Anonny

The three of you searched all through the night for a beehive.

That didn’t mean there wasn’t a moment without running into creepers, skeletons, zombies or spiders. You had even run into a baby zombie once or twice, and both times, Technoblade would shout “Watch out Phil!” when the baby would chase Phil. Phil would wheeze, and you giggled at the points when Technoblade’s voice would give out, or he would cough from the misuse.

And when dawn came, barely lighting the sky, the mobs, terrified of the light, fled to find cover, but Phil and Technoblade wouldn’t spare one mob.

Except for the Endermen.

They would spare the Endermen.

But still not a single nest.

You were tired because 1) you don’t normally stay up all night, and 2) from all the traveling and not taking a single break.

You were exhausted.

But Phil and Technoblade didn’t look like they were as exhausted as you, and you felt a pang of jealousy of their supernatural ability to not need sleep.

“When can we take a break?” you whined, lagging behind Phil and Technoblade as they searched their own trees for a hive. With no luck, Phil decided to answer you.

“I do think we need a break.” Phil looked to Technoblade, but he didn’t stop his searching. “Mate.”

“Break is for the weak, and your training isn’t over yet,” Technoblade pointed at you, who cried at his statement.

“But I’m tired! I don’t stay up during the night like you do!”

“Mate, we can at least take a break to eat. I’m sure we’re all hungry,” Phil backed you up, but not in the way you wanted him to.

“I need this honey farm made now, Phil. Finding the bees is step number one. How else are you going to build the farm if we don’t even have the bees yet!”

“But don’t bees spawn in birch, normal, or flower forests?” you pointed out, and both Phil and Technoblade snapped their heads your way. “What?”

“Heh?” Technoblade spat out. “You knew this and let us wander aimlessly!”

“I thought you knew!” you defended yourself. “I even thought Phil knew too…”

“It never really clicked. But yeah, that makes sense. Bees normally don’t like the cold,” Phil rubbed his neck sheepishly.

“Phil!” Technoblade cried.

“I’m sorry mate!” Phil laughed.

“Let’s go this way!” Technoblade proclaimed, making a sharp turn and headed that way.

“Techno! Let’s use the map! I’m sure we’ll find an oak forest faster than just wandering aimlessly!” Phil bellowed a laugh.

But Technoblade wasn’t listening. He continued on, leaving you and Phil behind, the two of you rolling your eyes.

“Here. I’ll go get him. Just see if there's anything around to get out of the snow.” Phil handed you a rolled up map before sprinting off to where Technoblade went.

“But I don’t know… how to read a map. And you’re gone,” you tried to get out but Phil was gone before you could finish your sentence.

“Sure. Leave the one person who doesn’t know how to fight or know how to read a map alone. By herself. In the cold morning,” you sighed, a shiver running through your body as if the world heard you and a cold, brisk breeze swept the land.

Most of the crows stayed, while some of them followed Phil.

“Whatever. I’ll circle around and see if I can’t fill the map–” you thought out loud, but stopped when you rolled open the map.

It wasn’t empty like most maps should be.

It was filled with bright colors, different shapes, and with different icons. Most of the icons looked familiar. Like the ocean monument. Or the unmistakable icon of a villager, and when you looked closer, there was a village.

“What the fuck?” you whispered. You flipped the map around, expecting to see nothing, but the icons were there with names next to them. And when you turned the map back around, hoping your tired eyes were playing tricks on you and it was actually empty, the bright, different colors and icons were still there.

Bamboozled by the overwhelming colors, you noted the glowing, green arrow pointing west.

The direction you were facing.

You tested it, turning in a full 180 while watching the map. The green arrow followed the way you looked and when you turned back around to face west, it followed once more.

You stared at the map to find the closest forest to find bees. Each color had a small, pixel icon, and one of them looked like a flower. It didn’t look that far, but then again the map was only big enough.

You turned in a circle again, watching as the green arrow followed you and when you were north-west — the direction a flower forest was in — started walking.

The arrow followed as you walked forward, and from above, you heard the crows call out.

But you ignored them, continuing to follow where you were pretty sure a flower forest was.

What else could the icon mean?

The crows followed, and in a very short time, the snow thinned gradually beneath your feet, the white giving way to patches of grass, then dirt. The air changed too, losing its sharp bite, warming just enough that your breath stopped fogging so thickly in front of you, but still a little crisp. Like a cool breeze on an autumn night.

You didn’t get much farther into the forest before fast approaching footsteps came from behind you. Snapping out the daze from the map, you turned harshly around, suddenly holding your breath in fear as to what — or who — was behind you. The crows above cawed and you assumed it was to alarm you about whatever was running your way. So you threw yourself to a tree and quickly climbed it, the compact leaves on the branches hiding you completely.

“Damn it, where is she?” Came Technoblades voice as he and Phil ran past under your tree.

“The crows said she walked off this way. She can’t be that far ahead of us,” Phil huffed as they continued to run.

“I swear, when I find her-”

“I’m right here!” you shouted to them, jumping down from the branch you were on. Phil and Technoblade slid to a stop like two cartoon characters before turning around and seeing you dust off your skirt.

When you looked at them, Phil had a slight grin while Technoblade was harshly glaring.

“I thought you were hunters-“

“What were the rules?" Technoblade interrupts, his voice low, stunning you.

“What?”

“The rules. What are they?”

“Techno,” Phil calmly butts in.

“You can’t be serious,” you said with Phil.

“I’m dead serious. What are they?”

“Phil said I could-“

“Phil knows how to survive,” Technoblade says, his voice flat but still just as pissed.

Phil hesitantly speaks up. “He’s not wrong, but mate, I did tell her to look around.”

“Then don’t,” Technoblade directed at Phil, who raised an eyebrow curiously.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t give orders that get people killed.”

His words pulled at something in you. Like a cold chill through your blood.

“No one's out this far,” Phil rolls his eyes.

“You’re the one who left me behind,” you huffed, trying so hard not to raise your voice.

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point? This whole trip was Phil training me and so you can get bees for some ungodly reason!” You started raising your voice, frustrated at the constant back-and-forth, up-and-down of his emotions.

“The point is that you don’t wander off when you don’t know what’s out there.”

Phil, fed up with being ignored when he’s partially to blame, steps in before this argument blows way out of proportion. “Ok! We’re not doing this in the middle of the woods,” Phil says calmly but firm. “She’s fine. You’re fine. No one died. Let’s keep it that way, alright?”

The silence became deafening to you. Even though you were breathing heavily and so badly wanted to be heard and show Technoblade how unfair he’s being — or has been.

“Next time, you don’t move unless one of us is with you. Got it?” Technoblade breaks the silence, his hard gaze softening a little.

Very little, though.

“Got it?” He asked again when you didn’t respond right away.

You sighed, clenching your jaw in irritation, but nodded anyway.

“Got it.”

“Good! Since we’re all alive and only mildly arguing, where were you headed, exactly,” Phil clapped, questioning you.

“There’s a flower forest this way, just past a plains biome,” you pointed north-west.

“That right?” Phil raised a brow.

You nod, a little more confident. A little less tense.

Technoblade studies you for a long second.

“Alright,” he finally says. “We’ll follow you this time.”

“Wait, really?” you asked, stunned.

“Yeah, you’re the one with the map,” Technoblade ever so slightly eased his tone. “But if you’re wrong, then we lost some daylight and we’ll never trust you again.”

There it is.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, instead you did as you were told and led the way, leading them through the forest and before long, the tree line broke free, exposing the great plains.

And just past a valley, was a forest, with different flowers of different colors scattering the ground. The afternoon sun graces the lovely flowers, with shadows creating a beautiful scene under the trees.

“Well look at that,” Technoblade broke the silence, resting his hands on his hips, impressed. “You were right and we haven’t wasted half the day.”

“Is that a compliment, Mr. Blade?” you dared to tease, breaking your eyes from the scenery and up to the Piglin next to you.

“Nah,” Technoblade drew out, also staring at you with a cheeky grin.

“I think that was,” Phil chimed in, startling you a little as he snuck up to your left.

“Me giving compliments? Never.”

“I think you’re going soft,” Phil teased.

“Who me? For a woman? What a preposterous thought.”

“C’mon!” you grinned. “Denial is a very convincing look on you.”

“Let’s collect these bees before nightfall!” Technoblade shouted, completely ignoring you and descending the small mountain they stood on top of.

Phil laughed and you giggled as you followed the Brute.

When your group found the first bee, you froze for a second, staring at it like your brain had short-circuited, briefly comparing it to Journey 2: The Mysterious Island, where the world stopped obeying its own rules.

But this was starting to become normal, in a way that felt less like learning and more like remembering.

And for a good portion of the day, the two men followed bees around, finding their nests when the bees collected enough pollen.

The first nest Technoblade broke with his pickaxe angered the bees, stinging at the Brute who ran away while screaming like a little girl.

Of course, his antics made you and Phil burst out laughing.

“You have to put a campfire under it so the smoke rises and calms them down,” you explained once they found another nest, and Technoblade wasted no time in making a campfire.

