#technoblade mention

[charbeloved]

Tommy🧸

OKAYOKAYOKAYOKAYOKAY SO

He was like 8/9ish in L'Manburg, right?

He had eat, right?

I havent seen any actual content from lman so once i rewatch toms pov this may change BUT I HC THAT NIKI COOKED HIM A LOT OF THINGS

THAT HC ALSO TRANSFERS OVER TO @ask-hermit-tommy AND THATS WHY SHES PINK FOR CARING IS BECAUSE HE LOOKS UP TO HER SLIGHTLY, EVEN AFTER THE NUKE THING (yet again havent watched, only really saw logsted clips and techno content now that i think about it)

its also why anyone who hermit!tom doesnt know that helps him *cough cough* doc *cough cough* is pink, as thst is the main color i associate with niki and in my au she took care of him before and during the independence war

[writing-oof]

autism and bees, bees and autism

Tubbo has autism. Puffy knows that Tubbo has autism. Tubbo does not know that he has autism.

TW: hints of PTSD? idk

The clock ticks like a bomb, set to explode the moment Tubbo takes his eyes off of it.

----

Technically, there's nothing wrong with Puffy's office.

----

Things stop being okay, at some point.

Tubbo starts to notice things more, after that first session with Puffy.

Puffy wants him to think more about how he feels. She gives him a journal and homework, telling him to log in it whenever he feels something bigger than usual.

He doesn't have to ask what "big" means. "Choking," she means. "Devastating."

It doesn't happen a lot, and never for very long.

Still, by the end of the week, he has three logs.

---

Sometimes, Tubbo doesn't behave correctly.

He knows this. It's been a problem since he was a kid, even if Ms Puffy assures him that no four-year-old really behaves correctly.

That isn't the point, though. For the first time, he's really not using 'behave' and 'obey' synonymously.

For whatever reason, Tubbo Underscore does not act the same as his peers.

It's trauma, Ms Puffy says.

Tubbo doesn't think she's wrong, necessarily. Loads of the things that he's done for years are deeply rooted in trauma.

Still, too many teachers have called him the odd one out for him to think that it's just trauma.

----

"Are you familiar with autism?"

Tubbo snaps his gaze away from his hands to meet Puffy's eyes, surprised.

It's not the question he expected her to ask, at the least.

"Autism," Tubbo repeats, letting his gaze drift around the room as he thinks. "It's a developmental disorder? It affects the function of the brain."

He looks back to Puffy. "Sorry. I don't know. Tommy's brother's autistic, I think?"

"That's Techno, right?" Puffy asks, like she isn't good friends with Philza outside of work. Tubbo's always admired her ability to keep her work and her life separate.

Tubbo agrees, "Yeah. He's weird with chairs."

Puffy hums, letting her pen tap against her clipboard. "He's weird with chairs?" she asks, "Could you elaborate? Maybe tell me what autistic behavior you've noticed."

"No, Tommy told me he was autistic," Tubbo defends, "I didn't just assume he was because he acted autistic."

Not that Technoblade doesn't act autistic. He definitely does.

"That's alright," Puffy says, "I wasn't really worried about that. Could you elaborate about the chairs and other behavior you saw?"

Tubbo nods. "He has a specific place you have to sit at the table. And he's not good with loud noises."

Tubbo thinks for a second. "Sometimes he hits his hands on his legs when he's excited."

He shows her the motion, tapping the heel of his palms against his thighs in a sequence of twos.

"He has headphones," Tubbo remembers, "He wore them at the park because it was too loud."

Puffy nods, waiting for him to continue.

"That's all I can think of," Tubbo says, "Sorry."

"Don't be," Puffy dismisses, "Those are some great observations. Why do you think Technoblade wears the headphones when it's loud?"

Technoblade wears the headphones because he's autistic, and loud things are worse for him. And when things feel bad or painful, people shouldn't make themselves do that bad or painful thing.

Tubbo knows what Puffy's doing.

Unless she hasn't read Schlatt's email yet, so she doesn't know about the dishes. Then, he has no idea what she's doing. Besides, it does seem a bit roundabout to use autism to make Tubbo realize he was being stupid.

Tubbo huffs. "Can you just tell me whatever it is I need to realize?"

Puffy quirks an eyebrow. Tubbo crosses his arms, the scrutiny digging under his skin.

"Sure," Puffy agrees after a moment, "I was going to point out that you share a lot of behaviors with Technoblade."

Tubbo's mind stutters to a stop.

What?

She can clearly see his skepticism, so she carries on.

