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theeyoungalabastor · 2 years

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Technoblade and his Apprentice: The Shattered Totem- Kill or Be Killed (Part 1)

Part 1, Part 2

(Art by: Jammie on Twitter)

Where does this take place?: The Arctic Empire, New L'Manberg, The Greater SMP

What event takes place?: Technoblade's and (Y/n)'s execution

Character pairing: Piglin!Hybrid!Technoblade and Bear!Hybrid!Reader

Information on chatacter(s): Both hybrids have a human like form but when feeling threatened both are able to shift into a bigger more animal like form that will add onto both strength, agility, and height (height to look more intimidating)

WARNINGS: Blood, character death, descriptive but mild gore, angst, explosions, murder, manipulation, foul language, freezing,

Status: Platonic, Angst, Fluff, Familial (Technoblade sees reader as a sibling)

Pronouns: They/them

Word count: 7,306 (7K)

Page count: 21.4

Summary: Having been included with the aid of destroying L'Manberg with Technoblade both the Piglin man and dear reader soon become the main target for a certain quartet. Nailing wanted posters to the wooden poles around New L'Manberg the ensemble set off with the intent of having the duo pay for their crimes. Public Execution.

A disk spun on its needle, the haunting like melody soaking into the wallpaper that layered the drywall surrounding them. A fire cackled not far from their pawed feet, hot flames lapping away at the charred wood, it's fuel radiating just enough heat to warm the bear hybrids toes. Shadows dancing with each flicker of the orange blaze.

E/c eyes drifted to the compass that sat heavily in the palm of their hand, it's sheen surface shining with the loadstone enchant which only became more apparent with the fire's illuminance glinting faintly off of the glass surface, it's red pinpointing north.

Nervousness gnawed hungrily at the pit of your rather empty stomach as the thick skin of your thumb traced the letters dug into the cold iron back, careful not to damage the devices surface with your keen talons. Ever since The Blade himself handed you the device it had been clipped to your belt safely. Every so often you would spare a glance in hopes the pin would click, directing you towards your friend's new home.

At times you would stand timidly at the end of the dock where you last saw the other hybrid, where he told you he was going to retire from everything.

The conflict.

The government.

The violence...

"Y/n..." Technoblade stare at the sun that began to rise above the horizon as if it were to be his last, tired eyes tracing over the water line as the ball of flames arose giving birth to a new morning. His hair reeked of soot and gun powder from the recent events, here and there a patch of his roseate fur was littered in dark splotches from where clumps of dirt and gravel had landed during the nation's destruction done by the hands of its own founder. But the hybrid seemed to pay no mind to his tainted coat but more on the effervescent ball of flames that bathed the smoke-filled firmament in ravishing hues of orange and gold.

He lost the man he considered a brother. Wilbur. To his own father. Impaled through the chest by a glistening diamond sword, if Techno didn't know any better, he would have mistaken the glittering blade as the one that Tommy had gifted the winged man on their last Christmas together.

"Yes Techno?" Your voice was dry, hoarse even, noticeably wavering and damn near dead of all emotion, along with the dull sheen that glossed your e/c eyes. His ruby hues drifted to meet your own. Pain pooling deeply in those blood tinted orbs. Not only did The Blade lose a brother, but you had also lost something as well.

Your home.

And your friends.

You lost their trust the minute you turned to face the Piglin hybrid, hand held out demandingly as he had already placed two of those ebony skulls atop of the four blocks of inklike sand that wept, but their cries fell onto deaf ears as he afforded his gaze to your stony features. The third skull sat in his clammy palms, ready to slam onto the last block of soul sand; but he hesitated, looking down at your outstretched hand that itched to feel the smooth bone of the skull. Without a second glance, he placed it into the heel of your palm with a firm nod.

That is probably where the two made their mistakes.

"I think I'm going to retire." His words were stern but soft as he glanced at you almost as if you were a kicked puppy cowering with its tail between its legs. Your eyes remained on the still waters that skipped across the shoreline, the sound was painful reminder of what once was. "Where will you go? Will I see you again?"

Technoblade knew you didn't hold what happened against him, especially knowing his unexplainable hatred towards governments, I mean shit. Look what it's done. He lost his brother for God's sake, to the unquenchable thirst for power that he had at the tip of his fingers.

Techno shook his head, unsure. "I honestly don't know, wherever the wind takes me I guess." Digging a hand into one of his pockets the taller male ferreted around before fishing a handheld object from its depths. You watched with a quirked brow as the taller man held out a large hand, gesturing for you to take what sat in his grasp.

"For when things go south. Go north."

At first when Techno said those words, you didn't think he meant literally, but here you were, eyes glued to the red needle that pointed north. Ever since the day of Wilbur's passing you didn't intend on living in L'Manberg- or NEW L'Manberg that is- after Tubbo took the title of the shattered nations president you had turned away from that unfinished symphony. You now resided within the barrier of the Greater SMP, atop the hill of where a certain tumultuous British boy's home was dug into.

Some people blamed you for the way things went down, Technoblade unleashing the hellish three headed beasts with the help of your traitorous hands, the TNT that tore the nation's structure, sending everything skyward. They blamed you for helping the Pigman fight against the government that drove his brother to insanity. The Government that exiled its two original founders or the same one that drove the once great leader whose eyes shown with pride's son to destroy the very walls that were made to protect him.

You glanced towards the dingy window another content smile splayed at your thinly lined lips.

You remembered the time Technoblade- the man to who you looked up to with much pride- taught you how to correctly plant potatoes.

"No, you don't plant them like that, they'll grow wonky." Pulling the vegetable from its hole, the one that you nonchalantly dug and tossed it into. You looked at the taller man that towered over you with a deadpanned expression, the six-foot something man paid no attention to your bored expression. Reaching into his pant pocket the fucia haired man ferreted for a moment. "Why? This is just a waste of fucking time they're just potatoes, nothing to get fussy or even get excited over." You spoke with the roll of your eyes and a shrug before standing beside Technoblade, dusting your soil caked fingers against your filthen and slightly tattered pants, perfect for farming.

"Yes, they are just potatoes, but these potatoes' are what is going to fuel out battalion and keep our bodies from shutting down on themselves." Pulling a blade from his pocket the other dug its sharp edge into the middle of the vegetable and skillfully cutting it in half. Glancing at your curious figure his long tail snapped back and forth with entertainment. Just a moment ago you were groaning about how potatoes weren't much to be excited about and how planting them was a waste of time.

Extending his hand towards you he held the small handheld blade in his scarred clad hand. "Cut them in half, we need to ration as many as we can so there's enough for everyone." You glanced up at the older man with uncertainty glinting in your (e/c) hues, a brow quirked to add into your iffiness.