When the two worked together to place a campfire under the nest, and broke it with their pickaxes, the bees didn’t attack, and stayed inside the nest as Technoblade stuffed it in his pouch.

After that, the boys continue collecting more bees, while you decide to relax a little, stopping to smell the flowers; tulips of many colors, poppies, dandelions, and some lily of the valley.

Some bees that managed to escape from Phil and Technoblade hovered around, landing on the flowers and collecting pollen around you, but you didn’t mind. You know bees don’t attack unless provoked.

The sun had reached its peak when you started to get hot, your clothes designed to withstand the harsh cold of the tundra, not the blazing hot of the warmer biome.

You could take your cape off to ease the heat, you were worried about Phil.

While Niki had let you know that Phil knew about you, you weren't sure if he knew about the wings, or the possibility of magic.

Technoblade had promised you that anyone who saw your wings wouldn’t hesitate to get their hands on them. And while you remembered Phil from the real world and his character, that was without you.

Now you are here.

And you wondered; would these wings mean more to take than Phil’s loyalty to Technoblade?

“Damn, it’s getting hot,” Phil complained, taking off his blue over-coat, and his giant, black wings snapping out like a rubber band returning to its original shape.

”Nah,” Technoblade held out, “You’re just weak. This is nothing compared to the Nether.”

“Don’t remind me,” Phil groaned, stuffing his over-coat in his pouch.

You stayed lying on the ground while listening to the hybrids, trying to enjoy the sun, but with the rising temperatures and your thick clothing, it was hard to enjoy it.

“Hey, aren’t you getting hot?” Phil asked, making you open your eyes to look at the crow hybrid.

“Hmm?” You pressed. “A little, but not too bad. I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re hot, take off your cape. It’ll cool you down a little until nightfall.”

“Oh, um,” you hesitated, tilting your head back to glance at Technoblade.

“Go ahead. You can trust Phil,” Technoblade shrugged his shoulders, acting like it wasn’t your choice to trust Phil.

You thought for a long minute, before deciding you wanted to enjoy the sun. So you sat up, unclasping the chain under your chin and shrugged your cape off.

Immediately the warmth of the air hit your wings, but it wasn’t like the tundra. Your wings sagged a little more and your shoulders slumped at the warming sensation.

And immediately, you rolled onto your stomach, sighing as the sun beat directly down on your wings.

Like this biome is where you're meant to be.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Phil asked without looking at you, watching as a bee collects pollen to follow it to its hive, and you hummed in agreement.

Quickly, with the sun beating down on you and the humming of bees started to make you sleepy. Before long, you had started drifting off, and the last thing you heard was Phil say, “I think she’s had enough training for a break. Let her have it, mate.”

And the warm arms of one of them lifting you up.

“Oh, um. Hello,” you shyly wave, the birds unmoving as you wave, some even cawing right in your ear. “What!”

“Chat, leave the poor woman alone!” Phil scolded at the birds that surrounded your body.

All the birds, even ones in the trees, looked to Phil, fluffed their feathers and rattled in unison. Some of them even made a hissing sound. 

Phil and Technoblade physically took a step back, staring wide-eyed at the crows, then towards each other. They said nothing as they looked at each other, and you could only assume the noise all the crows made wasn’t expected. 

Or very friendly. 

“What just happened?”

“They basically just talked back,” Technoblade answered, huffing through his snout.

“Talked back?” You tilted your head. One crow thought you were wanting cuddles, and nuzzled into your tilted neck. You internally squealed, and audibly “awed” at the bird’s action.

Before Technoblade or Phil could answer you, all the crows — except for the one cuddling your neck — rattled again, but this time it seemed like it was focused on the one bird.

“What is going on?” you begged, lifting your head from cuddling the bird. One bird on your head hopped off, and landed on the one that you were just cuddling and that one didn’t like the one from your head being on him/her, and they started pecking at each other. 

Both were cawing and whining at the fighting and you started rolling your shoulder to get them off. The two did, taking to the sky, and the others on you joined, chasing the poor bird away. You didn’t have a chance to breathe before more flocked you, covering you head to toe in crow once more. This time, however, multiple crows hopped near your head, purring loudly in your ears.

“Help,” you whispered to Phil, causing him to laugh loudly.

“Sorry mate. They don’t like me anymore.”

“What does that mean?” You practically shouted, but the birds on you weren’t bothered by the noise.

“They didn’t necessarily say anything when they rattled. It was just a noise they make when they’re angry. They did not like that they needed to leave you alone.”

“Well they better listen, because we still have training to do,” Technoblade chimed in, stomping his way to you and the crows. All of them snapped their heads towards him, and continued their rattling and hissing, synchronizing enough that it sounded like a horror movie.

“Mate, I don’t think–” Phil started to say, but when Technoblade got close enough, all the crows took off, swarming Technoblade.

“Hey– what! Stop that!” Technoblade shouted, protecting his head from the crows, who started pecking him one by one.

Phil laughed loudly, bending over and slapping his legs.

You stood frozen as the birds swarmed him, unsure of what to do, or how to help.

“Chat– stop! Stop!” Technoblade continued to shout — practically begging at this point — and tried to walk away, but the crows followed, not one crow leaving the swarm of attack.

“Mate, you’ve–” Phil couldn’t stop laughing at the scene, barely getting words out to tell Technoblade something. “Just run, mate!” Phil finally managed to get out in between laughter, and he didn’t have to tell Technoblade twice. The Brute started sprinting away from the swarm of crows, his tail — which you just noticed — in between his legs.

Phil wheezed at the sight, falling into the snow on the ground, wrapping his arms around his stomach, tears falling from his face.

You still stood frozen, shocked that the birds had the audacity to attack the Blood God, just to protect you.

What were they protecting me from? You thought quizzically.

What finally made you start cracking was the distant shouts of Technoblade from the forest, and synchronized caws from the crows.

You didn’t even take a breath before the laughter escaped you. It was loud, sudden, and incredulous. Maybe not as loud as Phil’s, but it escaped before you even realized you were laughing. Eventually, you did take a breath, but the laughter continued, creating a coughing sound.

One breath after the other, you laughed at the sounds of Technoblade in the distance, the absurdity of the crows, their reaction, and their actions, and the wheezes coming from Phil, who was practically rolling in the snow, still clutching his stomach.

“I’m–” you tried speaking, but couldn’t catch your breath. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be laughing, but this is just so hilarious!”

“Don’t–” Phil also tried catching his breath, but continued to laugh as the shouts from Technoblade continued.

“Don’t be! He knew what was going to happen,” Phil managed to get out, but went right back to laughing. “This has been the funniest thing I’ve seen all week!”

“They won’t hurt him,” you paused to catch a breath. “Right?” 

“A little bruising, but I think the important thing we should be asking is if his dignity will be alright!” Phil laughed louder at the word ‘dignity’.

Even you laughed harder, using the railing on the patio to keep you upright.

By the time you and Phil managed to catch your breaths, and the shouting from Technoblade and cawing from the crows died down, dusk started peaking the horizon. Technoblade had come back, at sundown, his sword out, fur sticking out in all different directions, with some black feathers sticking out, his shirt wrinkled from its tucked position, and his cape askew, with a snarl on his face. The crows didn’t dare descend from the trees, but that didn’t stop them from practically laughing at Technoblade.

“How’d you fare, good sir?” Phil dramatically called to the Brute, who shot him a glare.

“I pulled my sword out and they backed off,” Technoblade eventually explained, but the crows rattled at his comment.

Phil chuckled, and Technoblade didn’t meet either of your eyes, instead glaring at the crows.

“I think they just disagreed,” you spoke up, raising a teasing eyebrow.

“How would you know? You don’t even speak crow!” Technoblade grumbled, but ultimately sheathed his sword and entered the basement part of his cabin.

You, seeing as the sky turned dark, and noticing the mobs in the distance, turned to enter the house. Phil stopped you by grabbing your upper arm.

“Nu-uh, mate. Night time is the perfect time for training!” Phil exclaimed, too energized for an old man.

“But it’s dark out!”

“We wasted the day away. Nighttime training,” Technoblade explained, zero emotion in his voice as he exited the basement.

“It forces you to rely on your instincts instead of your eyes. Sometimes you won’t be able to see your opponent, but your instincts never lie.” Phil explained, descending the stairs, and returning to Technoblade’s side.

“So what? I’m supposed to fight the mobs with nothing but my fists?” You whined, staying stationary at the top of the stairs.

Instead of responding, Technoblade untied a sheathed sword from his belt, unsheathing it a little to show the glowing, blue sword that peaked out.

“With this.”

You gaped at the realization that this was the same sword he bought at the village your first day there. You descended the stairs, and walked to grab the sword, but Technoblade held it over his head.

“Not yet, though. You wouldn’t even be able to hold it.”

“How else am I going to be able to hold it without holding it?” You pushed, sticking your lip out in a pout.

