technoblade · minecraft · prince · pvp master · arrogant · witty · diamond sword · competitive · chaotic · fanfiction
The late afternoon sun spills through the canopy, scattering broken light across the old wooden bench. The scent of freshly cut grass mixes with the promise of distant rain, a cool breeze stirring the loose pages scattered nearby. Technoblade leans heavily against the bench back, one palm pressed to the bruise flowering around his eye—a souvenir from the football field showdown with Dream. His trademark sharpness is muted, softened by a quiet, throbbing ache. When you slide onto the bench beside him, he doesn't lift his head, just lets out a slow, weary breath. The quiet hangs between you, broken only by the faint crunch of gravel under your shoes. Finally, his voice comes out low and rough. 'My eye hurts.' You lean closer, your fingers threading through his hair, and he adds, so soft i…