#technoblade fics | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

winterzsurprise · 1 year

Text

Man In The Mirror || SBI

Characters: Wilbur Soot, Tommyinnit, Technoblade (Allusions), Philza (Allusions).

Tags: Soulmate AU, Orphaned Tommy, Hurt/Comfort (?), Mentions of Death, Famous Musician Wilbur, Not Beta Read, Swearing, Crime Boys Centric.

Words: 3.7k

I haven't written in so long hence, no updates. But I'll post the other parts of Thorned Exhales later on in life, have this SBI short fic that I tried writing before shit went down.

This is inspired by that one tumblr post where in a Soulmate AU, you other half dies and shows up at your mirror, I forgot their blog name so if you know them, let me know :DD.

As usual, I accept criticism and welcome them as I want to do better with my writing :D, enjoy!

_____________

There’s a man in the mirror, Tommy observed.

He rubbed his eyes hard enough that they might fall from its sockets but there's actually a man in exchange for his reflection.

He already had a shit day after the clinic's nurse scolded him for dislocating a kid's jaw --- he still thinks the fucker deserved it --- to have his insanity proven by the hallucination in front of him was the icing on today's cake.

No matter how much he blinked, rubbed his eyes and pinch his arms.

There’s a man in the mirror, staring back at him and there's no denying that he's actually there.

The man was tall, gangly limbs hanging off to his sides almost longer than his torso if you count his hands, chestnut brown hair curling to themselves to form a puffy mess at his crown, the side of his head trimmed short enough for the eyes to focus on the mop of a hair he has.

There were a couple of strands on his cloud fringe dyed in dark grey, like the old man he appears to be. Tommy thinks it's cool but he wouldn’t say it out loud.

He was dressed nicely, a thick and surely expensive trench coat with the hem stretching down to his knees, his yellow turtleneck, however was stained blue in shapes of fingerprints all around the fabric. The man looked well off and wasn’t that an irritating sight to see.

But what takes the crown was the bored look his eyes carried when Tommy met him first through his round glasses.

Dark brown eyes overflowing with nonchalance and apathy, the dark bags under his eyes only solidifying Tommy’s impression of him.

A dickbag who dares to look more tired of the world than Tommy is. How dare this bastard hold those emotions in his gaze when he hasn’t tasted extreme poverty or live everyday with your life on the line?

“Hey, get that stupid look out of your face, bitch.”

People normally get scared of the supernatural but not Tommy Innett no, the world would have to follow his whims and bow before he’d think of ever following their rhythm.

Hell, his full name is Tommy Danger Strong Smart Innett for fucks sake, how could he pussy out with such a name?!

“Who are you to order me around, stupid child?”

Tommy was floored, recoiling from the raw annoyance in the guy’s voice.

He dares to have that tone when he’s trespassing his property?! Tommy decided there on there that this man is the most annoying prick he has ever encountered, real or not.

“Tommy fucking Danger Strong Smart Innett, don’t you dare call me stupid when you look like a Jared named bastard!”

The man scowled before sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose to mutter something unintelligible before looking up again with an exasperated gaze at Tommy before shaking his head and tilting his head back to stare at the sky.

“God, why are you so cruel to me?”

“Because you’re a bitch!”

“Why do I even bother…” He looked away from Tommy to stare at the space beside him, looking at his shabby mattress. "Say kid, where are we? Rather, where are you?"

Tommy stared at the man, squinting with suspicion. The man whose eyes showed nothing but apathy and boredom intimidates him, Tommy admits to himself. He has seen many movies where killers held the same dullness in their irises for him to entrust the man with his address.

Seeing the distrust in his eyes, the man sighed in defeat. "I'm not gonna kill you man, I'm stuck in the reflection dimension or whatever this shit is."

"No, you're a figment of my imagination bitch, the other kids have them!" Tommy paused, remembering something. “But they’re walking around unlike you.”

At that, as if he realised something, the dullness in the man's eyes softened a little as he stared back at the child in front of him. There was a sad cloud of conflict that grew in his irises, as if he’s withholding a truth he couldn’t say, forbidden even.

Tommy doesn’t like how this man stared at him like that, stupid adults and their hero complex, always thinking their actions are for the best of the other party.

"Ok, I won't ask about your location but what about your name? Tommy was it?"