Chuckling softly Technoblade bounced his extended hand expectantly with a soft groan. "Are you gonna take it or not? I'm trying to do a whole bonding moment with my apprentice- and my arm is starting to ache." Now it was his turn to deadpan at your stiffened figure below him. Your round ears flickered as you jumped, fingers softly surrounded the blade, face bloomed with blushing embarrassment. Clutching the blades handle you glanced innocently up at the other, eyes glinting with questioning.

Crouching slightly beside you Technoblade placed a large hand atop of your shoulder, a finger directed to the bottom of the knife. "Use this part the knife, it divides the meat in the potato better, but when you plant it make sure the small roots here-" He let his acute nails poked at the white spikes that protruded from the plants skin. "-Plant that part in the soil, make sure the cut part is facing the surface so that when it grows the plant's stem can break the surface better." Nodding you watched intently as he explained.

"Alright." Reaching into the small potato bag that hung from your hip you pulled out another potato as Technoblade turned away from you to plant the potato that he took from your hole and planted both halves in his own dug holes before scrubbing his palms against the knees of his pants as he covered the crops.

You held the potato gently, eyeing it with a faint smile before digging the tip into the skin.

That was when the days were long and grueling but empty of most problems, the most you had witnessed within the walls of Pogtopia was Wilbur's constant and rabid mental decline that plummeted like a stone in water.

Blabbering about being the villain and that if he couldn't have L'Manberg, then no one can. And with that, it was blown into the sky with the help of two shape shifting hybrids.

You clutched the compass, pulling it to your chest. Not many ever forgave you for helping destroy the same thing that they were all fighting to protect, throwing all of their work down the drain like expensive wine. Sometimes it ate at the core of your brain, no matter how badly you wanted to apologize to the children that had to face the wrath of the man with big dark horns, or even witness the once lively leader loose his ever-living mind to the nagging voices and now a boy sent to exile by his own friend, the one who he saw as an actual brother.

Is this how Eret felt? When he expressed his remorse for the final control room?

Heaving a sigh your e/c eyes drifted out of the window as your mind settled on the boisterous blonde's home, one that use to bound pridefully down the prime path that just so coincidentally happened to lead up to his doorstep, chest puffed, and head held high. It was eerily quiet without his high-pitched laugh or passive aggressive threats. A spark of memory flashed through your mind as you recall a conversation with a certain winged man.

"That kid, I'm telling ya, he's given me more gray hairs than my own son." He chuckled humorously as he watched his adopted blonde son clash his skull against the firm horn of his friend. Crying out in pain before rubbing the soon to be bruised spot that blossomed due to their recklessness. Tubbo on the other hand, clutched his stomach that grew tense with laughter a few breathy taunts leaving his cavernous lips.

He spoke about how incredibly corrupt that government was, how it tossed the presidential titles around like it were a game of Ga-ga ball, and whose ever feet the ball just so happened to hit was the new ruler of the damned nation. The blonde man spoke of how that government drove his one and only son to dementedness and now cast the other aside, doomed to bare exile with the ghastly apparition of who once was. After your departure from L'Manberg, much like Technoblade, you gifted the two a compass that led to your home located just off the prime path, a way to locate you faster when needed.

A content but solemn smile tugged at the edges of your lips as you began to reminisce the better times, the times you were still considered a 'good person' but you too, had shoved the goads of violence to the back of your mind. Now, you did not have the voices that sang out in demand for blood, but you did have the invasive or intrusive thoughts that would dance around your mind like a ballet dancing the nutcracker. They were tempting, urging you to wrap your large palms around the throat of anyone who stepped foot on your doorstep, watch as their lively eyes glazed over with the thin sheet of death or maybe see your clawed fingers tainted with the said crimson whine.

This is what war does to a person.

No matter who they are.

A person could have the kindest heart and brightest eyes that one has ever seen before being tainted by the trauma of war that could make any man go berserk.

But it's not the memories that were left behind that made these impulses bubble to the surface, it was the blood that stained your tongue during it. Once an animals tongue collides with the copper relish of blood, it lingers like honey, like a craving even. And that is exactly what it was for you, a nagging craving that had turned sour as of the recent months. You blamed the damned hybrid side of you, the rabid bear.

The snap of the fire awoke your dazed figure back to reality as you glanced over, eyeing the glowing ember that sat on the waxed wood of your floor, with a groan you heaved yourself to your pawed feet before padding towards where the smoldering chunk of charred lumber lay, nonchalantly kicking it back into the hot pit to smolder into ash.

'Get ready my dearest friend they have bound my wings, they've found you.'

Gaze snapping to the communicator that sat atop the end table next to the hard leather cover of your recent read the screen illuminated. No one ever messaged you unless they wanted something from you, or it was an emergency.

Nimbly dancing around the furniture that littered your path, your large, clawed manus lifted the device to your line of sight. It was from Philza. The text a whispered message.

>(Y/n) whispered to Ph1lzA< What do you mean 'they've found you'? Who is it?

Panic slowly installed itself into the core of your stomach as the whisper sent, jumping around like an energetic puppy being taunted with an afternoon walk.

Who found you?

What did they want?

They bound his wings?

Did he mean Chat?

Seconds felt like eons as your (e/c) hues stare daggers into the electronic device. If looks could kill, that communicator would be fine ribbons.

>Ph1lzA whispered to you< The Buther army, they found your compasses. I don't have much longer for they are confiscating the communicator, be safe m8.

Shit.

The Buther Army, a battalion of men who seek vengeance on the ones who've wronged them, and it looks that you were one of the people at the top of that list.

Your rounded ear flicked as a stoic expression stoned your features into a thin but serious line. You needed to prepare.

Instantly your hands got to work, thumbing through the pages of your brewery book, collecting the needed supplies to whip up the potions you would undoubtably be needing to face multiple men alone. The house reeked of panic as your lip pulled into a focused snarl, revealing the sharp edges of your canines, jabbing the stick to your grinding bowl against the fragile blaze rod you spun the wand, crushing the rod into a fine powder to then be turned into strength potions.

Your dark tinted armor sat on a nearby armor stand prepared and enchanted, ready for usage, in the stands hand a glistening netherite sword that shone with enchantments, in the other a bow that too sang with advanced enchants. (Technobalde had helped you find the best enchantments and how to get them).

A nearby stand bubbled as the brewing came to a finish to which you swiftly slid into your hotbar, storing the rest in the slots of your inventory. Minutes turned to hours as your grueling work was done.

Fixing the strap of your armor your pawed feet slid into the metal of your boots that had been tailored by the great Puffy herself, lords bless that woman's soft soul. With the dusting of your shoulder to rid of the red stone dust, gun powder and blaze powder you were ready, body reverberating with fluctuating anxiety that gnawed at the core of your mind, clouding it with blurry cotton.

They were bound to approach you first since you were undoubtedly closer to the reconstructing nation built off of corruption and pain and you were sure Philza had messaged Technoblade to inform him of the approaching battalion that approached your home radiating malice.