“That’s why I’m here!” Phil chimed in, gleefully smiling at you. “I have my methods on how to train, while Technoblade has his own. Mine are, of course, better, but you just had a spec of what’s to come!”

“My training is just fine, I’ll have you know, old man!”

“Not old!” Phil shouted, but Technoblade waved him off.

“Let’s go.” Technoblade’s usual monotone voice sharply demanded, walking towards the edge of his land, where there was more space and where y’all had been training for the last few days.

He didn’t stop, however, when he reached the fencing. He easily hopped over his own fence, and turned towards you and Phil, who was all ready to hop the fence.

You opened your mouth to question why you were leaving the safety of the property and into the unowned, non-lit void of darkness, where mobs were lurking around every tree, hill, and mountain, but ultimately closed your mouth. 

Waiting and finding out what training was going to be like tonight. 

Hopping the fence, you made sure you didn’t fall on your face — or wrist — this time, and watched as most of the crows followed your little group.

The three of you walked for a while, and if any mobs — mostly zombies, sensing them from a farther distance than other mobs — came closer, Phil or Technoblade would take a few swings at them before they poofed. 

Little orbs of experience points fall under the dead bodies like some reward.

If they so happened to run near creepers, Phil and Technoblade would slay them down with ease, not one creeper exploding from their attacks and tactical retreats. 

If skeletons shot arrows, you were pretty good at dodging them, and Technoblade or Phil — or both — would block the arrows with their swords, or dodge the arrows, and when the skeleton was reloading, the duo would slay it just like the zombies.

It was confusing, but not at the same time. Like this was normal, and she adapted to the world's logic way quicker than any sane person.

A sane person would question everything, like how the days seemed faster, but not at the same time. Or how the skeletons managed to walk and shoot with no muscles or fat to hold them together. Or how the creatures of the world are. Or how normal it is to heal with just eating food.

Oh how that should work in the real world. You fantasied dreamily, before focusing again to the current world when an Enderman whooped next to you, but didn't attack.

“Just don’t look at its eyes and you’ll be alright. No use in attacking an Enderman if they aren’t hostile,” Phil called when he heard the whoop of it teleporting. He didn’t even look back to make sure you weren’t getting attacked, like he wasn’t an ancient relic.

“Phil,” you began, and he only hummed for you to continue.

“How old are you?” You had hesitated to ask, but pushed past the uncomfortable feeling and asked.

Technoblade called your name with warning, but Phil waved his hand.

“Woof. I stopped counting after a few hundred years. All I can tell you is the stars are completely different than the first day I awoke. Even then this world is old enough that I’m considered young. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. I just thought to ask because it’s been bugging me for a second.”

“Well, compared to XD, I’m young, but to someone like Technoblade, I’m old.”

(gag to this, check them out!)

“You’re old compared to me,” you whispered, but Phil heard it.

“I think you’re a different case,” Phil pointed out.

“What does that mean?” Both Technoblade and you asked, but Phil chose — or refused to — not answer.

“Phil,” Technoblade pressed, staring at his old friend with such curiosity, you wondered if he’d die like a cat too.

“We’re here!” Phil clapped, stopping in his tracks and turning to you.

“Phil.”

“Training starts here!”

“Phil!”

“What?” 

“What did you mean?” Technoblade asked again.

“Mean what?” Phil tilted his head in confusion.

“‘I think you’re a different case’?”

“I said that?”

“Phil,” Technoblade sighed, exasperated. “I think your memory problems are returning.”

“I never have memory problems!” Phil shouts jokingly.

“When’s my birthday?” Technoblade pushed.

Phil was silent to think, and you giggled at the crow hybrid’s predicament.

“My point stands.”

“Doesnt matter! Because I remember why we’re out here!”

“Oh yeah old man? Why’re we out here?” Technoblade mocked, throwing his hands on his abnormally large (yet sexz) hips.

“Who’s the one with memory problems now? Training, remember!”

“I didn’t forget, old man. I was testing you!” Technoblade said matter-of-factly.

“See, I remember perfectly clearly when you guys didn’t tell me how I’ll be trained!” You interrupted.

“Bah! You’ll find out here shortly,” Technoblade waved his hand dismissively.

“Exactly! Go punch that tree,” Phil demanded, and pointed at a random, spruce tree, its bristles topped with untouched, white snow, like icing on a cake.

“Punch… the tree,” you drew out, staring at Phil, then to the tree.

“Yup!”

“Shouldn’t I need to use an axe or something?...”

“Mate. Punch the tree,” Phil chuckled, crossing his arms like a stern father.

You walked up to the tree, stared at its bark like it would magically chop itself down.

Neither Phil or Technoblade said anything, and the only sounds were the whooping of the Enderman that was still nearby, some rattling of skeleton bones off in the distance mixing with groans of zombies.

You took a deep breath, balling your fist and barely hitting the tree with any force, scared you’ll break your hand if you punched too hard.

“Mate. Harder.”

“I’m going to break my hand!” you whined, turning to Phil with a pleading look.

“No you’re not. Punch the tree!” This time Technoblade chimed in, using his demanding tone.

Practically startled by Technoblade’s sternness — or was it confidence — you reeled your hand back and shot it forward and into the tree bark with all your strength.

At first, nothing happened.

But when you reeled your hand back to throw another punch, there was some bark chipped off in the shape of your first.

“Woah,” you whispered, and once more used all your might to punch the tree. More bark broke off, and this time, your fist went a little deeper into the wood. But then there were the cracks. When you punched the wood again, more cracks appeared — and some longer ones — as your fist met the wood.

By the time you hit the wood seven times, the cracks started circling the tree, and your fist molded a crater into the wood. By hit number 15, the tree broke, but not in a normal way.

A piece of the tree popped out and a small, square, wooden block sat in its place. It hovered, like two magnets that refused to touch, but nothing about it felt weird. 

This was normal, but seeing it in person instead of behind a screen?

Totally weird.

You reached for the small block, and it remained in size, and it didn’t feel heavy like a wood should’ve.

And the tree.

It floated between the stump and the rest of wood above, where the snow on the pines were undisturbed. 

You wanted to make a comment, but decided not to, scared that by revealing this anomaly wasn’t meant to be like this would get you called out by Technoblade again by your lack of knowledge in this world.

Questioned who you really were.

“Uh… Where should I put this?” You turned to Phil and Technoblade, holding the wooden block out to the two.

“Here!” Phil exclaimed, pulling a pouch dyed with your favorite color out of his… pouch. He tossed it over to you and you caught it with your free hand. It weighed a little heavy in your hands, like something was in it and when you opened the cinched top to look inside, there was a wooden axe inside.

You stored the wood into the pouch and pulled out the axe, which came out with ease, but the axe was normal size.

Nanny McPhee head ahh over here! You joked internally, a smile etching across your face.

“Thank you,” you expressed gratefully.

“Now make a crafting table!” Phil encouraged.

You blinked owlishly, your mind drawing a blank.

This world didn’t have inventory. 

Just belts to hold tools, pouches that have infinite space to hold blocks, food, resources in general, but no way to make crafting tables to start crafting in the normal 2x2 square.

Phil saw your blank stare, like a brainless animal finally collecting its only brain cell to create a thought, and just chuckled.

“Place that wood block down and use the axe to split it into four sections,” Phil began, and waited while you reached back inside the pouch, grabbed the small wooden block, and threw it to the floor. 

Magically, as it fell, it grew back to its original size, but on the ground, and the rings inside the wood on top.

You raised the axe and swung down, splitting the large log into two halves. Moving to your right, swung the axe again and the log split in half again, creating four sections of the original log. In place were four, spruce planks, and magically once more, it stitched itself together, all four planks combining to create a crafting table.

“Useful,” Technoblade commented, and you looked at both Phil and Technoblade with amazement.

“That is so fucking cool!”

Phil laughed while Technoblade chuckled.

“Got the basics down. Let’s teach you some other crafting recipes,” Phil explained while approaching the table.

Under the table, there was a book. To you, there were very few things on the first page, but Phil flipped through it like he knew it like the back of his hand.

“This book will update as you gain more resources, but right now you probably only have a few things. To pick it up, just grab with both hands, lift it off the ground and it’ll shrink like the wood,” Phil explained, demonstrating by lifting the table with ease, and when it was lifted from the ground, it shrunk small enough to fit in the palm of his hand.

Exactly how he explained it would.

Phil handed the small table over, and you collected it, storing it in your pouch.

“Alright, basics down. Phil, we have things to collect!” Technoblade clapped, interrupting you and Phil from your teacher/student bubble.

“Right. The bees and turtle eggs!” Phil gasped, before turning back to you. “Store your axe in the pouch for now, I’ll find you a weapons belt soon enough.”

“Not before she chops the tree fully down!” Technoblade scolded. “I will not have my property value drop because there's a floating tree.”

“We aren’t even on your property, mate!” Phil laughed loudly.

“If I can see it from my property, it’s my property.”

You decided to just listen, raising your axe to chop at the next log. This time the tree broke down, pines instantly falling to the ground, the snow following a millisecond after, and the logs shaping to small blocks, falling with the pines and snow.

