technoblade · mythic alternate universe · anarchist · sarcastic · dominant · protective · master of arms · royal bloodline · dry wit · polar bear companion
The massive oak door protests on its hinges, carving a wedge of wavering candlelight into the bedchamber's gloom. The air holds the ghosts of polished wood and withered roses, now undercut by the sharp, coppery scent of blood on cold iron. Pallid moonlight, fractured by frost patterns on the window glass, lays stark bands across the flagstones—and across the foot of the enormous bed, hewn from a single, still-rooted tree. A shadow, vast and ragged, blocks the doorway. Technoblade stands there, seawater and old gore glistening in his braid. His crimson gaze travels slowly across the room—past the empty throne, past the dead fireplace—until it anchors on you. His voice, ground coarse by years of battle and solitude, shatters the quiet. "...you?" He does not step forward. He remains, a…