Fixing your sights on the carpet that sat at the foot of the rocking chair that you sat in just moments ago you eyed the fabric remembering what lied beneath. Swiftly making your way towards the said furniture you tossed the carpet aside revealing the trap door it concealed.

A growl left your throat as the front door vibrated from the vigorous pounding as the lock held it in place.

"(Y/n) Step out of your home and surrender your weapons." A venomous voice demanded firmly as the sound of metal on metal made it to your rounded hybrid ears, four, that's how many shadows' you'd counted from beneath the door.

The power behind each knock grew potent as you slipped down the hatch, the voice of Quackity being deafened by the banging door.

Grabbing the legs of the rocking chair you swiftly pulled it over the hatch as it rested on your head against the cold metal of your helmet. At this point the knocking was no longer but the hard thud of a boot colliding with the now splintering wood you lowered the hatch still covered with the carpet down. And with that you began climbing down just as the door was thrown against your wallpapered walls.

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!" The duck hybrids voice reeked with sour venom as he spoke, you could hear the group of boots thumping against the floorboards over your head. "WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT BEAR!" His voice seethed hatefully.

Your boots hit the stone of the tunnel that stretched farther than you would have liked but this here hall of cold stone is what divided you from being captured and possibly killed and freedom that shown just beyond that faintly glowing opening just a few yards away.

"Look at this," Fundy spoke deathly close to your hatch as the sound of furniture being tossed aside like a child's toy made it to your ears a deep odious chortle radiated the bird man's throat as the hatch was thrown open. Thats when the two of you made eye contact. A snarky smirk pulled at the corners of your lips as a two fingered solute was directed to the seething Quackity clad in netherite armor.

enraged vociferation erupted as you slid a speed potion from your belt and popping the cork before again glancing up at the winged man who scaled swiftly down the ladder, earth brown hues that burned with a dangerous fire still locked on your form. With a playful chuckle and wink you downed the vials contents that took effect almost as soon as it made contact with your lips, legs pumping, creating distance between you. Capture. And freedom.

The illuminated opening approached rapidly as a crazed adrenaline-filled grin spread across your features. Blood pumped loudly in your rounded bear ears. But as fast as it came it was gone as your euphoria only lasted a few moments; the familiar sound of hissing sounded faintly, even the sound of racing blood and thinning adrenaline it made your whole world slow almost to a stop.

As if time were being manipulated as said, it seemed to slow as you frantically tried to stop your speeding form from the now crumbling wall, the shards blooming from beside your head, the sight just out of your prefrail vision as your armored hands lifted to shield your face.

Like the flip of a switch time returned, your door to freedom slammed shut as your fingers brushed its closing knob. So close but again, so far. Your body was flung back to skid across the stone floor, a few hot morsels slicing through the flesh of your cheek. The sound of shattering glass made you curse loudly as the contents of your potion bottles spilled against the cold floor. Your shock was momentary as you regained your composure, jumping back to your pawed feet clumsily.

The exit was blocked by debris.

There was no way out.

Ringing enveloped your erratic senses, vision blurring together.

The exit was blocked by debris.

There was no way out.

You had to fight.

Guess it's time to sooth your hunger, your thirst for blood.

Turning to face the four who stood in the narrow hall, you lifted your netherite blade in comparison to their four diamond axes that were too raised, ready to strike.

Quackity's chest bounced with entertainment as your form took a battle stance as he lifted his axe, directing the point towards your now bulked form obscured in tainted and matted fur as you huffed, still out of breath from running."(Y/n) (L/N), you are under arrest for the assistance of destroying L'Manberg and being associated with Technoblade. You are here by sentenced. To death..."

"That's great. That's wonderful, but you gotta get outta here Wilbur." Technoblade stated firmly pushing a finger to his temple to sooth the raging voices that roared in his ears whilst pulling the blade from its place on his mantal. The pale skinned ghost turned to face his younger brother as stress knitted into the skin of Techno's brow. "They're gonna come, they're gonna see you- and they- I don't know what they're gonna do to you-" Technoblade turned swiftly to another brewing stand, removing the potions from their spots on his counter, "-I don't know what they're gonna do to me but- I don't think it's gonna be good." Fixing the round vials to his belt, Technoblade lifted the shawl from its hook before swinging it around his shoulders, locking the chain that held it in place.

Ghostbur held his fist to his chest anxiously as he hovered over the wooden floor of his piglin brother's cabin. Technoblade turned to face the transparent male with a sigh, placing a hand on his shoulder before opening the door. "Alright, there are some bad men Wilbur that are coming to get me-" The pink haired male's words halted in his throat as the said ghost exited close behind the taller male. Swiftly making his way towards the spruce fencing that lined the staircase Ghostbur leaned over with wide oxy eyes. With a gasp the man pointed a directed finger to the open field of snow. "Techno look..." Scarlet hues following the older of the two's finger to the open tundra the piglin froze with furrowed brows. "It's a sign!" Wilbur turned back to his younger brother excitement swirling in his glossy black orbs. "Blue!"

"Ghostbur, I need you to take that sheep." Using the tip of his sword to point tot he said animal he looked the ghost of Wilbur Soot in the eyes before speaking again. "And get as far away from here as possible."

Ghostbur's features shifted happily as he excitedly heeded the others warning. "Can I have a leash?" The man questioned innocently rubbing the knitted cuffs of his yellow sweater anxiously. He did NOT like the way the pinkette was acting. The said male rushed back into the house as Ghostbur sat atop of the plywood that connected the fencing rails.

"Yeah, I can go far away," glancing back towards the taller male he watched as Technoblade's large pink ears flicked prudently. "Would it be easier for you if I went far away?"

"Uhh, I just want you to be safe Ghostbur!" Technoblade replied as he lifted the top to another chest, ferreting frantically through it before jumping to another letting the lids fall closed with a loud thud.

"I'm always safe Technoblade, I'm already dead." The ghost floated towards his twin who hastily shoved the lead into his transparent hands, "what are they gonna do? Double kill me?" The brunette chuckled humorously at his own joke but stopped as he saw the glint of desperation in the other man's crimson hues.

"Ghostbur, it's stopped snowing- go as far away as you can or go and hide over a hill or something, alright?" Leading the ghost out of the door he raked a clammy palm through his infrared locks as the said other contently bound from the lifted porch, lead in hand as he approached the animal, latching it to the lead and softly tugging it towards a nearby hill cameoed in thick pine. "Bye bye Techno, have fun preparing for the event!"

Returning back to sporadically searching through the many chests that lined the walls he retrieved what he saw fit for battle, the paranoia that devoured his mind making things all the lot harder.

Were they only going after him?

What if they hurt Ghostbur?

Was Phil okay?

Were you okay?

It had been a good long while since the God of Blood had fought another, it had been too long since his hands knew the form of his hands wrapped around the hilt of a sword tainted with blood. Maybe if things weren't as he seemed it wouldn't come to that, maybe he could negotiate with the ensemble to prevent spilling blood. He was a retired man, he sworn against violence a long time ago and sought refuge within the snowy tundra to live out his retirement.

