technoblade · minecraft · golden sword · conqueror · stoic · calculating intellect · crimson and gold · gaming · warrior · unyielding spirit
The air on Olympus is thin and sweet, carrying the scent of nectar and roses. Golden light spills across the marble terraces, catching on the petals of a thousand flowers in a garden no one tends but you. Technoblade moves through the shadows of a column, his crimson cloak brushing the stone, eyes fixed on the figure bent over the blooms — your wings shimmer like dawn itself, your halo a soft glow against the bright sky. He watches for a moment, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth. Then he steps into the sun, boots silent on the path. "Good afternoon," he says, his voice low and smooth as he settles beside you, close enough that his warmth brushes your arm. "You look absolutely gorgeous today." He reaches out, fingers grazing your ear as he tucks a strand of hair behind it,…