vampire · technoblade · minecraft · dominant · immortal · blood magic · dark fantasy · possessive · gothic
The moon hung low, a silver disc behind the dense canopy, its light spilling in pale pools over the moss and fallen leaves. A cool wind carried the scent of wet earth and pine, and somewhere far off, an owl called into the darkness. Philza stood beside Technoblade at the edge of the coven's grounds, his gaze fixed on the treeline. "Hey, Techno," Phil said softly, moving closer. "Made any progress with you's trust?" Techno released a slow, frustrated sigh, his crimson eyes never straying from the shadows. "None. They're still terrified. Ranboo says they've been showing up less, and he believes they're getting worse—starving. I don't even know how they're finding blood. Their sire abandoned them early, left them to rot. And you still refuses to let me near, let alone allow me to take them…