Chatter awoke the man from his thoughts as a pink bore ear flicked towards the source, crouching low the man clad in red and netherite tip toed his way towards the window where the voices seemed to grow louder. Using his index finger to lift the cloth of his drapes Technoblade peered through the thick sheets of glass softly blanketed with frost and fog.

Swiping a hand across the glass he peeked into the night where he saw Ghostbur chatting contently with the netherite wearing men. "He got captured IMIDIATELY, I've never seen a man get captured to quick holy Hell." The said ghost glanced towards the cottage every so often he gave a polite wave before pointing excitedly towards the windows.

"Shit, no, no don't wave at me- NO, DON'T POINT AT ME! DID HE JUST TURN AND POINT AT ME!" Pinching the bridge of his nose Technoblade groaned out in despair before sighing heavily before again peeking out the window, a bead of sweat dripping down his chin.

"Oh crap, they have full enchanted netherite- I thought they were broke-" The man chuckled to himself before lifting the curtain a bit higher to see what was happening despite not being able to hear the conversation. Almost instantly Ghostbur's face brightened impossibly bigger as he frantically waved at the man in the window.

Dropping the curtain, the man pressed the heels of his palm into his eyes with a groan of complaint. Standing from his crouched position he pulled the curtain all the way open only to cry out in complaint as Ghostbur ran enthusiastically towards the cottage.

"HEY TECHNOBLADE! They say they're gonna kill you Technoblade-" Opening the wooden doors Ghostbur invited himself in approaching the nether beast.

Technoblade lurched forwards to catch the door handle as Ghostbur again made his way outside, "Ghostbur- why- why are you leading them over to my house Wilbur- why are you doing this?" Ignoring his brother's words of betrayal Ghostbur turned to face the others scarred face. "What would you like me to say back to them?" Glancing towards the hill that the group of now four stood Technoblade eyed them wearily.

"Uh, how about you look at them and tell them that I'm not here."

Ghostbur's brows furrowed tightly. "But that'd be lying, I don't like lying!" ��

"We- THEY'RE GOING TO KILL ME WHY ARE YOU NOT OKAY WITH LYING!? Aaand they're all here- and their all right outside my house- Thanks Ghostbur" standing on the flight of stairs Technoblade puffed out his chest as he clutched the hilt of his sword closer unsure to use it or not.

"Oh, Hello again Technoblade." Quackity's lips pulled into a wicked grin as Tubbo fixed the handle of his hatchet in his hand.

"Uh, hello guy's, why have you guys come all the way over here- to my humble abode?" The said man descended the stairs where he stood a few moments ago as he eyed the Four before him. Quackity, Fundy, Ranboo and Tubbo. Where was the third?

Tubbo stepped forwards with a slight tremble in his stance as he spoke with a wavering voice. "Technoblade." He inhaled. "You need to pay for your war crimes."

"Woah, woah, woah, that was in the past man, alright? That was a different Technoblade. I'm a changed man now! I'm in retirement, I'm a good person now Tubbo." Here he went, negotiation, maybe he would be able to change their minds with assurance.

Quackity hummed in denial whilst shaking his head, nose scrunching with malice as he lifted his axe to point at the man who stood before him the sheen of antipathy grew thicker with each passing second. "Techno, you and (Y/n) exploded L'Manberg with fucking-"

"You two literally spawned withers EVERYWHERE!" Tubbo cut in, placing a firm hand to the ravenette's shoulder.

Shrugging the brunette's hand away the duck hybrid stepped forwards slightly, mock understanding lacing his already ill toned voice. "I'm sorry Technoblade, but you two need to be brought to justice for that. And there is nothing I can do to change that" The male shrugged boldly, spinning the blade of his axe in his hand.

"Okay- Listen you guys, I've gone through so much effort over the past months to change my violent ways, I have reformed alright?" Lifting an empty hand to his head an index finger jabbed into the flesh of his temple as he spoke again. "The VOICES demand blood, and I- I have been denying THEM! I've been fighting back! PLEASE, please don't make kill all of you." Letting his hand drop the other that held the hilt of his sword directed to the four who stood before him before backing away a step. "Please just leave."

A tenseful silence fell upon the men before one spoke again. "Technoblade, please just come peacefully..."

Quackity lifted a hand to silence the president of the broken nation as he nodded firmly with a nonchalant shrug, "you know what, yeah, how about you show us around? Show us what you've been doing while in retirement. Let's do this peacefully."

Technoblade tensed at the raven-haired man's tone as he side stepped away from the four, swiftly approaching the far side of his house hesitantly sliding the sword into its spot on his hip. "I- huh- Well I have Bees' here, aren't they nice?"

Tubbo's eyes lit up slightly now with relaxed shoulders at the mention of his favorite mob, approaching the small makeshift bee farm he placed a hand against the glass as one shimmied its chunky body from the hole of its hive to nuzzle into the flowers that lined the wall. At the sight of this the four others openly approached the bee farm.

With a few wary backpedal steps, the pig hybrid turned on the ball of his heel, sweat gathering at the hair of his brow as he began to run from the distracted battalion of four.

After a few moments and a few feet away shouts of panic instilled as multiple footsteps followed behind the taller male who then skidded to a stop, hands raised in mocking surrender. "Hey, hey, hey, it was just a joke-"

"You know what, fuck it Techno, we tried to do this civilly, but we won't let you out of here in one fucking peice, we are going to fuck you up techno. It's either going to be the easy way or the hard way. We're going to go back to L'Manberg and you're going to come with us. There's no other way around it." Quackity spun his axe skillfully as he took a battle stance.

Technoblade's brows knit together tightly as the voices began to chant.

Blood for the Blood God.

Blood for the Blood God!

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!

His top lip pulled into a snarl revealing the sharpening canines, his figure seeming to take on new heights as patches of fur bloomed across his skin, the armor that sat loose across his stature grew tight as he revealed his full glory.

It was time to sooth their hunger.

With a huff from his snout and the snap of his jaw's he growled. "If that's how it is... I CHOOSE BLOOD!" Ripping the leather belt from his waist he slammed it down, the glass splash vials that lined it shattered coating the beast in its contents as his muscles bulked, eyes grew dilated with speed and the screaming voices, followed with his body ached with regeneration. Technoblade ripped the sword from its sheath as he sprung, blade raised high with the intent to kill.

The sharpened edge dug into the handle of Quackity's axe before unloding it from the wood and hacking down again as the said bird hybrid spun away, avoiding the deadly strike.

Panicked shouting ensued as the group of four scattered, slipping against the sheet of snow.

Turning his attention towards a certain fox featured boy Technoblade dug the hooves of his feet into the frozen forest floor, launching himself forwards delivering an armor crumbling blow. Clutching his now aching ribs Fundy scrambled to escape the beast's power whilst crying out about how God damned heavy, he hit even with the performance enhancing potions.