Immediately, you were drenched in snow, the collection of small snowflakes compact to weigh more than a horse, landing right on you, almost engulfing you completely in snow. 

Your head was the only thing poking out of the snow pile.

Phil burst out laughing, and even Technoblade couldn’t hide his laughter.

“Not funny!” You pouted, attempting to shake the snow off you.

“You look like a snowman! A snowwoman!” Phil joked, holding his stomach from laughing so hard.

“Help me!” You cried when the snow was too compact to escape.

“Ok, ok!” Phil laughed, but Technoblade held up his arm to stop Phil.

“She’s got to learn how to escape on her own. Sometimes we won’t be there to help her get out of trouble.”

“You’re so mean! Just this one time, please!” You begged, this time you were able to dig your arms out and above your head.

“If you can’t get out of that, how will you be able to hold your sword?” Technoblade asked.

You thought for a second, then glared at Technoblade. “You knew this would happen. A heads up would’ve been nice!”

“And miss this masterpiece. Absolutely not.”

You groaned dramatically, but with your arms free, you were able to push the top layer of snow. You swiped the top layer enough that your torso was free, and instead of bending over to dig out your legs, you used all your strength to lift one leg. It broke free from the snow, and with the pressure of the snow no longer restraining you, you were able to step out of the snow pile and stomp up to Technoblade.

“That was… so not cool, Brute!” You shoved a finger into his chest, and with your height difference, you had to crane your neck to even look him in the eyes.

Technoblade smirked, slighting tilting his head down to get a better look at you, tilting his head in mock defense.

“What’s wrong princess? Feeling humiliated?”

“Very.” You whispered lowly.

“Well that’s too bad, because earlier you were laughing at my crisis with the crows,” Technoblade whispered back, slightly leaning down to look you in the eyes.

“You better sleep with one eye open, Brute,” you threatened.

Technoblade went to respond, but Phil cleared his throat, causing both you and Technoblade to look at the crow hybrid.

“You guys going to kiss, or what?”

Your face lit up as you shoved Technoblade away, the Piglin stumbling a little but regained his balance.

“You’re such a perv, old man.”

“Phil!”

Both you and Technoblade said at the same time, with you hiding your face with your hands and turning away from the two, and Technoblade crossing his arms, and turning his head in the opposite direction of you.

“Oh you naive children,” Phil shook his head. “I’ve been alive long enough to know that look. That look of desire, want–”

“BEES!” Technoblade shouted, his voice cracking at the end. “Bees, Phil. We need bees!”

Phil laughed again, but decided to not push it further, and followed Technoblade when he started walking again, but you stood in place, too stunned, too flustered to move.

“C’mon mate! The night’s still young!”

It was just past noon when they arrived back at the cabin, and Technoblade let You slide off Carl before following after. You went towards the staircase, but a “nuh-uh” from Technoblade made you halt in your tracks.

“Right. No leaving your sights,” you groaned, but Technoblade shook his head.

“Nope, that's not it,” he clicked his tongue, finishing up with unsaddling Carl and feeding him a carrot.

“Then what ‘is it’?” You airquoted.

“It’s training time!” There was a little excitement behind his words, but not at the same time.

“Training? For what?” You gasped, looking at the brute with panic.

“Well you can’t fight–” Technoblade began, putting a finger up — even though his hand only had three fingers.

“I totally can–” You interrupted, throwing your hands on your hips in offense.

“You broke your wrist jumping my fence.” Technoblade shot back, giving you a teasing glare.

“You have tall fences!”

“Fenses will be the least of your worries on the SMP,” he replied, very unfazed by your comment. 

“I–” you started but shut your mouth when you had no comeback. Instead, you pouted and looked away from the brute. 

Technoblade smirked like he’d won the bickering war. He walked away from Carl’s pen, and disappeared behind the door next to his enclosure. He exited a few seconds later with a wooden sword. 

You put two and two together. “Why only one sword?”

“I doubt you’ll be able to hit me even once,” Technoblade cockily replied, tossing the wooden object at you. 

You clumsily caught it, instinctively wanting to cower yourself from the object. You adjusted the sword to grip the handle with both hands. 

You paused, staring at your wrapped wrist.

You frowned, flexing your fingers around the handle.

Your wrist didn’t throb.

It didn't ache.

Didn’t scream at you the way it did the day before.

“Wait,” you muttered, twisting your hand slightly. “My wrist doesn’t hurt.”

“You’ve been eating?” Technoblade questioned, like you were the dumbest person alive.

“But what does food have to do with healing my bone back into place?”

Technoblade stared at you for a long minute, studying you. You felt his stare, looking from your wrist to him, watching as his face held no emotion, or anything to hint at what he’s thinking.

Then, he furrowed his brows like he was angry.

“Who are you? Really.” Technoblade practically growled.

You were stunned by his sudden change in behavior.

“What?”

“Who are you?” he pressed again, this time a little more angry. “You find my cabin out of nowhere. You say you're running from someone but won’t say who. You’re a complete mess, with nothing on your person, not even clothes to keep you warm. And you’re clueless about everything!

“Who. Are. You.” This wasn’t a question anymore. Technoblade was demanding to know who you are.

“I grew up somewhere far away from here. Away from L’manberg, away from the election, the war, the rebuilding!

“Where I’m from, you don’t just heal because you… ate. You wrap injuries. You bandage them. You use potions. That’s how it works. I’m not clueless… I just… I grew up learning some things differently.

“And I had to leave everything behind because I’m being hunted!” You rushed to explain, watching Technoblade to make sure he wouldn’t attack you, or his change of emotions on his face, or even hopefully believe you.

The words made sense as they left your mouth, yet somewhere inside you something felt off.

Silence stretched between you, before Technoblade relaxed his face.

“You’re holding the sword wrong,” Technoblade scolded, pointing to the sword in your hands. 

“What?” You gasped.

“Your dominant hand goes on top while your non-dominant hand goes below.”

You looked back down to your hands, seeing as he’s right, and adjusted your hands to be exactly that, and when they were in place, looked at Technoblade again, expectantly. Waiting to see if he had any more questions — more like accusations — for you.

“And your stance,” he scoffed at you. “Widen your stance, and make sure you have balance. Keep the same foot of your dominant hand in front, while the other is slightly back.”

You followed his instructions, stepping your right foot a little wider, and bringing your non-dominant foot a little forward with the other foot back. 

“Decent.” He hummed, stepping forward and walking around you, judging your stance. “Bend your knees a little bit.”

You listened once more, glancing down at your legs, bending your knees under your skirt. 

“Ok, not bad. Glad your skirt is loose enough to allow this,” Technoblade practically mocked.

“You’re very nitpicky,” you whined, already tired of his judgment. 

“Not nitpicky. You have to get the stance right to even think about surviving the SMP.

“Now step forward.”

You stepped forward with your back foot, pivoting the other. 

“Don’t focus on your feet, focus on the weight of the sword when you step forward. If you focus on the wrong thing, you’ll get killed before you even swing.”

“This is all new to me, can you not pick at everything I’m doing wrong? Can’t I focus on one thing at a time?” You pleaded, looking over your shoulder but Technoblade wasn’t there. 

Suddenly, your back foot was kicked out from under you and you fell to the floor. You let out a loud yelp as you fell, landing flat on your back in the snow. You had flung the sword somewhere the moment you lost balance.

Snow crept up the back of your collar as you stared at the sky, blinking, stunned more than hurt. The clouds drifted lazily above you, entirely unconcerned with the fact that you’d just been humiliated by a man with hooves.

Technoblade loomed into your vision a second later.

“Lesson one,” he said calmly, looking down at you. “If you take your eyes off your opponent, you’re already dead.”

“You tripped me.” You groaned, hiding your face with your hands. 

“Very good. You noticed.”

“That’s not fair!”

“There is no fair in love and war,” he replied immediately. “There’s life and there’s death. Pick which one you want.”

He nudged the wooden sword back to you with his boot. “Up.”

“You didn’t even say you were going to do that,” you grumbled as you grabbed the sword and rolled onto your side and pushed yourself up, snow clinging to your clothes and hair.

“Neither will your opponent.”

You huffed. “You’re enjoying this.”

Technoblade snorted. “Incorrect. If I were enjoying this, you’d be face-down.”

You shot him a glare, brushing snow off your clothes with your gloved hands. “You’re awful.”

“Stance.”

You muttered multiple unkind words under your breath, not even the goddess of death would repeat, but obeyed, feet widening, knees bending, sword up, one hand on top the other. Your grip felt shaky now, knuckles tight around the handle.

Technoblade circled again, boots crunching softly, the snow indenting as he walked around. “Better. Still stiff. Relax your shoulders.”

“I just got kicked over.”

“That was the point. Fear locks you up, makes you doubt yourself. That’s what gets you killed.”

You swallowed, forcing yourself to roll your shoulders, eventually relaxing them slightly.

“There,” he said. “Now, step forward.”