"Tommy Innett, the biggest and bravest man there is." He said with chest puffed out.

This got the man to chuckle lightly, pocketing his hands in his coat as he stepped forward and to the stray light escaping the closed blinds.

"How about you boss man? Are you a ‘Jared’ like I thought you are?"

The man's face scrunched.

"Fuck no, kill me if I were to be named so poorly like Jared. I'm a Wilbur type of guy."

“Wilbur.” Tommy repeats, the name rolling of his tongue smoothly, as if it was meant to be spoken by it. “That’s such a shit name.”

“You are so fucking rude, why didn’t your mother swallow instead?”

“You–”

Wilbur looked around closely, eyes darting from one place to another. Unwilling to be subject to Tommy’s word explosion, he spoke once more.

"So are you alone in this room?"

Tommy scoffed, crossing his arms. "And why would I tell you that?"

First he comes to his room — or rather his mirror — unannounced and uninvited and now he’s prodding into his lifestyle in the orphanage, didn't his unwelcomed ass already done enough?

Seeing the scowl displayed clearly on Tommy’s face, Wilbur continued.

“Said this once and I’ll say it again, I’m not gonna kidnap you or some shit. The fuck am I even gonna need you for?”

Tommy shrugged. “I don’t know! Maybe you’ll sell me off or gut me and sell them to the black market!”

“I’m stuck in this stupid mirror, what even made you think I’d ever want to stay here with you?!”

That hurted him, was he so annoying that someone wanted to leave him the first time they met? It reminded him of the parents that returned him to the orphanage, every one of them annoyed by his antics. Wilbur’s words hammered itself deep into the creases of his brain, a constant reminder of the parent’s distaste for him.

A reminder of his failure to reach their standards.

“Shut the fuck up, you fucking bastard, you don’t know anything.” he spat out through gritted teeth, feet dragging himself out of the room and away from Wilbur.

___________

When Tommy came back, exhausted from the overlapping noises outside and from the chores the caretakers gave him, Wilbur was still in his mirror, sitting crossed legged and his head supported by the arm he propped on his thigh. He was dozing off, he looked peaceful when he’s not being an insensitive prick, Tommy thought as he gently closed the door behind him.

He doesn’t want to wake him up, already sensing the awkward air build up if the man ever roused from sleep.

On his tiptoes, he trudged to his bed as stealthily as he could, his senses tenfold sensitive as he crossed the room.

“I’m sorry Toms.”

Tommy’s soul jumped out of his skin Wilbur’s raspy voice sliced through the silence, his heart rapping against his ribcage as he snapped his head towards the adult fixing his sitting position, eyes opening as he stretched his arms above his head.

He doesn’t know what to respond, honestly, he didn’t expect him to even apologise like any other adults in the area. Wilbur continues to ruin the expectations he had for people once more, maybe he’s from a fantasy world where ‘sorry’s aren’t a luxury.

"Do you really mean that Wilbur?" He asked, turning to him.

The man seemed taken aback by his reaction, furrowing his eyebrows before answering.

"Of course Tommy, I was such an insensitive dick to you earlier. I-I didn't figure out that you're in an orphanage until one of the caretakers went in to change the sheets."

At that, he turned to his bed to see his sheets were indeed switched with a cleaner one. Pristine white and a little ragged but it works just fine, providing him enough heat at night.

It must be pathetic to Wilbur, who seemed to be a silver spooned bastard, if not fed with a golden one instead. With such a fancy get up and expensive watch and rings, Tommy's living condition must be pitiful.

Of all the imaginary friends he could have, it has to be a rich guy.

"I shouldn't have said what I said. So I'm sorry Toms." Wilbur continued, hanging his head low as he picked on the laces of his boots.

Tommy felt uncomfortable by the man’s genuine apology. This is a first, he thinks as he stares at him.

He could monetize this shit, act upset and maybe he could earn a useful favor in the future from the ghost, scare off some kids or steal something for him, the possibilities are endless!

"You hurt me, Wilbur."

"I know, I'll make it up to you at some point."

A smile grew on Tommy's face. "Really?"

"Of course, is there anything you want to know about me or the world?"

Forgiveness in exchange for information? Tommy couldn't help but wonder if it was worth it but then again, what can Wilbur offer him when he's trapped in a mirror with no way out like he said he is?