Sliding just a few feet away was Tubbo, axe at the ready as he charged the pink coated beast that snarled, clouds of hot smoke bellowing from his nostrils as he too charged, scarlet hues glazed with the intent to annihilate to cut down each and every single one of the men who dared disturb his retirement and force him back into the ways of violence, forcing him to collapse under the pressure of the voices to sustain their unquenchable thirst.

Fear replaced the once confident look that crossed his face as the boy turned to run, netherite boots sliding against the frozen ground. A cry of panic escaped the ball in his throat.

"BIG Q DO SOMETHING, BIG Q!" The hook in his boot caught the root of a tree, sending the president tumbling to the forest floor, diamond axe raised as Technoblade's sword collided with the base of the smaller blade, applying pleasure to the hilt of his sword the Piglin beast snarled as Tubbo's arms trembled under the unbearable weight as his emerald hues met with the dilated pair that danced with pain.

Strings of curses fell from Quackity's lips as he glanced about, looking for something to use for leverage, knowing full well he could use his gift but that was needed for more drastic measures.

The blade of the hybrid's sword dug into the flesh of Tubbo's shoulder as he cried out, struggling to push the massive creature away from him in order to escape, but it seemed that no matter how hard he tried, his attempts always went down in vain.

The familiar sound of hooves awoke The Blade from his stoper, snapping his head to the sound he saw Quackity perched on the back of a rearing Carl who whinnied in displeasure before shaking his head in a final attempt to rid of his new rider.

Panicked, Technoblade tore his blade from the other's before turning to face the ravenette.

"WOAH, WOAH, WOAH, WHAT ARE YOU DOING, WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT HORSE QUACKITY!?"

"Technoblade, stop what you're doing, stop right now-"

"Woah, woah, woah, woah, stop what you're doing. Get away from that horse Quackity." Lifting the blood tainted sword, the oversized beast directed it to the man who stirred the reigns of his stallion with a grin, satisfied that he finally found a weakness in the Legendary Technoblade.

"No." Quackity stated with a slight jerk of the reigns that willed the horse into a standing still as he held the handle of his axe to the horse's beige fur. "You get away from them Technoblade. If you pull any shit, I am going to kill Carl. I will fucking slay him if you don't get away from them."

The piglin beast's breathing stuttered as he widely stepped away from the two other hybrids.

"Technoblade, I am going to kill your horse-"

"-Why would you do that?"

"Unless you cooperate."

Technoblade's eyes narrowed as he hesitantly stepped away from the raven-haired man who sat atop his noble steed. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to drop your shit, drop your shit Techno and Carl doesn't get hurt."

With that being said the beast formed man threw his axe into the snow.

"All of it, this is not a negotiation. Drop it all"

Technoblade glanced down at the blood slicked blade that sat light in his large palm before he huffed in what seemed to be amusement. "I can get a new horse if I need too. It doesn't matter." (I know he wouldn't really say this, but for plot's sake, he is.)

Quackity looked slightly taken aback at the statement as the war criminal before him readjusted his grip on the swords hilt. With a stunned huff followed by demented and amused laughter the man on the horse shook his head with a nod.

"For some reason, I knew you'd say that. So that's why I brought you a gift, Technoblade." Digging the heel of his boots into the horse's ribs Quackity approached a small thicker part of the forest where he stopped and turned to face the oversized hybrid.

Lifting a hand, the beanie wearing man spoke with wallowing pride as the gift was shoved from behind the thicket, the sound of chains rattling filled the tense thick air. "May I present to you-" Watching as it landed limply in the snow, Quackity slid from the horses back before hopping towards the thing like a child who was told they could have whatever they wished at the candy store.

Skidding to a stop, Quackity planted both feet on either side of the figure before gripped a fist full of hair, tugging the figures blooded face up from the soiled snow to reveal who it was.

"YOUR ONE AND ONLY APPRENTICE, TADA!!" He sang in excitement that he was finally able to reveal his plan B.

(Y/N) grunted painfully as Technoblade's breath caught in his throat.

Their (h/l) (H/c) locks were matted with dark and now frozen blood that had dripped down the crown of their head before drying, their nose busted and bloodied as clots of blood plugged each nostril, both lips that were now blue from the cold were split so deep that he was sure he could see the younger one's gums that were too painted crimson from their harsh faceplant into the icy ground as shallow and stuttering breaths wheezed past your swollen. The once nice thin clothes that they wore were torn and tattered, tainted with their own crimson whine, you had not been dressed to embark on a trip to the frigid tundra. Your hands were bound behind your back by a pair of copper cuffs. (Copper is what keeps shape shifting hybrids from shifting into their animal form)

But what made his blood turn cold was how deathly pale you were. From what he could see you lost quite a bit of blood while on your way over but the bruises and deep cuts that littered your figure did not make you look any better in any way shape and or form.

Quackity held the handle of his axe with bubbling excitement as he glared challengingly at the shifted man. "Drop your shit Technoblade..."

Technoblade was frozen where he stood, eyes glued to your weakened form. You looked to broken, your (e/c) hues that once glistened with courage and power now sat dull and defenseless, he could have sworn that he saw guilt swirl in those dull eyes of yours.

Gripping the tufts of hair in his hand tighter Quackity lowered the sharpened edge of his diamond axe to rest tightly at the ball of your throat.

"Or I will kill this kid, right in front of you."

"Don't..." Your voice came out hoarse, tone just above a whisper, but he was still able to catch it. "You still have time to r-run."

Tearing his gaze from your shivering form, Technoblade dropped his sword.

His potions.

His crossbow.

Trident.

Golden apples.

All of it, before finally unlatching the hold-knob of his cloak and tossing it to the side and finally letting the glistening crown that sat atop his head clatter to the forest floor alongside his netherite armor.

His hands raised in surrender.

Quackity's brown eyes burned with victory as he removed the weapon from your throat, both of his feet from either side of you were no longer there, letting your head again fall into the snow you were then hoisted up from under your shoulder. Whimpering painfully, you unwillingly leaned against the ravenette for support as he danced giddily before his energetic facade dropped to look Technoblade dead in his rage filled eyes.

"So here is what's going to happen Technoblade, (Y/N). We are going to take you both back to L'Manberg to face trial. Alright?" His voice seethed as the other person he was supporting weakly lifted their head.

"Sounds like... Bull shit..."

Tubbo stood, lips pulled into a thin line. "They just insulted our government..."

Technoblade snapped his head to face the ram. "Oh, we just insulted your, oh your government has been insulted. OHHH!"

I had to put a few of Technoblade's funny moments because I am missing the hell out of that man.

Edited and not proofread

Masterlist

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jinx-blackout-84 · 1 year

Text

The Shady Kid From The Alleyway

Chapter 1

Tommy-centric SBI TNTduo Benchtrio fic

Dream stans DNI you won't like this one I made hum a manipulative villain.... like IRL

4016 words

TW for mentions of violence, mentions of blood, and cursing

Anything in slashes are in /italics/

Anything in dashes are -bold-

“Motherfucking fuck!”

