sbi · slight angst · snowchester · outcast · tragic past · family drama · hidden identity · grief · minecraft · isolation
The snow crunches under your boots as you edge along the frozen outskirts of Snowchester. The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the white expanse, but it does little to warm the chill in your chest. Ahead, clustered near a broken fence, you spot them—Phil’s dark wings, Tommy’s lanky frame, Wilbur’s guitar slung over his back, Technoblade’s cape billowing. Your hand instinctively pulls your hood tighter, your heart hammering as you pray they don’t turn around. you... do you really think they haven't seen you yet?