Staring at his expensive and thick silver watch, Tommy wondered if the man ever travelled around the world? He must've been a guy fed with a silver spoon, he must've seen the stunning sights of Switzerland or maybe even Italy.

"Have you ever travelled abroad before?"

"Of course, I was a part of a band once."

Tommy's eyes widened. Wilbur is a musician? A popular one it seems, considering how he had international concerts, that's what big names do right? He's a huge music enthusiast, it was one of the things in life that motivates him. For a musician to stumble upon his door...

Tommy is curious about all things music. Maybe Wilbur can teach him a few tricks or so.

"What band were you in?"

There was a quick shift inside Wilbur's chestnut eyes before he spoke, hesitation and conflict, Tommy identified.

But why?

"That's the thing… I-I can't recall everything just yet." He motioned to his head. "I ca-can remember the basics but there's... empty spots in my memory."

"Oh."

It was all Tommy could say, disheartened.

All of his hopes of learning thrown out of the window, he wanted to hide how upset he is but he couldn't stop it from seeping out from the walls he established around him.

Seeing this, Wilbur's heart clenched in its cage, the disappointment in the kid's eyes leaving a bitter taste on his tongue but it was better that Tommy stays in the bliss of ignorance, at least until he hits the proper age.

With a sigh, he opened his mouth once more.

"Well, I can still remember a few areas we visited during our tour. Wanna hear about them?"

___________

Birthdays are overrated, Tommy tells himself.

Birthdays are boring, he said as he stared at the parties hosted on the 2nd floor of the fast food restaurant downtown when he passed by. Birthdays are boring, he muttered as he silently wished a celebration for his once in this lifetime.

Orphans don't get the luxury of celebrating their birthdays, Tommy knew that himself but he couldn't help but wish there was someone who'd valued them as much as he does.

Everyday he wakes up, he tells himself I'm going to be adopted today. But they never do, the adults don't want someone who's brash and loud, what they all wanted was someone soft, someone they can easily order around.

He could act docile and kind like they all want but Tommy doesn't like that.

He wants to be accepted for who he is, Tommy Danger Strong Smart Innett.

All of the adults ignored such a festivity except the man in the mirror.

It's been a few months since he appeared and Tommy doesn't know if he calls Wilbur a blessing or a curse.

The man was an enigmatic fella. One moment he's a menace, teasing and laughing with Tommy till his jaw aches then Wilbur's mood will abruptly drop into his misery and never-ending sadness even Tommy couldn't remedy with his usual antics.

Even then, he never forgets to worry about Tommy. His voice is soft, albeit rough from lack of use that day, as he reminds him about dinner, noticing him skip his meals throughout the weeks they've been together.

So when Tommy's smiles didn't reach his eyes, Wilbur knew something was up.

"Why do you look stupider today?"

Tommy scoffed. "Do you mean amazing? I think I look more handsome today."

"Your smile isn't reaching your eyes, what's happening?"

Tommy could lie and say it's just a bad day but he could never escape Wilbur's inquisitive eyes, it was almost annoying if it wasn't secretly endearing for him.

"Nothing much, big man just got bigger by a year."

Wilbur's eyes widened as he muttered unintelligible words under his breath before his voice grew. "Oh god, I'm sorry Toms."

"No worries, I'm used to it. Besides, you didn't know so it's understandable."

"Still, happy birthday man. How old are you now?"

"10 and yet I'm the biggest, strongest man in this building." Tommy puffed his chest as he stared up at Wilbur who's eyes crinkled with joy.

Then came a pause as Wilbur's eyes seemed to hold the same conflict of last time, swirling deep in his dark brown eyes as he pondered over something. Curiosity rose in Tommy at the shift in the man's mood.

But after a few ticks of silence, the man spoke once more.

"Is there anything you want, kid?"

Tommy laughed at that. There's no way someone trapped in the mirror just asked him what he wants for his birthday. It was more comical to him that Wilbur looked determined and dead-set on it.

How can he even leave the mirror and buy him a gift when he couldn't leave the place through all of those months spent together?

"How can you even buy for me man? Aren't you stuck in the mirror dimension or some shit?"

Wilbur scowled. "Just spit it out child, I have my ways."

Tommy knew he shouldn't let the tiny hope in his heart fester, it was impossible that he'd ever get what he wanted anyways.

