𝗜𝗫 - misconception

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Some had the misconception that immortals did not have feelings, as if it was ripped out along with death. And surely, of course, they were wrong.

The days following battle was dull.

Everything felt dull.

Why wouldn't it feel dull?

Thousands dead at their wake. Lists of unrecognisable names written into an announcement sheet, soon to announce the confirmed death of a daughter, son, mother or father.

Where grief-stricken shrills would empacipate from hearts ripped into shreds by their very fingers—and so on so forth.

Technoblade's voices were overpowering the previous night, almost as if they thrive on bloodshed, like they ravaged through it to feed their needs. As if that was what kept them alive, kept them breathing—kept them sane.

Eventually he was found, eyes bleak, fingers which were bloodstained no less than 24-hours ago wrapped around an arm rest.

She at the door

Braying Laughter filled her ears, although Technoblade's mouth stayed shut, the voices started again, an ensemble of crooked laughs, thoroughly dipping into the darkest corners of her mind, emphasising the capacity of his—where it was too much to bare.

And a cursed pointed rock crashed into the last weak layer of his glass-thin mind.

Burly knees that embrace the largest jumps buckled under mental words, eyesight spinning into an undying mist, everything became blurry, or maybe it was his eyes.

They prevail, the entourage prevailed, pressuring  and spinning him into a pathetic ball on the floor, hands engraved into his hair as if sheltering his head from a cascade of rocks. Squeezing his head hard enough to pressure his brain out.

       "Stop." He whispered hoarsely, like every breath strangled his lungs, and he pleaded as the panic seeped in, and he pleaded and begged as he felt as if he was trapped. And he was trapped

It was almost humorous that the one and only thing that could make Technoblade collapse—cascade into a symphony of pleads—was himself, his own little filthy voice that spoke opinion when they deemed necessary.

They were never necessary.

The beseeched Technoblade's breathing became panicked, fingernails engraving dips in his flesh, drawing fresh blood, the one time he pulled blood when the voices didn't ask for it, eyes squeezing shut as if he were to open them again they would never cease.

His body trembled as unstable as tectonic plates.

At this moment, she could mistake this immortal for a puny child, a child who was scared of what the darkness held within, shading itself it any way it deemed fit.

And almost collapsing in the same way he did, he could've been mistaken for a lunatic, full body trembling unable to stop. Hands shifting it's forceful grip from his ears to his hair, pulling his pink locks out in tuffs.

Dropping herself down to her knees in panic,the sting but ignored it down to the same level, he doesn't even notice she's in front of him, her eyes wide searching . Almost like he was in a bubble, mist engulfed, unable able to peer out, or in this case escape.

She held firm grips on both wrists, an attempt in stopping his hands from scarring his face, where blood was already drawn. He'd given in to her hands weakly, his hand limp within her grasp, still whispering pleads and mutters carelessly into the air.

       "Hey!" She shook him violently, an attempt to snap him out. "Techno!" She shook him again like they wanted the living daylights to fly out.

Maybe it was the name, maybe it was her actions, but his eyes slid to hers, vulnerable laced on his irises, eyes glazed with pain. Within his eyes held a hurricane.

Taunts venturing into the parts of his mind, the dark corners that not even Technoblade himself would dare surpass. It was horribly worse for him, for him these string of words we're personal, distinctive digs at dead and buried action, strayed thoughts and patterns he'd once followed.

Then she comforts him in the only way she could, physical contact, trying to deny in admiting how terrified she was for him.

Their bond was odd, but in the moment, panic wormed in through. Ever since that night she trained herself to never portray raw emotion, if an outsider seen her, she would've been perceived as content, maybe passed by the collapsed trembling boy.

And her hands wrapped around the boy, just so he knew, just so he could feel presence, that he wasn't alone.

She reassured, rubbing circles on his back. His face hidden in the crook of her neck, his own arms shaking so hard they might as-well be vibrating. Her nerves were raising. No indication in how long it lasted, no antidote or way to silence them. They, brimming her head with vile actions that constructed her stomach to toss in its pits.

       "Ne vous inquiétez pas." Maybe a change in language would work into his hearing, and her thought was correct, although not magnificent, his eyes flirted up to her, blurry and weeping.

"Hey." She urged, adjusting a live of hair from his face. "Don't treat your thoughts like hostages, they're you aren't they?" He gave a half smile. "And you are amazing. You're a weapon Technoblade. And weapons don't weep."

And his breathing was heavy, and oh god was he terrified as he clutched onto her like a bird with claws. And her injury did sting, but she didn't care.

"Neon honjaga aniya." Eun comforted with trembling fingers. And how she wished he could understand, because maybe if his ears were delectable, in his delicate state, maybe, just maybe he would finally realise, that she didn't exactly want him to be alone. Not like this.

The smell of food lingered in the air from previous meal. Once Technoblade had gained control, which was a while, because now the birds were singing a pitchy tune, and the mood couldn't handle the rising sun.

Eun stepped up and prepeared something tangible.

And after that she returned to the bed that waited in for her comfort in the corner every night.

He would've went unnoticed, only if she didn't measure his in skill, her actions briefly stopped before continuing, speaking without turning her head. A shit attempt at playing back to their old sarcastic banter. "Do you need something?"

The silence was well expected but held longer than meant, she'd half expected a pathetic attempt of a joke, stemming from his dry humour, half expecting a dry answer.

Spinning around she caught how clouded his eyes were, she could already hear the words flick off his tongue, so she decided to his derail his embarrassment originating from his ego.
       "Want me to stay?"

And if actions could speak, his meek nod would've been a begging human, decrypt of physical affection, just someone who needed someone.

And that someone was Eun.

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so sorry for not updating in a while so here's a double <33 Thank you for waiting so long. Hope you're all taking care of yourselves.

Also, if you really are bored, i do have a playlist that goes with most chapters, and you could try out the soundtrack to the chapters, if you'd like, and report back.

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