You stepped. This time, you kept your eyes on him.

And this time, Technoblade lunged.

You squeaked, instincts screaming, and swung wildly. The wooden sword cut through empty air as he sidestepped with infuriating ease, but you didn’t fall.

He paused.

“You didn’t look away,” he practically praised. “But you’re supposed to back up when someone lunges at you. And don't close your eyes.”

“Still new to this,” you snapped, glaring at the brute.

“Doesn’t matter. You won’t know when you’ll need to fight for your life. Again.” 

Technoblade didn’t wait for an answer as he lunged again, this time raising his fist to swing at you. 

Instinctively, you closed your eyes and attempted to block the punch with the sword. Raising it to protect your face.

You did this for days. Technoblade would wake you up harshly — he’s started stomping around upstairs before descending the ladder — toss you an apple, and he would rush you to eat before leaving the cabin entirely, and you would finish eating.

It’s been an unwritten rule that he would leave the cabin when you would change, since you didn’t have your own room, and he once explained, “Too much work. More convenient if you just stay sleeping on the couch,” as he put his boots on to leave. And when you were done changing, you would meet him outside.

There, Technoblade would toss you the wooden sword, you would stance up, Technoblade would lunge at you, and you would attempt to block, or even swing to hit the brute sometimes. 

Every time was a bust.

Today, however, was different.

Technoblade didn’t wake you up early, nor stomped around upstairs to wake you. It was like he was deliberately trying to be quiet that morning. 

However, everything was too quiet. No movement upstairs, no grumbling of you waking up late. Just quietness, with the exception of the shudders rumbling outside the cabin.

That’s odd. You thought, slowly sitting up and looking around the current living area you'd been sleeping in. Technoblade wasn’t at the table, eating a baked potato. He wasn’t descending the ladder to wake you. The sun was already past sunrise, which you had to guess was probably around 9 or 10 o’clock.

As you looked around, you clocked the apple, sitting patiently on the bar table, just ominously waiting to be eaten.

Next to the apple was a small, black box.

Curious as to what it is, you got up and headed to the bar. You grabbed the apple, shoving it in your mouth and picked up the small, black box with both hands. You turned it around and inspected it.

Underneath the box was a ripped paper with some writing on it.

“‘Gone. Be back before noon. Don’t try running, I’ll find you. And don’t leave the property, or snoop around, I’ll know. I have eyes everywhere.’ Tsch, this guy is so extra,” you hum out loud, but not like anyone could hear you as you set the apple down, a bite taken out. “‘The pager has my number. Emergencies ONLY.’” You thought for a second before you started typing away.

where did you go exactly? You typed, not thinking the first — and only — number would actually be Technoblade’s. And just to see how he’d react to that message.

There wasn’t an immediate response back, and you set the pager down to take another bite of your apple. You enjoyed the apple, taking a very close look at the cabin. Since you've been there, you never really had a chance to look around in great detail, being outside all day and passing out the moment you’d hit the couch.

The cabin wasn’t clean. 

Not dirty either. 

Everything had its place.

It just looked… neglected.

A thin layer of dust dulled most surfaces, undisturbed except for a few places that clearly saw regular use. Shelves lined one wall, cluttered with potted plants that looked stubbornly alive despite the lack of sunlight or water. You frowned at them, suspicious, before spotting a framed self-portrait mounted above the fireplace.

You snorted quietly.

Of course.

The bar table nearby was coated in dust too, except for two clean patches. One beneath the pager. The other where your apple rested, a faint swipe mark betraying where Technoblade obviously “cleaned”.

You finished the apple, and threw the core into the composter, and just as you closed the trap door over it, the pager beeped with a new message.

that’s not an emergency.

use it for what I said. don’t waste it.

You scoffed. “You take that long to respond, and that’s all you have to say.”

You responded back with, then give me niki’s number.

Once more, you had to wait for him to message back. You drummed your fingers against the table, blowing out air as you waited for him to message back.

What felt like eternity, the pager beeped.

“‘I gave her your number. Don’t give her the cords to the cabin.’ Like I even know what the cords are,” You rolled your eyes. There was another beep with another message from Technoblade. “‘That isn’t a request.’”

Then another.

technoblade got you a pager i see. The message was from a different number. Presumably Niki’s.

not sure how, but yes. niki, right? You typed back, a smile breaking out on your face.

yup! glad he did it quickly, i was worried i was going to have to wait an eternity for him to get you a pager lol.

“Glad they know some slang like ‘lol’,” you laughed, typing back on the pager.

thank you again for the pads and tampons! can’t believe i forgot those lol!

i’m surprised technoblade even knows what those are, hes never around women that often!

not surprised. You giggled at Niki’s comment and your reply, but the moment you sent the message, you had no idea what else to message about.

You assumed Niki noticed the falter in messaging, because after a second — how is Niki responding faster than Technoblade? — there was beep on the pager.

you settling in ok? i know he can be a little intimidating when you first get to know him.

You thought for a second. Would it be too much to tell Niki he’d been teaching you to fight, knocking you on your ass like its soccer? Or about the note about him being gone?

Ultimately, you decided to tell Niki about the last few days since your first meeting.

hes way more intimidating than a ‘little’! hes a big guy, yet he manages to knock me on my ass every other second! i blink and hes behind me!

training i presume? 

Niki didn’t wait for you to reply.

and be thankful its him, i heard phil is a little more intense on the training aspect. phil told me one time that hes the reason technoblade is as brutal as he is now because of him.

oh peachy! technoblade said i would meet him eventually. i hope by that time ill already be able to stand my own against techno.

apparently, and you didnt hear this from me. apparently phil already knows about you. said he already knew for a while now.

Of course Phil already knew about you. The crows probably wouldn’t shut up when they reached him.

You smiled, warmth curling in your chest in a way that surprised you. You hadn’t realized how much you’d needed this. 

Someone casual. Someone who didn’t watch you like a hawk. Someone who thought you were just a human. Someone without wings to tear off.

A friend.

The familiar laughter from Technoblade — although rare — came from outside, with a new laugh alongside his.

technoblade needs my help. text you later!

You messaged Niki, before clipping the pager on the hem of your skirt; opting to wear a warm, forest-green, long sleeve, turtle-neck shirt. Its neck thick enough you looked like a frog croaking, designed to keep your neck warm. You matched it with a maroon, ankle-length skirt that had equally matching color stitching in shapes of little hearts embroidered in lines going from hem to hem.

Quickly put on your boots, you grabbed your cape from the hook and exited the cabin. 

The cold outside smacked you in the face like it was a slapping competition, forcing you to blink away the immediate cold in your eyes. Technoblade and a man with a mixed-matched bucket hat walked past the gates, both laughing without a care in the world. 

Well, more like you weren’t there, standing at the top of the staircase like an awkward gremlin. 

The crows returned, and they were the ones who spotted you first, a large flock of them flying right to you, practically all of them landing on you, cawing loudly. Some even hung off you like you were monkey bars.

With the commotion of the crows, Technoblade and the man next to him snapped their heads to you.

The man next to Technoblade laughed loudly, while Technoblade shook his head in disappointment.

“Phil, Y/N. Y/N, Phil.”

“Nice to meet you, mate!”

In this (and last) chapter, I know I talk about messaging as paging, and while I'm not old enough to fully understand how pagers work, I read a Technoblade x reader where they wrote that the messaging system wasn't through the whispering chat in minecraft but "paging" and I liked that context

damn, when I have the energy again, I will complete the clothes, and Technoblade (he's been the hardest to create so far), but for now, have fun with my idea of MC in Help Me Understand.

“What exactly are we doing out here?” You questioned, staring at Technoblade as he jumped down from Carl. 

You had jumped down after Technoblade reined Carl to a halt and told you to get down.

“I’m meeting up with someone,” Technoblade nonchalantly responds, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against Carl, and looking around, looking for the “someone”.

“Why am I here?”

“Because you’re not leaving my sight, remember?”

You did.

That morning, you were startled awake from Technoblade climbing down his ladder, already in his normal attire; white button-up shirt, the collar not fully closed, brown braies with matching brown hose underneath, his classic red cape, and a belt holding his infinity-pouch and weapons.

“Up early. Good,” he commented, walking around the couch, and you watched him as you sat up as he opened the fridge again, throwing you another apple, and you ate in silence.

“Ok, there are some rules you’ll need to follow as long as you stay here.” Technoblade stated, staring blankly at you.

Straight-to-the-point-Blade everyone. You thought, snapping your eyes to Technoblade mid-bite.

“Ok,” you swallowed before responding. 

“You’re not going to leave my sights unless you’re 1; changing, or 2; using the bathroom. You’re not leaving this plot of land unless I’m with you. Because you're on my land, whatever I ask from you, you do it without complaint or questions. 

“And your wings? Hidden unless you’re inside. I don’t want whoever was after you to get wind of you being here.

“Got it?” Technoblade asked, raising an eyebrow while staring you down.

Fuck, why so strict? It’s not my fault I managed to find your land, or how mean you really are, you thought internally, rolling your eyes imaginarily. 

