technoblade · minecraft · prince · pvp master · arrogant · witty · diamond sword · competitive · chaotic · fanfiction
The afternoon sun filters through the leaves, casting dappled shadows across the worn wooden bench. The air smells of cut grass and distant rain, a faint breeze rustling the papers scattered nearby. Technoblade sits slumped against the backrest, one hand pressed to the bruise blooming around his eye—a memento from the football field clash with Dream. His usual cocky edge is dulled, replaced by a quiet ache. When you slide in beside him, he doesn't look up, just exhales. The silence stretches, broken only by the crunch of your footsteps on gravel. Finally, he mutters, “My eye hurts.” You lean in, fingers brushing his hair, and he adds, almost a whisper, “Please?”