Tommy saw a spark jump across his hand before he felt it. He snapped his hand away from the piece of metal in his hands that he was trying to install a computer chip in.

He picked it back up, sighing and glancing at the clock.

2:32 AM

His eyes were heavy, threatening to fall closed as he sat in his apartment’s kitchen. Picking up a screwdriver and the computer chip, he went back to fiddling with the metal gauntlet he had been staring at for the better part of four hours.

Does he sleep, or finish the gauntlet?

He weighed the two options in his head before conceding to finish the gauntlet on the grounds that he wouldn’t sleep anyways.

The light above the table reflected into his exhaustion-glassy eyes as he finished installing the microchip, leaving him with only a few pieces left to do. He first checked that a simple code Tubbo had written would work when run through the chip, activating a simple digital motor that would open one of the flasks attached to the gauntlet’s side, which would later be used to store gasoline to help Tubbo, in his words, “make arson more efficient, don’t you want my arson to be efficient, Tommy?”

Tubbo’s ability, the ability to conduct heat and electricity, made setting fires very easy for him even without the gasoline, which Tommy mentioned and was then debated by Tubbo. Do not debate Tubbo.

Tommy called over to the couch where insomniac Tubbo was pretending to sleep while Ranboo watched TV.

“We’re patrolling tomorrow, right?”

“Should be unless you fall off of a roof again. Think you can get that gauntlet done by tomorrow so I can code it?”

“Yeah, I just have to get a few panels screwed in and hook up the other digital motors and we should be good.”

“Awesome, let me know when you finish it up.”

“Yup, by the way, how’s the coding for my boots going?”

“Pretty shit.”

“Bugs?”

“Nope, just some new mechanics I don’t quite understand yet.”

Ranboo, enthralled moments ago by a documentary about art forgery, said, “He threw his computer at the wall earlier and I had to teleport it onto the bed so he wouldn’t break it.”

“I also had an English test today so I don’t want to hear it. That shit is difficult,” Tubbo grumbled.

“No, no, he has a point,” Tommy agreed. English was his worst subject back when he was in school.

Tommy chewed on the inside of his cheek as he hooked up a few wires from one of the motors to the CPU.

He slipped his hand into the gauntlet, flexing his fingers a few times before throwing it at Tubbo, who caught it without looking. Tommy was impressed.

“Try it on to see if it fits,” he said to Tubbo

Tubbo snarked back at him “Nope, it’s three sizes too small.”

Tommy threatened to make the gauntlet fit; and after watching Tubbo try on the gauntlet to make sure it fit, nodded, extremely proud of himself for being the most intelligent person to ever exist.

The stuffy air in the apartment was stale, and since it was not too cold outside, Tommy decided he needed some air, calling out to Tubbo and Ranboo,

“Hey, I’m heading up to the roof”

"Okay, don’t die again, thanks,” Ranboo replied, and Tubbo gave a thumbs-up.

Tommy opened the grimy window and pulled himself out onto the fire escape, which creaked concerningly under his weight. Scaling the rusted metal with expertise gained by years of practice, he finally got his hand over the upper lip of the apartment building’s roof.

The wind was quite harsh, cold against Tommy’s face, but not unwelcome after being at the table working on the gauntlet for so long. As he sat back on his hands, three things happened.

First, Tommy’s hand supporting his weight slid into a puddle and out from under him. Gross. Roof puddle.

Second, Tommy heard a scream from a nearby alleyway.

Third, he fell off the roof, directly into the alley the scream had come from.

“MOTHERFUCKER” He screeched, trying to throw out his hands to use his power.

A sudden gust of wind slowed his fall considerably, but hitting the concrete hurt like a bitch, which he said.

“That hurt like a bitch.”

“Looked like it,” A gruff and oddly robotic voice answered.

Tommy spun around quickly, making eye contact with a towering man. A man with a red cape and pig mask.

“Nope. I think the fuck not. I’m going back to my apartment. Fuck no.” Tommy said with conviction.

Just as he turned to leave, the man’s hand caught his hood, turning him around.

There was something cold under his chin, Tommy realized. Ah, it was a sword. Wonderful.

“You can’t just leave,” the man drawled “How do I know you won’t report me?”

“I promise that you, The Blood God, SBI and syndicate member, highest kill count villain, can handle being reported,” Tommy pointed out, before his brain could tell him to please shut the fuck up.

“You’re pretty mouthy for a hostage.” The Blood God drawled

After a moment of thinking, Tommy added “Please do not stab me. I do not have health insurance.”

“I am probably not going to stab you, just,” The Blood God pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead, “need a second to think.”

“Who screamed just now?” Tommy’s shoulders relaxed upon receiving the news that he was not to be stabbed, “was it you? Did you fall off of one of the roofs?”

After saying this, Tommy noticed a massive pool of blood below his feet.

“Oh, never mind,” he said cheerfully.

The Blood God sighed. He did not get paid enough for this. “Look, kid-”

“Fuck you I’m 16”

“-just, I don’t know, let me knock you out.”

“In a dirty alleyway? I cannot afford to be sick right now, bitch, and I probably already have AIDS from standing in this blood so thank you for that.”

Tommy tensed to run out of the alley, not liking his odds if he tried, but liking his odds if he got knocked out less.

“Okay, then just stay here or something. You can't get past me anyways."

"You can't hold me here, that's child abduction," Tommy said matter-of-factly.

He could maybe yell for Tubbo? Maybe Ranboo could teleport him out?

"Ah, well you see, as a criminal, I am hardly concerned about what is or is not a crime." The Bitch God responded.

Ah. The Bitch God had a point, Tommy conceded

Well. Tommy knew more than all men because he was far cooler than them, he decided.

Tommy said this to The Blood God, who looked down at him with disdain. The Blood God then tapped the side of his mask and spoke into it, "Yeah, so I found a kid," he paused, "Yup in the alleyway with me, no I cannot kill him. Yes we are still meeting here."

Tommy watched him, curious, and said, "who are you talking to?"

Okay. Shit. Tommy had to get out of this. How could he get out of this.

"None of your business," The Blood God replies

Tubbo and Ranboo were out of the question because The Blood God had heightened reflexes and would not hesitate to kill Tommy before Ranboo could teleport him out.

“Just tell me," Tommy protested

"You're like a toddler," The Blood God said, pinching his nosebridge.

"I AM NOT, BITCH," Tommy said, defending his honor against The Blood God's deceit.

"FINE I was talking to the rest of the Syndicate," The Blood God replied.

"You said they were coming here. Are you going to kill me?"

"Yes," the Blood God deadpanned.

Tommy hoped that was a joke "well good luck, I am the coolest and biggest man ever."

The Blood God looked over at him, raising his eyebrows and dropping the sword to his side.