"When you're nervous, you tap your hands or pull on your fingers. When you're excited or distressed, you shake out your hands like you got them wet."

Tommy noticed that one too.

He'd asked what Tubbo got on his hands, the last time he did that.

"So I have a nervous tic?" Tubbo asks.

Puffy clarifies, "Stimming. You don't only stim when you're nervous. You do it when you're excited or really happy, too. It's not exclusively an autistic behavior."

Tubbo wasn't exactly worried it was, considering he apparently does it too.

"You also have notable sensory differences," Puffy points out and Tubbo frowns.

"I do?" he asks. He's never noticed any sensory issues before.

"There are several types of foods you don't eat because of textures," she notes, reading off her clipboard, "You don't wear denim because of the texture. You listen to music on full volume to destress, but are easily overwhelmed by the noise in public spaces. You have a fascination with multi-textured fidgets, especially ones that click. You hate fluorescents because they buzz and you keep a fan running in your room constantly for the noise."

Tubbo's kind of surprised those things he mentioned offhandedly were important enough for her to write them down, but he supposes he kind of does have sensory issues.

"Is that it?" he asks, surprisingly curious, "Or is there more stuff?"

Puffy smiles reassuringly and says, "There's a bit more."

Tubbo nods interestedly and listens.

"Well, you have fixated and restricted interests that you've mentioned you focus on at least multiple times a day," Puffy notes.

Tubbo's eyebrows pinch together, a bit. "Everyone has things they like."

"Sure," Puffy agrees, "but not everyone has things they think about for years and care about intensely."

Tubbo considers her. "Like Greek Mythology, for Techno?"

Puffy nods eagerly. "Exactly like that. For you, it's bees."

---

And Tubbo loves bees.

In his room at Schlatt's apartment, he has bees all over. He's got a bee blanket, bee legos, bee books, and a handful of different bee plushies.

And he has pretty much always loved bees.

He remembers when he was a kid, that he would pretend that he was a bee, buzzing and buzzing and buzzing inside his closet he pretended was a hive.

[fr-likes-chocolate]

My graveyard of dead Fics I won’t finish :(

Mostly bc Dream is a bad person and dsmp’s downfall

Dang, oh well.

[iwritemystiry]

Therapist and goodbyes

I used to go to a therapist every week on Tuesday.

Keyword is was, yesterday was the last time I’ll probably ever see her.

I didn’t want to say goodbye. I really liked my therapist. However money is tight for my family and she is leaving in a few weeks.

My mom says I can go back to the place she works for when we are better off financially but I don’t think I want to.

I’m more upset about this than I want to be, I’ve only been going to her for 2-3 months tops, about 8-12 visits. She was really helpful and I learned a lot though, I really enjoyed her.

Regardless it’s happened. I said goodbye.

I wonder if I’ll ever see her again

Oftentimes it’s things like these that break me

Saying goodbye to a friend I hardly knew. Same thing happened when I found out MCYT technoblade died.

To him I was just another subscriber, but he really inspired me. When he died I felt like I would never smile again.

Such insignificant things to most are world shattering to others I guess-

[420technoblazeit]

has anybody else seen the bit in tommy's new video yet. where he asks mumbo jumbo if he can revive technoblade with redstone. bc that actually made my jaw DROP hol yshit. the pause just before he says it. you can hear the gears turning in phil's head as he realizes what tommy's about to say. the immediate psychic damage. truly horrid thank you tommy. ik techno would be losing it over that joke

[fghniki]

shout out to technoblade for posting new videos from beyond the grave. commitment to the grind we should all be striving towards

[bigeelwizard]

i know coming back right is kinda a silly idea but im thinking about it.

what if ranboo came back, and they came back right?

not physically, of course. god, he looks a decade older and has the exhaustion to match. their skin is marred, mostly scar tissue now, from the explosion, from sam, from the endless ocean of limbo, from crying. tubbo hates that they match now. he’s skinnier, too, as if death took everything but the skin and bones of him. they look more monstrous. theres a new streak of white in his hair. it reminds tubbo of wilbur. it reminds tommy of himself.

but he’s just as kind, he still holds their son with tenderness and sings songs of old to him. he still brushes tubbos hair away with a feather-light touch. they still help techno with the dogs. he still visits tommy. they still grow pink tulips.

their memory is... better. ranboo still loses his house keys and forgets where he was going or what they ate for lunch, but they have every scar on tommy memorized, he knows tubbo like the back of their hand, can recite historical events like a textbook, will never lose track of an important date again.

its all they had in limbo. he didnt want to forget for good.