“Yup.”

“Good. Now let’s go.” Technoblade walked past you, completely ignoring that you weren't done with your apple and opened the door.

That was why you were out in the middle of nowhere, somewhere out south-east, Technoblade telling you nothing as to why he’s meeting up with someone, or who the someone was.

Was he secretly going to hand you over to anyone who would kill you? Or maybe his enemy, who you still had no idea who it was? Why had he been so hasty over leaving?

Your thoughts were interrupted when another horse trotted towards them, breaking from a forest. It was another woman, with hair as black as the night sky, with some blonde strands near her face. Her horse was a thin, black-and-white spotted horse, its mane matching the woman's hair color. 

When Technoblade noticed her, he pushed off Carl and headed the woman's way. The said woman halted her horse and jumped off, her dress skirt falling into place.

“Niki,” Technoblade calls out, giving a light smile at the woman; Niki.

“Technoblade,” she responds, but not looking at the piglin. Instead, she was staring you down, making you shift from hip to hip.

“Who’s this?” Niki asks, cutting off Technoblade from talking, and turning his head to glance at you.

Technoblade said your name shortly. “Y/N, Niki. Niki, Y/N.” Technoblade moved his hand from one woman to the other with each name.

“Nice to meet you,” you awkwardly greeted, waving to Niki from behind Technoblade. 

“So that's why you wanted me to bring some… hygienic stuff,” Niki chuckles, shaking her head at the situation. “Finally got a girlfriend and can’t get anything for her.”

“Not my girlfriend!” Technoblade raised his voice, said voice cracking at the word “girlfriend”. Your face lit up red at the accusation, because let’s be honest, that doesn’t sound so bad, you thought, face burning more red at the thought.

“Oh. So let me guess; she just so happened to stumble upon your secret house, that only Phil knows about, in the middle of the night, when you were, oh I don’t know, making baked potatoes?”

The silence that immediately followed made Niki’s eyes practically bulge out of their sockets.

“No, you’re lying.” Niki’s head flicked between you two like she was watching a tennis match. Technoblade didn’t look away. 

But you did. You flushfully looked off in the distance, away from Niki’s shocked gaze and Technoblade’s unamused look.

“Why?” Niki pressed. “How!”

“She was being chased by mobs. Fell jumping the fence. Broke her wrist. I threw her inside so she wouldn’t die.” Technoblade explained with zero emotions behind his words, and like he was talking about the weather.

Niki stared at him.

“You threw her?” Niki was starting to feel like she had somehow jumped to a different reality and this whole conversation was a spec on a bigger piece of bread.

“It was efficient.” Technoblade retorted.

“How’d she even get close to your place with nothing?” Niki once again pressed, this time she crossed her arms with sass.

“Classified. Next question.”

Niki was stunned at the blunt answer Technoblade gave her. It took her a second to process what “next question” she had.

“Okay. That explains the secrecy.” Inevitably, she just shook her head and looked back towards you. “It’s nice to meet you. I promise I’m not here to interrogate you.”

You looked at Niki. “That’s… good. Because I’d cry.”

“Deal,” Niki giggles. She reached into one of her saddlebags and pulled out a neatly bundled cloth sack, holding it out to you.

“I brought… necessities,” she said carefully. “Things you might need. Stuff Techno very clearly does not own.”

Technoblade crossed his arms. “I have plenty of things.”

“None of which are pads,” Niki shot back teasingly.

You blinked owlishly. 

“Oh.”

Oh.

Your face went nuclear.

“Oh Notch.”

You practically snatched the sack like you were Swiper from Dora. “Thank you,” you said quickly, yet bashfully. “I—I didn’t even think about that.”

Niki gave a confused look at your comment, but decided not to ask why you wouldn’t think about normal monthly visits.

Instead, Niki leaned closer to you, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “There’s also shampoo, conditioner, soap, and something that smells like berries instead of… whatever this guy uses.”

“I smell wonderful, I’ll have you know,” Technoblade replied defensively.

You snorted before you could stop yourself.

Niki grinned playfully. 

“When was the last time you bathed?”

“What’s a bath?”

Niki and you burst out laughing, even Carl snorted like he was laughing.

“What? Was it something I said?” Technoblade asked, playing dumb.

“Does your place even have a bath?” Niki giggled, and you laughed harder.

“The Blade doesn’t have time for baths!”

“Oh you poor soul,” Niki told you. “If you need anything else, even a nice, hot bath, you tell me. Don’t rely on him.” Niki loudly whispered between laughs.

You nodded quickly. “Deal.”

Technoblade muttered, “Traitors. Both of you.”

Niki wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, still smiling. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop bullying him… for now.”

“You will not,” Technoblade replied immediately.

She ignored him and turned fully to you, her tone softening in a way that made you think of a mother hen. “Seriously though. If you need more,” she gestured vaguely at the sack, “or you just have questions, you can page me. Anytime. No judgment.”

“Page?” You tilted your head in confusion.

Niki chuckled at your cluelessness.

“Message me,” she explained before she turned towards Technoblade once more, “You get her a pager soon, and give her my number.”

Technoblade raised his hands in mock defense, and Niki rolled her eyes.

“For now, have him message me if you need more or have any questions.”

“Thank you,” you responded quietly, earnestly. “Really.”

Niki nodded once, like it mattered. Then her gaze flicked to your wrist, still wrapped. 

“How bad does it hurt?”

“Oh. Not too bad,” you admitted. “Better than two days ago.”

“That’s good,” Niki said. “Eat some more, and before you know, the pain’ll be gone.”

Technoblade scoffed. “I told her that.”

Niki rolled her eyes so hard you thought they might get stuck. “You’re lucky she didn’t get worse under your care.”

“I kept her alive,” Technoblade said flatly. “That’s the goal.”

You blinked, then muttered, “That bar is at bedrock.”

Technoblade paused.

Then, slowly, he turned his head to look at you.

“You’re learning,” he said, almost approving.

Niki laughed again. “Oh no. You’ve corrupted her already.”

“She corrupted herself,” Technoblade replied. “I just provided the environment.”

Niki patted your shoulder before walking back towards her horse, swinging onto its back, and adjusting the reins. 

“I should head back before the others realize I’m gone. But,” she pointed at you, “if you need anything else, you tell him to page me. Or just come to New L’manberg. I’ll know.”

“That she won’t be doing. I’ll just page you if she needs anything else.”

Niki rolled her eyes once more before shrugging her shoulders. She looked at Technoblade one last time, her expression shifting just enough to mean something more serious. “You’re doing… fine,” she said carefully. “Just– don’t be an idiot.”

He snorted. “I’m not an idiot.”

With that, Niki nudged her horse forward, trotting back toward the tree line. She lifted a hand in farewell, then disappeared into the forest like she’d never been there at all.

Silence settled in her wake, broken only by the wind and Carl shifting his weight.

You exhaled slowly. “She’s… nice.”

“She is,” Technoblade agreed, mounting Carl. He glanced down at you. “You good?”

You nodded, clutching the sack to your chest. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he said, offering a hand up. “Let’s go home before you find something else to almost die from.”

You took his hand. “Wow. You do care.”

“Don’t push it.”

The ride back was… uneventful. You rode sideways like the day before, with Technoblade’s arm keeping you steady, but you were starting to get used to the motion.

There was no conversation on the way back, though. No crows came since yesterday. Even the forest was quiet on your way back; no whistling wind, no trees shaking, or snow falling from lack of wind.

You were confused as to why, and when you got a glimpse of Technoblade — acting like you were taking in the scenery — he didn’t look bothered at all.

And so many questions were running through your mind.

Why had Niki told me to eat more when talking about my wrist? Did Techno mean to call his cabin our home? Was he only saying it because it's his home? Why had he been so friendly but so cold the moment Niki offered me to visit? I know I lied about staying in L’manberg, but why had he been so rude to Niki?

The most burning question; Had he found out I was lying? I’m certain Niki lives in L’manberg, but this was our first time meeting, and it showed.

The wind started to pick up, and you couldn’t help but start itching your legs through your dress skirt, and your eyes couldn’t settle on one thing, darting between trees, looking to the sky, watching your finger itch the fabric.

“Stop looking around.” Came Technoblades monotone voice, breaking you from your thoughts.

“What? Why?” you asked, this time taking your time in slowly looking around.

“There are some left over endermen. Stop looking.” He demanded.

Your eyes froze on a tree in the distance, and a tall, black, creature was just to the left of it. It was common knowledge to not look at endermen or they’ll attack, but you couldn’t stop yourself from accidentally staring at it.

It looked like it did in the game; purple eyes, tall, lanky, and pitch black, perfect to blend into the night. But it stood out like a sore thumb in the white, wintery wonderland.

You watched for a whole second or two before Technoblade shoved your face into his chest.

“Are you stupid!” he harshly hissed. “Don’t look at it!”