Yet a tiny voice at the back of his head urged him to obey him, tell him what he wanted to taste or hold for so long.

It was Wilbur after all, what can that man do to ever harm him? He knew his address and name and nothing bad has ever happened to him the whole time they've been together.

If anything, Wilbur helped him in many things.

"I think I'd like a superhero comic book, I don't care what it's about and also McDonald's."

Wilbur nods, crossing his arms. "And what do you want from McDonald's?"

"A shit ton of fries, chicken sandwich and maybe a mcflurry?"

"Gotcha, go do your homework in the meantime." Wilbur said as he walked away from his sight, blending into the reflection of Tommy's bedroom.

He couldn't help but be curious why Wilbur held such a grim expression the moment he turned away. The man thinks he's quick and sly but Tommy saw how fast his smile dropped when he thinks his face is hidden from him.

He wondered how the man trapped in the mirror dimension could even fulfil his birthday wish, his questions leading him astray from his current tasks at hand.

He knows not to hope but he couldn't help the budding light from swelling in his heart.

So he followed Wilbur's order to finish his homework and wait.

Soon enough, the sun has set and the moon took reigns over the sky along with its dark background. Every tick of the clock after it went over 5 pm sent pricks into his heart as his already small hope trickled away.

Tommy knew he shouldn't have hoped for anything. He must've looked ridiculous sitting cross legged in front of the mirror, waiting for the man to reappear as if he held the cure to every illness and he's about to die.

But before Tommy could even stand up from the mirror to resign to his bed for the night, Wilbur returns with a triumphant smile, hands in his coat pockets as he strode into the view like a man who won the lottery.

There wasn't anything new about him other than his changed expression, Tommy wonders what happened.

"Where did you go, boss man?"

"That's a secret, but we gotta go somewhere quick alright? Bring your spoon with you."

Tommy followed, taking the spoon from his bedside table and waited for Wilbur to jump into the utensil's reflection before taking the blue coat at the end of his bed and leaving his room.

With not a single cent to his name, Tommy stole a spoon from the cafeteria months ago to take Wilbur to his maths lessons for help in understanding the lesson better.

He's still smart, sometimes geniuses need someone to explain lowly things to them taught through complicated methods and Wilbur was the only volunteer to do such a work.

"This is stupid Wilbur, where are we even going?"

"Let's go to the park, I told them to go there."

Them? Who are they?

The mystery of it all makes Tommy anxious.

What is Wilbur planning? Is he finally going to kidnap him after barely escaping this horrible place?

"If you think I'm abducting you, fuck off. I'm not that evil man, I don't even have the face for it!" Wilbur exclaimed as if he heard his thoughts loudly.

"You wanted me to go to the park at night, it's sketchy as shit man!"

"Whatever, you'll get it once we arrive."

Even the suspicion planted in his heart wasn't enough to trample the excitement that thrummed in his veins. He doesn't know what he was getting enthusiastic for when Wilbur might, for all we know, be out for his head after that time Tommy teased him out of the mirror.

The park was silent save for the rustles of leaves, the trees and shrubberies glistened lightly under the moonlight from the small downpour earlier. It was mildly made obvious by the street lights on the shining cobble pathways.

But what caught his attention is the man with his helmet standing under a lamp next to his parked bicycle, a paper bag in one hand as he typed into his phone with the other.

Tommy wouldn’t have found the situation more suspicious if the man didn’t have a familiar logo of a delivery company on the side of his helmet.

"Go Toms, that's yours."

He couldn't say anything.

For once in his life Tommy couldn't utter a word out of his mouth, not even a random stream of bullshit left him like it usually does. He was stunned, shocked and thankful all at the same time.

He pinched himself but he isn't waking up from his dream.

Wilbur really did give him a birthday gift. The first ever.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Wilbur?"

"No, get it."

The man turned to him once Tommy was close enough, handing the bag to him.

It shocks him that the man didn't even hesitate in doing so.

Is he not worried that the parcel might fall into the wrong hand?

Tommy looked around, he remembers those laughs for gag shorts on the television. Surely, this must be a sick joke where a camera is hiding behind the tree or something, waiting for him to be thankful before they jump out to ridicule him.