Tommy’s posture relaxed the moment the sword was removed from his throat.

He felt the air in his fingers and imagined pulling it all towards him. The air pressure suddenly grew and he shot upwards, flying high enough he could've grabbed the top of the building if he hadn't been pulled back to the ground. Fuck.

Tommy hit the ground for the second time that night, and felt a thud reverberate through his ribs. They were for sure gonna kill him now. Panic clutched Tommy’s chest, though he tried not to let it show.

He heard an impressed whistle behind him.

Turning around, Tommy saw a large pair of wings and shining green eyes. Oh shit. The Raven.

"This the kid?" The man spoke and it had the same robotic sound as the Blood God’s. Voice changers then.

"Yep. Annoying as fuck, too," the Blood God Replied.

"You don’t want to do this" Tommy said, panic in his eyes.

"Ah, I see what you mean, mate, but he's just scared" The Raven replied.

"Oh no, he's very bitchy for a hostage. Give him a minute to get his attitude back." The Blood God said.

Tommy flicked his eyes over The Raven, trying to size him up under the cloak he wore.

And then, Tommy heard a snicker from the entrance of the alleyway.

And holy shit.

Tommy's favorite villain.

Mercury.

Mercury who could make anyone do his bidding with just a word. Who had never been apprehended, who fought with a smoothness Tommy had tried to emulate for years. Holy shit.

Mercury spoke, "so you can fly?"

"Well, sort of," Tommy said.

"What's your mutation?" Mercury asked.

"I can’t just tell you that" Tommy said.

Mercury rolled his eyes. "Well I can make you tell me, what is it?"

"Air pressure control."

The Blood God's eyes widened incrementally and he said, "damn."

"Do you have strong control?" Mercury questioned.

"Usually."

"Damn. That's a strong power." The Blood God said.

"I don't know, I can just jump around and fly a little"

"Then you're not using it right" Zephyrus said.

"Huh? Don't tell me how to use my powers bitch!" Tommy yelled, indignant.

"Oh, there's the attitude," The Blood God said.

Shit. He let his tongue get away from him. Shit he was dead. He got lower to the ground, pulling an exacto knife out of his hoodie pocket. It wasn’t much, but it might work if he was lucky.

Mercury snickered "Is that an Exacto knife?"

The Blood God began to speak "You’re gonna need more than tha-"

The crackle of a radio attached to The Raven's hip cut him off, and all of them fell silent to listen to it

“Hey, you need to get out of there, someone reported you.”

Three faces turned to Tommy.

"How would I report you? I left my phone inside. Plus, I would rather /not/ help the heroes if I have the choice. " He said.

"What do you mean, mate?" The Raven asked.

"They're not as great as everyone says. Even I know that, and I didn't even finish high school," Tommy muttered

"Huh, you an anarchist?" The Blood God asked.

"Not an anarchist, just a hero-anti I guess. I mean I could care less, they protect us in Logstedchire about the same amount as they would if they weren't here. Dosen't matter much if they're around or not," Tommy shrugged.

"Huh," The Raven said.

Mercury spoke into his mask, but there was something different in his voice than when he spoke to Tommy, “Hey Ace, can you figure out who reported us?”

The radio crackled again, “I mean I can try.”

"Well," Mercury said, "that's our cue. Bye kid"

He watched as Zephyrus took off carrying The Blood God, spiraling into the sky. Mercury used some smoke bombs on his belt to cloud the alleyway, gone by the time the smoke dissipated.

Tommy did not want to be in the alleyway. It was full of diseases and blood.

He walked through the entrance to the apartment building, disheveled and tired, and decided to think about that interaction later.

He then walked back through his apartment door, Tubbo's head popping up to look at him.

"Why didn't you come in through the fire escape?" Tubbo asked.

Shit. He needed a good lie.

"Fell off the fuckin roof again," Tommy grumbled.

Ranboo spoke, muffled by the pillow his face was squished into, "called it."

"Why is there blood on your shoes?" Tubbo questioned.

"I dunno man, there was blood in the alleyway." Tommy said.

"You're suspect."

Tommy grumbled some more.

He glamced at the clock

3:31

"I'm going to fuckin bed."

"Not until you shower," Tubbo said, "You have that interview tomorrow"

"Fuckin fine." Tommy replied.

---------

Wilbur tapped his pencil against his notebook as he sat criss-cross in his bed.

He had sheets of paper strewn around him, trying to draft a song he had been writing for awhile, but he couldn't think.

He couldn't seem to focus on the song when every time he blinked he remembered how that kid had looked at him. Something in the kid struck Wilbur as familiar, and he looked at his Mercury mask sitting on his bedside table.

Eventually, he gave up on trying to write new lyrics, knowing it was a fruitless effort.

He walked into the kitchen, seeing the clock sitting in the corner of the kitchen.

4:13 AM

He rubbed his eyes as he grabbed a glass, jumping when he saw a looming figure enter the kitchen. Techno's pink hair looked orange in the low light that shone through the kitchen.

"Couldn't sleep?" Techno asked.

"Couldn't stop thinking about that kid," wilbur replied, filling up his glass with ice cubes.

"Reminded me of you, you know," Technoblade said.

"That's funny. He made me think of you," Wilbur replied

----------

Tommy had not slept. He had laid in bed staring at the roof, which was so familiar by now that he thinks he could point out a new crack or stain instantly.

The room had been quiet, and Tommy's mind had made up for it, turning his interaction with the villains over in his head over and over again.

He eventually dragged himself out of bed, looking to the red numbers on the clock

4:47 AM

Tomorrow was Wednesday. Well, technically it was already Wednesday, but he didn't have to be at the interveiw till 11 AM. Shuffling around the kitchen for a moment, he sat down at the table with a mug of coffee and opened his laptop.

It was old, but it worked well enough as he tried to model some peices for printing on the 3d printer him and Tubbo had built shortly after becoming vigilantes.

He was making a new mask for Ranboo with night and thermal vision and a voice changer. He and Tubbo already had voice changers, but the pieces for thermal and night vision were too expensive for them to all have it, so he gave it to Ranboo, the least likely to break it. Tubbo shouldn't have to code this one much, so maybe if tommy could make it quickly enough Ranboo could have it by Saturday.

He worked on the rims of the goggles, making sure they were proportionate and would fit Ranboo, before sending the file off to the printer to realize.

The clock blinked.

5:34 AM.

Tommy blinked.

------------

The carpet in the waiting room had a stain in it, Tommy noticed. The rest of the carpet was an even grey, but the stain was red-brown. Gross.

It was 10:49

He was fiddling with the spacebar on his laptop as he tried to focus back onto a new support tech item he was supposed to be designing was a dart gun that you didn’t have to reload.

His current idea, the darts were stacked into the gun like toothpicks in a toothpick holder. It could probably shoot about five times between reloads. This was unrelated to the fact that Tommy had accidentally stabbed himself with a dart in the middle of a fight and passed out six times to date. He didn’t need help reloading a dart gun. He just thought it would be cool. Yup.