“Sorry!” you mumbled, but it was muffled by your face being squished into his chest and the fabric. You could feel your heart starting to pick up from embarrassment or realization that they’ll get attacked by the enderman, you couldn’t tell which was the reason.

The enderman didn’t screech though, it didn’t teleport forward to attack, and Technoblade didn’t kick Carl into a canter to escape the mob.

However, that didn’t stop the enderman from teleporting nearby, it’s familiar fwoop as it teleported, and you felt Technoblade lean over with you to avoid looking at it. You did hear him curse, and carefully kicked Carl to go a little faster.

The sounds of the passive noise of the endermen faded as Carl led you away, and the wind started settling with the rhythm of your heartbeat, as if it was listening.

“We’re clear.” Technoblade let you go, but you still didn’t dare look around. Instead, you watched as you messed with your skirt.

“Don’t you know it’s common knowledge not to look endermen in the eyes? Or did you grow up under a rock?” Technoblade practically spit, and it startled you.

Fuck, is he always bi-polar? You woefully thought, still messing with your skirt.

“No. I didn’t mean to look at it,” you quietly replied.

You heard Technoblade sigh before speaking up, “You’re lucky you didn’t look directly at it, or else we would be in a different situation.”

“But–” you snapped your mouth closed, opting to not tell him you did, in fact, stare at the enderman.

But why hadn’t it attacked?

braies are like shorts, but more like underpants/breeches, during medieval times, and if you didn't know, it was common for men to wear hoses (basically stockings) and the braies together, and I like the look of it and think that technoblade would wear something like that (since his legs are like Mr. tumnus from "the lion, the witch, and the wordrobe) to be comfortable. this has been historical facts with annony

Honestly, I hope I did Technoblade's reaction justice in this chapter, I feel like I half-assed this but also not at the same time.

A soft chime from outside over rules all the noise inside, and you flinch at the ring of the bell, but Technoblade didn’t.

“It’s noon. I got to buy some more stuff before nightfall, but I don’t really want you roaming in the snow with just a blanket,” Technoblade cuts himself off, an idea popping in his head. “Actually, let’s go.”

Technoblade leaves a few emeralds on the table for the villager, and pulls your chair out, offering you his hand, way more eager than your conversation before. You take his hand and stand up, following as he leads you to the tavern doors. Before he opens the door, Technoblade takes the blanket, and throws his red cape over your shoulders.

“Techno?” You question, stunned at his action.

“Cold doesn’t affect me, remember? This way I can get what I need, get your clothes and get back to the cabin before nightfall.” Technoblade said it so matter-of-factly like he solved world hunger. 

“Alright,” you give up, reaching for the door before Technoblade swats your hand away. He says nothing as he opens the door and lets you exit first. 

At first, the cold hits you face, but with the overwhelmingly large, red cape engulfing you, you don't feel the cold rush under the cape and through your unfitting clothes. 

“I look like a vampire who doesn’t know his own size,” You complain, grabbing at the cape and lifting it up off the ground like a princess dress. 

“Nahh, you're just short,” Technoblade teases, steering towards the weapons smith, you following.

“Short? I’m not short! You’re a giant hulk of pink fur!” You bite back, walking with the cape like a ball gown.

“Who doesn’t get cold,” Technoblade sing-songs, taking longer strides to prove his point. 

“Stop that! I’ll have you know I’m considered tall from where I’m from!”

“Oh boy, can’t imagine how short the others are.”

“I will climb you,” You threaten.

“That is such a short person response!” Technoblade chuckles.

“Uhm, how can I help you today?” The weaponsmith asked when you guys got closer, watching you banter with Technoblade. 

“How much for a diamond sword?” Technoblade answers, digging into his seemingly-never-ending pouch of emeralds.

“Oh, 28 emeralds. 34 for an enchanted one,” the villager tried upselling. You internally laughed at the poor effort of the upsell. 

Technoblade would never buy an enchanted sword—

“What enchantments?”

Technoblade, be for fucking real.

“Sharpness four and Unbreaking one.” The weaponsmith looks proud. 

“Sure.”

Technoblade?! Your eyes practically bulge out in disbelief. The weaponsmith took the emeralds, and safely handed him the glistening, diamond sword. Technoblade weighed it like it wasn’t real and then sheathed it away on his belt, next to his netherite sword and axe. 

Technoblade leads you away, and when you were far enough, you whisper-shouted, “An enchanted diamond sword! For 34 emeralds! Are you insane, you could’ve gone cheaper and enchanted it later!”

“Getting experience and having the chance of Sharp IV is too much hassle. I’d rather spend the emeralds than do the grind,” Technoblade shrugged, walking up to a farmer. 

He asked the same question, and Technoblade asked if he had any apples or potatoes to sell. Of course the farmer did, and Technoblade spent another 24 emeralds for 48 apples — why so many — and 36 potatoes — again, why so many!

“How many emeralds do you have!” You whisper-screech when he tucks the bulk of apples and potatoes into the same pouch he keeps fishing emeralds from. 

How was it not spilling over!

Is he Nanny McPhee!

“A lot,” Technoblade emphasized, refusing to elaborate.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve spent more than 64 emeralds in the last 2 hours,” you hiss. “A quarter of which were for my clothes.”

“Clothes are important.”

“Not that important!”

“Living in the tundra? I think they’re pretty important.”

You threw your arms up in defeat, and surprisingly, your wrist didn’t hurt as much as it did earlier that morning. 

Huh. Wonder why.

Maybe Technoblade has a secret healing ability. You internally joke. 

You guys continue to two other shops; a butcher — when asked which meats you eat, you deny pork, a habit you picked up in game after Technoblade’s death — and a cleric — to get 12 enchantment bottles for 12 emeralds. 

In totally; he spent a stack and 34 emeralds in 4 hours!

The sun started to glare over the horizon by the time the tailor fetched you, having finished your clothes at the perfect time.  

The tailor ushers you toward the changing partition when you and Technoblade walk into the shop, practically buzzing with pride. Technoblade leans against the nearest wall like he was preparing to be disappointed by cloth.

Behind the curtain, you were handed the first outfit: thick, insulated pantyhose — surprisingly soft — and a long-sleeve, medieval-style winter dress dyed a rich emerald green. The skirt fell just above your ankles so you wouldn’t trip, and the sleeves ended in elegant tapered cuffs.

You strip yourself of your old clothes, slip into the outfit — the tailor even included small, yet big enough, slits in your shirt for your wings to slip through — tie your boots up, and step out.

Technoblade takes one look and absolutely short-circuited.

“You… bought a dress,” he said, voice flat, as if a fashion crime scene was unfolding before his eyes.

You blink. 

“I like dresses?” You ask like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Shouldn’t you have asked for– oh I don’t know– pants? Something you can fight in?” He gestures at you like you had presented yourself for war in ball attire. “How are you supposed to fight in a dress?”

You square your shoulders, scoffing.

“I’ve climbed trees in a dress. This is nothing.”

Technoblade just stared at you, having nothing more to say. 

Except for an, “Unbelievable,” under his breath. 

The tailor snorts behind a polite hand, then passes you more pieces to try: a few more dresses, long skirts with sturdy hems for ease of movement, several long-sleeve tops with slits in the back — some even with high collars to keep the tundra winds off your neck. One particularly pretty piece: a decorative under-the-bust corset with snow-thread embroidery. 

“For outfits that deserve flair,” the tailor said, “free of charge for my first winged hybrid in a very long time.”

“You’re enabling her,” Technoblade informed the tailor.

“A woman deserves fashion,” she replied cheerfully.

The tailor folds everything: ten sets of clothes — a mix of different dresses, winter-attire shirts, and skirts thick enough to prevent frostbite — gloves, scarves, the promised cape of your own — specially designed to keep your wings warm but part when you need them — and stores them in a large paper bag.

The tailor also included a neatly-folded bundle of undergarments: three additional pairs of insulated pantyhose, and ten soft sets of matching bras and underwear meant to hide what shouldn’t be seen. “Included with the price,” she chirped knowingly.

Eventually, you and Technoblade leave the tailor's shop, waving goodbye gleefully — still in the same shirt and dress you tried on earlier — your cape completely hiding your wings, but tailored to your size and height — completed with your favorite color. The cold didn’t affect you now.

“Come back soon!” The tailor waves as you walk towards Carl. 

“Of course!” You shout back from a distance. Technoblade rolls his eyes while letting out a groan.

“Next time, you’ll purchase your clothes — see how expensive it is with your own currency.”

“Oh you won’t see the doorway with how much I’m going to buy,” You tease, waiting patiently as Technoblade unties Carl from the post. 

You went to vault Carl like you were once taught, but failed to realize; your dress wouldn’t let you straddle Carl like normal. 

“Regretting picking a dress now, huh?” Technoblade mocked. 

“Never. I just— never sidesaddled a horse before,” You sheepishly explain, stepping down from Carl’s stirrup. 

Technoblade chuckled, shaking his head before vaulting onto Carl first.

“It’s in the name, Princess Face-Planter. I’ll help you up — just turn your back to him and jump up.” He offered his hand, steady and sure.