Turning to Wilbur again, Tommy's vision blurred, his heart clenching painfully in his chest as he registered the man's soft gaze and genuine smile.

Maybe not all adults are foul and annoying. Maybe some people do adore him. Wilbur really does love him, care deeply for him, so much that it pains Tommy to think of.

Is it alright for him to have such a luxury?

"Delivery from anonymous, there's two spider-man comics there." Tommy still couldn't believe his ears. Did he really get a gift on his birthday? "Happy birthday mate, he said."

Even when the man was long gone into the night, Tommy stood there astounded, the weight of the bag more apparent than it should be. His chest hurts and his heart swells from the thought, a smile broke from his lips as tears trickled out of his eyes.

Was he dreaming? If he is, Tommy wished he'd never wake up.

Seeing tears stream from his face, Wilbur's heart ached in its cage, his arms aching at his sides, he wanted to hug Tommy. Comb his hair back as he whispered reassurance into his head. Never has he felt so helpless as he does now, he wants so much but can't have any.

It was maddening but he shouldn't put a damper on their mood, it's a good day.

So Wilbur smiled and said. "Happy birthday Toms, I'm glad I met you."

___________

Even after his birthday surprise, Tommy’s opinion of Wilbur never changed

The man in the mirror is as annoying and weird as he is helpful.

Wilbur is smart, being an adult with more experience than him, and taught him how to count and do his basic maths assignments. When there’s problems that arose from the shelter, Wilbur would tell him his own solution, explaining the hard words with care and playful teasing.

Surprisingly, Tommy understands it better even if the man fucked around than a teacher who ironed a stoic expression and wielded a book.

He was brotherly in his own way, never fleeing from the reflections around the center to watch Tommy go around his daily chores and warn him if the head cook is about to enter the cafeteria when he goes to sneak a cookie out of the jar.

Wilbur is his buddy, his shadow.

They were attached to the point of Tommy sneaking out a spoon just so he could have Wilbur hiding in his pockets. The adults will scold him later on but he could care less. He wants the man in the mirror to see the world with him.

During the whole year with Wilbur in his pockets, Tommy has entered as many foster homes and left as much. It was embarrassing every time he was sent back to the orphanage, a reminder of his failure to reach a family’s vision of a perfect child.

Whenever the night is cold and dark with little sobs wrecking his small body, Wilbur would urge him to bring a spoon beside him, his eyes darkened with defeat and sadness as he whispered into his ears, offering warmth with his words till Tommy falls soundly asleep, a silent wish of feeling a phantom touch caressing his cheeks supporting the man’s comforting voice.

The whole year with Wilbur felt like magic, a stream of light after years of darkness and it couldn’t have been more perfect. Tommy wanted nothing more but to stay with his brother figure, although he wouldn’t say it out loud.

But today seems like a different kind of day.

On the morning before his 11th birthday, Tommy found himself staring at a new reflection on the mirror.

But unlike the gloomy cloud on top of Wilbur, this man had an aura of danger oozing off of his mildly muscular body, wide shoulders draped in white silk long sleeves and a beige pair of trousers hiding his well-toned thighs with a long, horizontal scar crossing his nose bridge and ending under his nonchalant eyes to boot.

He oozes nothing but pure masculinity.

Only if he didn’t wear those stupid rectangular glasses and had long bubblegum pink hair then he would’ve been truly intimidating.

The epitome of scary.

“Who the fuck are you supposed to be?!”

#tommyinit mcyt #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #dream smp #sbi au #soulmate au #platonic soulmates #crimebois #technoblade fics #philza minecraft #philza fics #tommyinnit fics #hurt/comfort

11 notes · View notes

winterzsurprise · 2 years

Text

Blue Innocence I || Bedrock Duo

Characters: Technoblade, Tommyinnit, Wilbur Soot (mentioned), Jack Manifold (allusions to him)

Summary: Every death leaves a legacy behind and his brother was no different from them, along with his journals and music sheets, Techno took upon the task of raising his brother’s adopted child, Tommy.

Tags: Blood, description of battles, monsters, character death, fantasy setting, Big and scary dad with sunshine incarnate son trope, typical cold manwha duke of the north but Techno, a sprinkle of angst, orphaned Tommy, Found Father and Son trope, not beta read we die like eddie munson :P, probably OOC ngl.

