Things That Need To Pass (passerine!Technoblade x OC) {COMPLETED}

Just Me And You...One More Time..

For the levity that had started to chase away the more exhausting thoughts.

(Eryn POV)

I was sipping tea in the library when...well, speak of the devil, the mighty Blood God himself. He entered, carrying an identical cup of tea, seating himself next to me. I smiled a bit remembering yesterday...

(flashback in Wilby's POV)

I cracked one eye open and found Technoblade staring at me again, with that all-too-serious look.

"What?" I asked. "Can't a man be glad that he's not getting tossed around for one morning?"

Technoblade scoffed. "Don't discredit my teaching skills like that. You've been getting tossed around less and less these days."

"Was that meant to be a compliment?"

"None of my compliments will ever be meant. They will be passive-aggressive, at best. Openly hostile, at worst."

"Oh, of course, we have to pry positive affirmation from your cold dead hands, is that it?"

"Only way you'll earn it," Technoblade confirmed.

They went silent as another breeze blew past them, blowing Technoblade's unbound hair across his face.

Then, before I could think twice about it, he said, "What did you mean, before, when you told Father our tutoring sessions were a distraction? A distraction from what?"

Technoblade's expression darkened for a fraction of a second before he schooled it into careful neutrality. He shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, growing boy like you, you're meant to have hobbies beyond... whatever you were doing before."

"I read," I said. "And played music. That was a sufficient distraction, I think."

"Not according to Philza."

"Why do you talk like that, by the way?" I shifted to look Technoblade squarely in the eyes. "You call the king Philza, which I can excuse because you're... well, you. But Father also calls you an old friend, and I've asked Mother—because Father tells Mother everything—but she never heard of you before. And you all these things about weapons and warfare. Far too much."

"You're from a kingdom that has enjoyed peace for decades, princeling," Technoblade said, with a world's worth of exhaustion in his voice. "Beyond those walls, it's different. Knowing war young is not entirely uncommon. Kids just grow faster out there. They have to."

I took fistfuls of grass and threw it at Technoblade's face. Technoblade, unamused, simply blew the grass from his face.

"Very mature, Your Highness," Technoblade said dryly.

"You were being all sad again," I muttered, pulling my knees up to my chin. I looked up just as Tommy came toddling towards them, his arms a burst of color—yellow alstroemerias, white daisies, purple malvas, and freesias the color of Technoblade's hair.

"Oh, gods," Technoblade groaned as Tommy dumped his collection before them proudly.

Tommy grinned as he kneeled behind Technoblade. "Dad used to braid Mama's hair all the time, before she got tired. He taught me how."

Technoblade turned towards me. "Should I be worried?"

"Very," I said sagely. "At least he doesn't have scissors this time," I added, recalling a particularly incensed butler who'd foolishly offered himself to be Tommy's training dummy last year, and ended up with less hair than he bargained for.

Tommy turned Technoblade's head away from me. "Hold still!" he ordered, beginning to take handfuls of Technoblade's hair, tugging them into place.

"Ow!" Technoblade said after a particularly harsh pull.

"Sorry," Tommy said cheerfully, and began to braid in earnest.

I sat back and watched them in silence, my ferocious tutor and my even more ferocious younger brother. The sunlight seemed to catch in the tangles of Tommy's hair, making it shine like a golden halo. I had never seen anyone as focused as Tommy was in that moment, working through Technoblade's hair, pausing only to debate on what flowers should go where. And Technoblade, for his part, did not move at all, or let out so much as a word of complaint, even when Tommy took time to educate them all on what exactly each flower meant.

I could write a song about this, I mused, and then marveled at the thought. It was as if a block I'd been carrying for years lifted, and my art was now inches away from my hands, if only I'd brought his guitar with me today.

Tomorrow, I promised himself. I'll write our song tomorrow.

"There," Tommy said at last, tying the end of the braid off with the red ribbon Technoblade often used himself.

I blinked in surprise. "Tommy, that's... actually good. Really good."

Technoblade reached back and ran his hands delicately over the elegant braid and the flowers woven into it. He hummed appreciatively, then caught himself before he could fully smile. Because he was still Technoblade, after all.

"Decent," was his only comment.

"I'm not done yet!" Tommy said, and produced one more flower—a single yellow rose. "This one's my favorite," he added as he gently tucked the flower behind Technoblade's ear, the one that had the emerald earring that I had found so familiar, "because it means friendship."

Technoblade stiffened. His mouth opened and closed, like he was trying to breathe but forgot how, before he finally said, "Are we friends, then?"

Tommy stood and brushed grass from his pants. "Well, obviously."

"Obviously?" Techno asked skeptically.

(Flashback end)

I had chuckled at the sight. Techno was finally being recognized not as a murderer, but as a friend. To a young lad, no less. "I could see you liked being called a friend by a toddler, didn't you?" I teased. 

He rolled his eyes. "I guess. Maybe it's because other than you and Phil, nobody else has seen me as more than a God." he said softly. I got how he was feeling. I put my head on his shoulder, slowly falling asleep. 

(Techno POV)

Eryn is always so pretty when she sleeps, especially now, with the moonlight glittering off her light brown skin, and highlighting her auburn hair. I played with her hair for a while, before dozing off myself. Why does she make me feel this way?

a/n

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