He rubbed his hand over the band-aid under his chin from The Blood God’s blade. He considered the interaction. Why hadn’t the villains killed him? Why did The Blood God say his power was strong? Tommy heard footsteps and snapped his laptop shut. Someone came out of a door to his left his glasses, with odd red and blue lenses, caught on the fluorescent light. His nametag read “Jack.”

The man nodded at him, asking “You Thomas Innit?”

“Yup.”

“Awesome, your interview is this way, follow me.”

Tommy trailed after Jack, tempted to ask about the glasses.

“Hey, why are your glasses like that?” Tommy paused, “not to be rude. Sorry.”

“Nah you’re good mate. It’s part of my power. I can vaguely see people’s emotions based on color, and the glasses help to get rid of it. It’s kind of distracting and feels like an invasion of privacy so I like having them but I don’t have to wear them,” Jack explained.

“Dude that’s fuckin’ awesome,” Tommy replied, faltering. “Am I allowed to say that here?”

“I mean I would avoid saying it in front of Bad but yeah,” Jack said.

“Awesome.”

They came up to a door and Tommy took a deep breath.

“Nervous?” Jack asked kindly.

“Fuckin’ terrified” Tommy replied with a huffed laugh.

“Well, I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“Thanks, big man.”

“Oh, I never said my word meant anything, I’m just an assistant,” Jack smiled.

“Still nice to know I’ve got at least one of you bastards on my side.”

Jack smiled again and walked away.

Tommy pushed open the door.

The first thing he noticed was not the floor-to-ceiling windows or the giant desk.

It was the man’s eyes.

They were a bright green, cold and calculating as they watched the door.

He also noticed how they widened in shock when he saw Tommy.

Tommy looked at his shirt to make sure he didn’t have something on it. He knew it wasn’t a suit or anything fancy but he tried to dress up a little and wore a collared shirt with jeans.

By the time Tommy looked up, the man had regained his composure, and the confidence on his face made Tommy wonder if he had even seen the man’s shock at all.

He walked into the room a bit further.

“Hello, Thomas,” The man spoke, with warmth in his voice as his glare softened into a more laid-back type of playfulness “Please sit. You’re here for the interview, correct?”

Tommy sat, and when he spoke, he did not drawl his words, giving them a crisp lightness, “Yes, I’m glad you could make time to meet with me.”

“My name is Philza and I will be interviewing you for a job as a Tech Department Manager," The man said.

Philza looked at Tommy and spoke, "what makes you qualified for this job, Thomas?"

"I think you can see that for yourself, Big man," Tommy said.

Philza smiled.

"Yes," he picked up Tommy's resume, "I can see you have a degree in Engineering from L'manburg Technology and Mathematics University. by the way, how old were you when you graduated high school?"

"Oh," Tommy paused, "I was fifteen."

This, Tommy knew, was a lie. He had no degree, had never finished high school.

You know, the kind of stuff that happens when you were supposed to be dead.

"Now, these are unusual circumstances because our last technology manager was killed by villains, and we currently have no one on staff that could take over the job.”

Tommy nodded to show he was listening. Now, I’ve read over your resume, and It’s impressive, I’m not going to lie, especially for a, oh how old were you?”

“Eighteen, nineteen in a month or so.”

Philza smiled sharply. “Ah, yes, how could I have forgotten. So, you were emancipated at sixteen, correct?”

Tommy nodded.

“Yes, I had a rough home life, so I applied for emancipation. I think this job could help.me get my footing.”

“It’s not an easy process, takes some determination,”

Philza said, ignoring Tommy’s attempt to change the subject.

“It’s easier when It’s the only way you’ll make it to eighteen,” Tommy said with false calm, letting some of his Upper L’manburg accent slip, quickly adjusting his voice to have the definitive posh lilt.

Philza backed down.

“So,” Philza said, grinning, “Why this job?”

Tommy leaned back in the chair. He could do interviews now that the questions about his past were over. “Well,” he began “I think I have a fitting skillset and could flourish in this position,” he ignored as his brain made a that’s what she said joke, “I think I could be an asset and I have been working in technology and engineering since I was sixteen. I am responsible and work well in leadership and would love to collaborate with the people here to produce new and innovative designs to improve the-” he faltered for a moment, “the capabilities and influence of heroes,” He finished.

Boom, Perfect answer, Tommy thought to himself.

“Huh. Okay then mate,” Philza paused, leveling his eyes to meet Tommy’s again and he felt himself pierced by the viridian gaze.

Philza continued, “What do you think about heroes, Thomas?”

Tommy paused. “Well, they keep the community safe and help to stop villain attacks and are wonderful role models. If I had a better Mutation, I would want to be one, but I just aspire to represent them as much as I can in my day-to-day life,” Tommy lied, talking with his hands like the people in upper L’manburg. “I think they do a great job of showing how we can all come together to prote-” Philza put a hand up, “Cut the shit” Tommy balked, “I beg your pardon?” Philza made eye contact with him

"Your accent is good," Philza said.

"Pardon?" Tommy asked.

"The accent's great, but Upper L'manburg citizens talk with their hands. Yours were in your lap the whole time."

Tommy froze.

"You can cut the shit, mate," Philza said.

“What are you suggesting?” Tommy asked, a threat veiled as politeness.

“I think you know exactly what I’m suggesting, Thomas,” Philza said evenly, pausing, “I want to know your opinions on heroes. Say what you think not just recite some news article from Upper L’manburg to me.”

“Well, I am entirely indebted to the heroes of L’manbur-”

Philza set his hand down on the table, not slamming it, but hard enough to make a noise.

Tommy flinched, watching as Philza stored that information.

“I said cut the shit.”

Tommy laughed, letting his accent fall away. “Okay, you want to know what I think of heroes? I think that if they cared about my side of L’manburg, like Logstedchire and theFarlands half as much as they do the center district and Upper district, then L’manburg would be crime free. Instead, I have face-to-face encounters with the villains they’ve sworn as their enemies in alleyways full of blood while they’re off saving some millionaire’s watch so they can put it on the fucking news. I think if they really want vigilantes gone, they should do their goddamn job so teenagers and non-trained citizens in masks don’t have to do it for them. I think I should be able to sleep through the night in my Logstedchire apartment without being woken by fucking gunshots. I think they do it for the money and the fame and spit on anyone who dares question them. That’s what I FUCKING think.”

Philza looked at him with something Tommy couldn’t decipher. “We’ll call you to let you know if you got the job,” he said, no tells of any emotion in his voice.

Fuck. Tommy had needed this job and he had gone and fucked it up.

God fucking damn it.

Tommy passed Jack on the way out, who gave him a questioning look, and Tommy shook his head slightly.

Jack’s shoulders sagged. He gave him a sad nod and waved as Tommy left.

Tommy waved back, holding back tears.

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