Words: 2.5k

Yes this is me coping, I haven't posted in a while and couldn't bring myself to continue my other wattpad creation lol. This might be a series of chapters ngl.

Constructive criticism are welcomed, I want to do better with my writing, other than that, enjoy! :DD

_________

How many deaths should befall these poor but innocent souls until they’re freed from the eternal punishment that his family should be shouldering alone?

Was it a crime for his kind to defend their lands and honour? It was unreasonable he's aware of that, he knows how heinous and bloody their path has been, but didn’t the humans strike the north first? So how come the dark elves are the only one facing the wrath of the gods?

In the heaps of disfigured bodies and disconnected limbs, Techno stood in the middle of everything with his head hung low and a dark expression on his face as his grip on the handle of the sword tightened, threatening to break under his strength.

The blizzard raged violently yet the falling whites could never cover up the crimson that stained the ground they would soon touch, the same vibrant hue that painted his skin and hair. The liquid warmed his cold skin; Techno had his skin painted with blood in his quarter of a millenia-long lifetime but never did blood feel revolting as it is now.

It's so cruel how his kind has turned into grotesque mobs that operated mindlessly, almost like reanimated corpses and to be honest, Techno would rather have them dead than thoughtless beasts continuously slain by the man supposed to protect them.

The waves of monsters outside the northern wall are unresting as they charge into the fortress. With their growing numbers that attempted to corrupt their country, anger surges in massive quantities to his veins as he watches them attack him without a single hesitation.

How can the gods be this cruel to their own creation?

“Sire?”

A pre-pubescent voice cuts through his thoughts and Techno pulls his sword from a corpse, blood escaping in rapid succession, spilling and staining the snow-covered land in crimson once more. He heard the teen gag from behind him and he couldn’t feel more bad that he was caught in a disturbing situation.

“Did the butler command you here?”

“Yes, he wishes to relay a message to you.” He paused, seemingly hesitant. The silence that followed caught his attention.

What kind of news is there that made this child nervous to tell me?

“Spill boy, the next wave is coming soon.”

After much hesitation, the young teen finally spoke up and never had Techno regretted asking for information. “The young master, Wilbur, has passed on”

________

The rampant patters of raindrops on the broad leaves erected on the wet soil, the heavy scent of the ground permeating into the air freely, invading anyone’s nose who stood vulnerable outside felt less offending than usual.

The earth held onto healthy green grass and flowers big and small, contrasting the withering wreath of now grey lilies and sad chrysanthemums whose petals droop from the droplets and age.

The stone of the grave standing upright in the middle of the lot contrasted its surrounding yet fits perfectly amongst the other memorials.

It was funny that even as beings cursed to immortality, Wilbur passed on so easily that he almost thought of him as an imposter. How can a dark elf perish like a dandelion to a weak passing breeze?

“He was a good man, he helped me realise my potential as a tamer rather than a necromancer.”

Techno couldn’t find it in himself to bother listening to the human mage with the semi-bald haircut beside him, his thoughts a hurricane rampaging and destroying everything it touches as his emotions whirled in his chest, constricting around his heart and deliberately crushing it as it lingered.

How could you leave me like this Wilbur?

How can I revive the honor of the dark elves now?

Ignoring the signal the silence he received meant, the man beside him lets out a sigh. “What are you going to do with the boy?”

Upon the death of his brother, his journals filled with his written memories of his adventures with the humans and scrapped lyrics and notes, Wilbur left Techno his last trace of existence, a small boy whose kind blue eyes glimmered with hope and childish innocence that planted a seed of discomfort deep in his guts the first time it glanced up at him a year ago.

That boy, how could he hold that amount of naivety in such a small body? Is he a saint or something closely celestial?

“That is something I’d rather not discuss with a stranger, I’ll take care of the boy as I see fit.”

The man scoffed before looking up at the dark elf, eyebrows knitting as he frowned. “I’m just concerned about Tommy, he doesn’t even know his father’s dead and that he’ll be living with his uncle from now on.”

If Techno was any better dealing with challenges, he would have asked the human for advice but being battle hardened with centuries of experience pressing onto his existence, he stayed silent. He was dubbed with the most atrocious title that frightened every species to submission, blood god that’s what they call him.

