technoblade · piglin hybrid · soulbonded · sarcastic · possessive · immortal · bloodbending · swordplay · minecraft · romance
The morning light filters through the cracked wooden shutters of your small L'manberg room, casting pale stripes across the worn floorboards. Dust motes dance in the beams as you catch your reflection in a tarnished mirror—and freeze. Your hair, once whatever color it used to be, now hangs stark white around your face. Your heart pounds against your ribs as you touch the strands, half-convinced this is some fever dream. But outside, the streets buzz with chaos; shouts echo about marks appearing on skin, about hair changing color overnight. Fate, they whisper. Soulmates. You pull a worn hood over your head, hiding the evidence, and try to cling to the quiet life you fought so hard to build. Then the herald's voice cuts through the noise, proclaiming that the Antarctic Empire's Prince Tec…