🗝𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐚𝐠𝐞🪽 || Y!DSMP × Reader

"The black mold is your roomate. Unfortunally, it doesn't pay the rent."

"Well...uhm...how was the ride here?", spoke up your uncle Technoblade, waking you from your thoughtless daydream.

The social worker had left you shortly after having a brief talk with Technoblade. Now you both sat in the dimm living room, sharing a dislike for the awkward silence, but not suceeding at making a proper conversation.

"It was fine...a bit long, but yeah."

The man hummed and the silence set in anew. It was just the ticking of the clock somewhere in the room, and the occasional cough from either of you. Even if your family member seemed like a stranger to you, you had one thing in common: the lack of social skills. That seemed to run in the family.

Technoblade makes another attempt at it. "I'm sorry for your parents and what happened. With the whole-"

"The prison thing?", you cut him off. "Yeah, there's no need to apologize for my parents being assholes."

The man snorts, shifting to a more comfortable position in the seat next to you. "I wasn't. I'm just tryin' to show sympathie, kid. Lead a conversation, you know?" His tone, despite mostly staying overall monotone, had a hint of humour in it. So he seemed to have a sense of humour. Good to know.

"Mhm, I understand, yes. I admit it's just awkward to talk to you so casually, after not seeing you for ages. Not to mention the whole... moving in thing. No offense though or anything."

"Eh, it's fine. I haven't figured it all out myself either. And I get it, it doesn't match everyone's preferences", he says, motioning around the living room of the hut.The place was so different from your parents pristine and lifeless design style. It was rather dark and chaotic. Despite everything seemingly having it's own place, the odd choice of decor and the miss-matched furniture threw off all of the order. Well, maybe thst was the charm of it.

"You hungry?", asks Technoblade simply. You are about to decline out of habit, but stop to think about your stupid decisions you make daily,  as to not seem as a burden. You were actually starving and eating some more protein bars from your backpack, like you did all the while in the car seemed like an awful option. So you nod a bit hesitantly, which your uncle accepts.

"Okay, I'll go make us some potatoe stew.", he gets up from the seat, heading towards the kitchen, before turning around again briefly, to ask you,   "Do you want to go see your room meanwhile orr-?"

"I'll go upstairs. Unless you need any help...?" You question. It would be bad to leave bad impression on someone who was letting you stay in his house in the near future.

"Nah, thank's kid,  but you don't have to help if you don't want to. Go take a look at the room, unpack your stuff and do whatever else you need to. You can stay in the old guestroom, it's right on the left side of the hall, next to the bathroom. I'll start cooking in the meantime." He dissappears behind the doorway to  the kitchen and soon yo hear the clattering of pots and pans.

You take as a sign to go and get your stuff from the hallway. Heaving the two bags over your shoulder you walk up the short set of stairs, following the directions given to you. Finding the room wasn't all too hard, with only three doors being on the top floor.

the spruce door opens with a loud creak, revealing a small room, the size of your parent's closet. A weird smell greets you upon entering. It's a mix of damp air and laundry detergent. The interor of the room is held simple, with a singe bed, a one-door closet and a small desk at the window with tulle curtains. It's nothing fancy, but you weren't complaining. You may have had a considerably nicer room in your childhood home, but you weren't used to spoiling either, so it was fine.

You still had no idea how your life was gonna be from now on and you were completely lost in it, but it was fine, really.

...

You begin to unpack your things, looking for a way to make the best out of the place. You hang up your clothes, stash away your hobby equipment, you place your only remaining comfort items in the safest spots. You even go past your fearr of causing a fire hazard and plug in your phone with that worn-out cable of your's. With your stuff littered around the tiny space, you got a bit more hope of being able to call this house a home some day. Maybe you'll even stop minding the dark patch of mold in the corner, that no one seemed to suceed at removing for ages.

You're about to finish off the moving in, by stacking your books in the remaining closet space, when you find an interesting thing. A yellowed piece of paper sits neatly folded at the bottom of a drawer.

You knew not to touch other people's stuff without permission. Your parents made sure that you learned this lesson  early on , and remembered it for life by leaving a physical reminder, that taking money for a bus ride home was unforgivable, on your body.

You somehow still felt the scar on your arm sting each time you thought about 'stealing', but you were able to remind yourself again sometimes, that your parents were the one's in the wrong.

Taking a deep breath, you reasured your mind that your parents weren't here to control your life anymore and that not every adult would hurt you because of the tiniest slip-ups. Besides, you were just going to take a quick look an put it back without Technoblade even noticing. And so you let your natural curiousity win over and took the paper to inspect it.

Judging by the yellowing and ragged look, you deem the find as a very old one. Unfolding it carefully, you find a peculiar drawing before you. It takes you some time to figure out what it was supposed to be. It reminded you of the old art style of the medieval times. One of these flat drawings with weird proportions and creatures only witnessed in some riddiculous sleep paralyses.

Eventually you make it out as some sort of manly figure, with piercing yellow eyes, sharp claws and massive crow-like wings. He's flying in the red sky, swallowing up the sunlight with the garment of feathers, as dark as the night itself. Straining your two depressed brain cells, you read the fancy old lettering that says something like 'Beware the Angel of Death'.

  Interesting name, you think to yourself and observe what you assume, is a poster. The painter depicted the predator's gaze so well, if you looked at the mysterious creature long enough, it felt like it was going to jump right at you and claw out your very soul. The unmoving eyes that somehow never shifted their gaye from you, made a small shiver run down your spine.

Creepy. What the heck was Technoblade keeping in these drawers?

Was he a fan of collecting old, weird things? Or maybe the paper wasn't actually old at all, and the man had a hidden artistic hobby?

Whatever it was, you couldn't care about it all too much. Your empty stomach was pleeding for even just a bread crumb and a delicious smell of a potatoe dish rose up from the kitchen downstairs.

You exit the bedroom, leaving the winged monster in the shadows of the darkness.

A/N: Hello! Here is the second chapter, long past the planned upload date. School started again and I spent my free time obsessively playing Stardew Valley. I have zero regrets.
This chapter was more of a filler in my opinion, but I hope you still had a pleasent time reading it and stick around for the next part where the reader starts discovering more and more about the mysterious town they moved to.

Have a nice rest of the day!