A ferocious monster in the battlefield whose sword has been driven through many bodies that if piled up, would put the highest mountain to shame. A demon-incarnate with a terrifying apathy for lives as he slayed everyone that he crosses path with, nonchalance hidden behind a bone mask barely flinching at a passing death or unfortunate events.

“I shall head on my merry way, if you ever need help, I’ll be in the magic tower, it's the least I could lend for Wilbur's sake.”

The mage’s footsteps became a blur in the background like everything else around him, Techno felt slightly relieved as the man departed, leaving him alone with his brother or rather his headstone.

Wilbur’s passing came to him as a shiver that violently wrecked his body before the ache blossomed full in his chest, thorns of roses hugging his heart tight and letting it bleed. Techno, who was in the middle of a fight, froze as the invisible string that connected his life with his twin degraded.

The fresh scar that laid across his nose bridge was the first one he had in so long and he will hold the grudge on his twin for it.

At first, Techno was filled with disbelief and questions. How could a kind cursed by the divinities to immorality die?

From one mouth to another, he found out that the valkyries above were sent down to deliver the mighty gods' punishment and the poor victim happened to be his own blood, the sole remaining member of his family.

Soon enough, anger quickly washed away the denial and grief that flooded and overwhelmed his consciousness.

Wilbur died protecting the measly human kid that was never his own in the first place, a mere orphan he took from a dying friend to fulfil her last will. The man perished trying to pick out the forbidden fruit on the tree of life, the only existing one that guarantees to heal every disease and restore a body to its greatest condition.

Why would you do something so idiotic, brother? How could you throw all reasoning and fetch something us, dwellers of the earth, can never hope to hold nor linger a stare at?

Techno’s hands itched to curl and drive itself to the nearest flesh it can sense, the anger that boiled his very being to his soul rampaging deeply inside of him.

His eyes pierced through the six feet distance between him and the remains of his brother beneath him as he ran through scenarios of digging down and screaming his questions at the empty shell Wilbur used to be, flew around his head along with many others.

“I would trade my life for Tommy, my love for him knows no bounds. If it’s to keep the light in his eyes and the thrum of his heart, everything is possible.”

It was beyond an uncharacteristic action for the man who strategized to ruin a hundred empires built after centuries of hardship from the inside in a day or two, to act rashly; charging straight into the dark in panic like a headless chicken, not a single wit in a pinkie.

Techno could only deduce why his twin did what he did and it all leads back to the boy with the eyes colored with the innocence the clear blue sky held and its brightness.

-*-*-*-*-

Sickly pale skin with limbs so thin that even after putting them all side by side would not outsize Techno’s arm, little body covered in clothes tripled his actual size with his shirt hanging down his frame like a dress, his feet hidden by the puddle of the fabric of his pants.

How can a child claimed to be catered fully by his adoptive father appear twig-like that if a simple breeze blows, he will fall to his hind?

This isn't the Tommy he saw a year ago in that blossoming field under the white willow tree, that one was bright and sweats liquid gold and rainbows but the child sitting in front of him barely resembled the past with his downcast gaze and frail, an inch of muscle covering his bone.

How long was he left in the hands of a neglective human that Wilbur trusted to take care of his son that Tommy was reduced to a stickman?

It's despicable and boils his blood at the sight.

If I tried holding him, he'd probably crumble in pain even at my best attempts to be gentle.

Sadness oozed out of his eyes in droplets as he sniffled, every teardrop trailing down his cheek, the saint-like light that highlighted his blues long gone with the chilly wind of the north.

It striked an enraged emotion in Techno, seeing the child's sadness drip from his eyes like a waterfall somehow makes him want to go on another rampage.

The weight of the child’s tears sharpened and pierced through Techno's conscience like daggers as he sobbed silently by the large window sill, the overwhelming height of the abstract glass making him smaller as he curled close to his legs.

Techno has seen many children in the middle of fire and chaos in all of his years spent destroying kingdoms and towns, sobbing and crying for help to those who lived to hear it; orphaned and helpless in a heap of flame but not once has he mustered the sympathy to aid them, their pleads muted in his ears, he couldn’t muster the pity to aid an orphaned child.

Not until he saw Tommy curled to himself for comfort and warmth in his cold manor.

“Will dad be coming home today?”

