hiding like a coward.

Techno, grinning, pushed the sleeves of his sweater over his elbows, then held out a hand to you. "Come on, together we'll beat this monster easily. And if you're still interested in the book afterwards, I'll translate it for you."

#danas 800 follower event #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp imagine #dream smp writing #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #technoblade fanfiction #technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #techno x reader #techno x you

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