You accepted it, gathering your skirt just enough to free your legs. You hopped up, back toward Carl, and settled neatly across the saddle with both legs draped over one side, surprisingly smooth for your first try.

“It’s— a little uhm, weird.”

“It is at first, yes. But get used to it because you chose a dress!”

“Next time I’ll ask for a split,” you pout, clearly unaware of the mistake you made when asking for dresses and skirts.

Technoblade snorts and ushers Carl with his heel, the steed trotting as Technoblade guides him back towards the cabin.

“It’s a little later than I wanted to leave, so let’s hope we can make it to the cabin in time,” Technoblade sucks in a breath through his teeth and tusks. 

“Not if we trot,” you point out, cranking your neck to the side to look at Technoblade.

“I don’t know,” he hums.

“You’ve never ridden side-saddled before. Trotting’s one thing — galloping like that is… a good way to fall on your ass when you’re inexperienced.”

“Would you rather deal with mobs?”

Technoblade sighs. “Not really.”

“So let’s gallop, I think Carl can take it, considering he barely broke a sweat earlier.”

The sun started to slowly set, but at this pace, you guys would still be out by the time early night hits before you even reach Technoblade’s cabin. 

Technoblade clicks his tongue, eyes narrowing with the kind of calculation he usually reserves for battle strategy. He sighs like a man accepting his fate.

“Alright,” he says finally, “but you’re going to hold on. Tight. Side-saddling feels stable until the horse actually moves.”

You open your mouth to argue — obviously you know how to hold on — but the moment you shift, your hips slide to one side and you nearly lose your balance before he even nudges Carl to gallop.

Technoblade shoots you a flat look. “Yeah. Exactly.”

He adjusts your position, swinging one arm across the front of you to reach for the reins. The motion pulls you securely against him — basically flushed against him. You could feel you face heat up at the feeling of his body, his Piglin bloodline warming you up almost instantly.

“You keep your knees together and as close to his body as possible,” he instructs. “If Carl lunges or turns, don’t fight it. Just move with him with your hips.”

You nod into his chest.

Technoblade leans forward slightly — Carl responds immediately, bunching his muscles underneath you.

“This is going to feel very different than last time,” he warns, his chest rumbling in your ear from talking. “Do not let go.”

Before you can say “I’ve got this”, Technoblade kicks Carl into a gallop.

The world tilts.

Your weight swings outward — the lack of a leg on the other side nearly throws you right off. A startled gasp rips out of you, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his torso — you couldn’t touch your hands together around his back — like he’s the only thing keeping you alive — because suddenly, he is.

Technoblade reacts instantly, tucking his left arm close to his body, keeping you pinned against his chest while he steers with both hands. Your side-saddle balance finally syncs with Carl’s gallop — your hips rocking left and right with each powerful surge of Carl’s gallop while you cling tighter, moving with Carl instead of against Technoblade.

You don't dare move your head to watch the forest go by in fear of falling off — but also from embarrassment of how giddy you feel basically hugging Technoblade. Rocking on Carl to properly keep yourself steady and uninjured with Technoblade feels weird, but if he doesn’t seem weirded by it, then you’ll keep those unholy thoughts to yourself.

You did eventually open your eyes to slightly peek out your burrowing head from his chest to check how much daylight you two have left. The sun had gone down faster than you’d realized, and dread started seeping in your bones. 

“Will we make it to the cabin in time?” You shout over Carl’s panting and the wind rushing by. 

“Yes!” You hear him shout from his chest, amazed he could hear you. 

Relief eases your worries a bit. 

Especially when the trees thinned and the lights around the cabin shone through the darkness from the corner of your eye. Sighing, you relaxed into Technoblade’s chest a little more, and the mobs started spawning just as he eased Carl into a trot.

Technoblade tapped you to let him go, and you did, grabbing the horn with one hand and resting your injured hand in your lap. Technoblade swung off Carl, opening the gate and guiding both you and Carl inside the safety of his land and towards Carl’s pen. 

As Technoblade fed Carl carrots, you slipped off and smoothed out the skirt of your dress. You stood there awkwardly as Technoblade continued feeding Carl some carrots. He didn’t look towards you when he spoke up.

“Go on, say ‘thank you’ to Carl,” he blatantly told you, and you twitched your head in confusion.

“Thank… the horse?”

“Carl. And yes.”

“Yes, I know his name’s Carl, but like– why?” you tilted your head while raising a brow.

“He gave you a ride so your legs wouldn’t freeze off, and I think it’s the least you can do after you insulted him earlier,” Technoblade replied flatly, glancing at you with a knowing look.

Was it really a knowing look if you didn’t know what he meant behind it?

“Uh– Thank,” you cleared your throat to push past your confusion — and slight uncomfortability. “Thank you, Carl.”

Technoblade seemed to take your gratuity, before answering, “Go on inside, I’ll be there shortly,” and you are already turning on your heel before he can even finish.

The warmth inside the cabin never seemed to have diminished since the morning, and you couldn’t help but wonder if there was some Minecraft logic overruling logic. 

Like the lanterns. They still burn even without the oil necessary to keep it burning. 

Or how the cabin was still warm throughout the day when the fire probably went out by midday. There was no hint of insulation around the cabin. 

Or the fridge. How the hell did Minecraft have fridges without electricity? How did he even craft it to begin with? 

The concept of things running like it’s normal makes you dizzy. 

“Think outside the box, now,” you whispered as you stepped in, taking your boots off. Slugging off your new cape, shuttered at the slight chill on your wings— Notch you’s really got to get used to them. Hanging the cape on the hook next to the door — opposite of where the ladder leads up — you head towards the couch, plopping face first into it. 

The door opened and you assumed it was Technoblade. You were right as he grumbled at you. 

“Could’ve kicked the snow off your shoes before entering.”

You thought for a second. This isn’t your own place anymore, you're a guest now — or maybe prisoner? — regardless, you definitely have to treat Technoblade’s cabin with a little bit more respect than your own. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled into the couch, twisting your head to look at the Piglin. 

He had slugged his cape off, hanging it on the hook over your own cape, and kicked his boots off. His hooves thudded on the wooden floor as he walked around you, and once again lit the fire with flint and steel. 

Once he was done and the fire had started, he made his way to the small kitchen, opened the fridge, stuffed all the apples and potatoes into it, then closed the door. When he turned back around, he was holding an apple, and a baked potato. 

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Food.” He noticed your look, and stated it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

It was.

“I see that. Am I going to eat both? Is that why you’re holding both?” you chuckled slightly at the obvious fact. 

“Just the apple. Your stomach might get upset from eating a fruit, which is mostly acid, and a potato, which is a starch. Neither work together.” Technoblade handed you the apple as he explained, biting into the potato once you had the apple in your hand.

“How do you know this information!” you laughed.

“Doesn’t take a genius to know,” Technoblade paused. “I might or might not have experience.”

“Technoblade!” you threw your head back as you laughed a little louder.

“I said maybe!” He defensively shot you.

“Well, from where I come from, this is considered a healthy, balanced, dinner.”

“Ha ha,” Technoblade mockingly laughed. “Don’t get used to it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Technoblade quickly responded — too quickly — taking another bite of his potato.

You took a cautious bite of the apple. You hadn’t realized how delicious Minecraft apples were. The perfect mix of juicy, sweet, and cold crisp with each bite. Enough to have you roll your eyes closed in delight.

For a few minutes, the only sounds were them chewing, the low crackle of the fire, and the wind whistling as it brushed against the cabin exterior walls.

“For a terrifying anarchist,” you began quietly after swallowing a bite from your apple, breaking the silence. “You built a nice place.”

Technoblade huffed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You smiled into your apple.

You finished the apple slower than you meant to, savoring it until there was nothing left but the core. When it was just the core, Technoblade offered his hand to toss the core. As he walked towards a barrel — more like a composting bin you just noticed — you felt your shoulders sag and your eyelids drooping, the tension of the day catching up to you all at once.

Technoblade noticed. 

Of course he did — he was built to observe.

“You’re tired,” he said, tone flat but observant.

“Am not,” you replied automatically, even as you yawned hard enough to make your eyes water.

“Riveting argument.”

You huffed, but ultimately, he was right, as you felt like falling asleep sitting up. Instead, though, you laid on your stomach and felt your wings — were you controlling them now? — extend to each side of the couch, just like the night before. You tucked your hands under the couch pillow, your wrist only dully throbbing, but you didn’t care to think as to why it didn’t hurt as much as it did that morning.

Technoblade moved around the cabin, quieter now. He checked the door latch, glanced out the window once. The fire popped gently, sending sparks up the chimney, continuing to lull you deeper to unconsciousness.

Technoblade said nothing as he walked past the couch and to the ladder.

“Goodnight, Technoblade,” you mumbled sleepily.

You were out before you heard him whisper a goodnight back, and the creak of the ladder as he ascended to his room. 

By the time Technoblade had closed the trap door above the ladder, and the cabin settled, your breathing had evened out, slow and steady.