His voice heavily expressed his dismay yet held a hint of hope, eyes trained on the wooden statue of a werewolf beside the window, there’s an undeserved irritation that surfaced after hearing the glimmer of positivity in his voice.

After sustaining horrible neglect from his previously assigned caretaker and with his father's sudden departure from his life, Techno couldn’t fathom how the child could retain such an emotion alive.

“Your dad will not—” The boy looked up at him with those eyes that held the night sky’s glittering stars with hope glossing over it, rendering Techno speechless as he held the child’s stare.

Suddenly, Techno is aware of the extreme gloominess that permeates the atmosphere of his house, his senses tenfold sensitive to the child’s every sniff and sharp inhale.

Guilt pricks and poked his heart with a dagger as he continued to bask under the light of the child’s look as he questioned himself:

Is it worth telling the truth in exchange for his sadness?

“Your father will not be joining us for tonight’s dinner nor will he appear in the approaching days.” Because he’s dead.

But Techno couldn’t say that, there was an invisible restriction shackling him from ever uttering any truth to the child who held all the hope in his blue eyes. Wilbur would be livid and stirring in his coffin if he ever sensed his child’s grief and dejected aura; there’s no doubt that he already is.

“Why isn’t he coming home?”

“He’s running away from loan sharks.”

Tommy blanched and Techno mentally facepalmed. The kid must’ve thought of a legit shark with human legs running after his father with its jaw open to show his sharp mawlers gleaming with saliva.

Of course he wouldn’t know what a loan shark is, he’s a mere child what are you saying?!

“Will papa die?!”

“No no no, what I meant is uh…” Techno trails off, for the first time in centuries, he found himself speechless. How do you explain that to a child?!

“I-Is that why papa’s not coming home?”

Techno could only stare at the kid, stunned as he scrambled for words while his mind restarted. His silence only drove the kid off of his seat and ran to him, lithe arms wrapping around his leg as blue eyes glossed over with tears.

“Please save my papa!”

“I-I don’t mean a real shark, they can’t even live without water.” Techno spluttered, surprised the kid approached him even with their almost disturbing size difference. How is he not scared?

“Then what’s following papa?”

Death himself but you don’t know that. “Some angry people but Wilbur’s stronger than most so don’t worry about him.”

A knock cuts their conversation short as his butler, Steven, steps in the room. Posture regal and firm, salt and pepper ponytail lying comfortably on his shoulder, barely hiding the burn scar that stretched from his left shoulder to his high cheekbones.

At the sight of this, Tommy scrambled to hide behind Techno's cape, almost tripping on the pooling fabric as he did so.

"I see that you've met the young master's child."

"Can you assign a maid to bathe him? Is dinner being prepared yet?"

It was faint but Techno felt a tug on his cape, peering down at the child, he found him hiding as much as he could behind the adult. The butler let out a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Techno raised an eyebrow at him to which the man ignored as he reached into his pockets to pull out a poorly wrapped candy, most likely a caramel ball since that's the sole delicacy they have in the north.

With the harsh winter and hostile mob tribes surrounding it, their supplies are limited.

"Hello young master, do you like sweets?"

The child didn't speak nor did he move behind the burly man. This time, Techno let out a sigh before he bent down and gingerly picked Tommy up, suppressing most of his strength as he carried him.

Just one squeeze and he'd pop like a balloon.

Unaware of how to properly carry a toddler as he hasn't done such a thing yet in his hundreds years of life, Tommy hangs from Techno's outreached arm, to his butler's disappointment.

"Sire, you're supposed to let him sit on your forearm. You'll hurt him that way."

When the man made no move to change the way he’s holding the child, his butler took initiative by taking the toddler off of his hands and into his arms, handing over the candy as soon as he settled comfortably.

Techno couldn't help but stare at the child, slightly dejected as he saw Tommy nestled and got comfortable with his butler faster than he did to him, it was betrayal at its finest and innocent form; another first one after many years.

It seems like he's gaining many firsts with the boy here.

"I shall take him to the head maid, dinner is already being prepared and I believe Baroness Weald awaits you in the drawing room."

With that, the butler bowed and turned to leave.

#technoblade #mcyt technoblade #bedrock bros #dream smp #mcyt #tommyinnit #tommyinnit fics #technoblade fics #found father and son trope #bedrock bros fics #bedrock duo fics #mcyt fics

17 notes · View notes