he's still scared, if they're being honest. scared that their sacrifice was for nothing. scared that his family will be destroyed again and again for the sick pleasure of some fucking guy. scared that he'll be used again. scared that they'll hurt the people they care about again. but for now they're okay, they have a team and a family and a second chance.

ranboo comes back and theyre okay, honestly. they move into the mansion with his husband and child. he thanks techno again and again for saving his son. for saving him. techno doesnt accept the thanks, he should've done more. he talks with tommy about limbo, and about grief. they visit their own graves and they grieve. for one another, for themselves. it washes over them in waves. tubbo still waits for the other shoe to drop, for his husband or himself to turn into a maniac and blow the server to bits, but it doesnt come. it won't come. its not the same, it cant be, but its good for the first time in a long time.

maybe the other shoe doesn’t have to drop. maybe sometimes people can come back and maybe they can be okay.

[tharett]

Forgot to post this Xd

Uhhh yeah! Context of the thing on the left!

(Idk man, Phil is probably saying something silly about Tech and Tech is embarrassed and yeah, cute interaction I think)

(I think that in my sick little mind they’re trying to show they’re not a threat because they did take over the world once—)

/

Se me olvidó compartir esto Xd

Oh, y el contexto de lo que está en la izquierda!

(Neta ni tengo la menor idea, Phil está avergonzando a Tech como una mamá compartiendo cosas vergonzosas de su hijo a una amiga, y pues sí, solo una interacción graciosa)

(Creo que hice esta interacción pq dentro mi cerebrito enfermo querían enseñar que no son una amenaza ya que han conquistado el mundo una vez—)

[charred-angel-ribs]

I'm so glad they kept this instead of just removing it shortly after it happened. /gen

Technoblade never dies. o7 /ref

[technoblade-updates]

Tommy has become a UK Sarcoma ambassador in Techno’s name! There’s also an article on their website about this! Link

[Image ID:

A cropped screenshot of a tweet by Sarcoma UK @/Sarcoma_UK that was quote retweeted by TommyInnit @/tommyinnit.

Sarcoma UK’s tweet reads “‘I’d never heard of sarcoma cancer until Technoblade was diagnosed and I’m heartbroken that he’s gone.’ We welcome YouTube and Twitch sensation, @/tommyinnit as Sarcoma UK’s latest Celebrity Ambassador.”

Tommy’s quote retweet reads “Hello, everyone. I'm really proud to announce that I am becoming an Ambassador for the @Sarcoma_UK charity. I didn't know anything about Sarcoma before @:Technothepig, and now I want to raise as much awareness as I can.”

End ID]

[proditrix-ew]

damn guys did u know that adulthood is like uhhh hard? welp i didn't............

i love them literally so much bbxfhihugjyb hellp me

[weird-mcyt-dreams]

Mumbo jumbo died. Like the news reached me very similarly to technoblade but instead of a really heartfelt goodbye, it was an average apology video for dying.

Hoping this anon isn't having a prediction ngl lol, it happens sometimes

[moltengoldveins]

@clingyduoapologist made a really cool “what if DSMP were a stage play” post and basically the instant I saw it I was struck by the muse but I don’t want to just chain reblog the dang thing or make one huge reblog with all my thoughts so instead here are all my thoughts on this concept

i don’t think it’s a musical. I think the tone of the story doesn’t fit. But if it were, it would have a Lot of scenes of unsung dialogue, and that dialoge? Would be rhythmic poetry. It’s Shakespeare Appreciation Time baby.

i do however think there would be a live score and an orchestra. A lot of the music would need to be recorded but there’s at least be a few musicians.

different characters speak in different poetic styles at different times to communicate character and plot development.

to elaborate on that: Characters switch from loose ABBA or ABAB rhyme schemes and vaguely rhythmic meter when chatting back and forth to strict perfect iambic pentameter for tense scenes or political speeches.

Techno speaks exclusively in unrhyming dactylic hexameter, an extremely common poetic form for Greek and Latin poetry. It’s what the Iliad was written in. This has the interesting effect of making Techno sound, at first glance, unpoetic. His speech doesn’t rhyme, and doesn’t follow a common English rhythm scheme, so it wouldn’t immediately register as structured. However, dactylic hexameter is actually significantly harder to write in English than expected because of our syllable stress patterns. Speaking like that would be, objectively, a sign of extreme intelligence, but could easily be overlooked as coarse uncultured behavior.

Techno’s chorus - composed of audience members, background extras, and people (in safety harnesses) sitting in the theater rafters - speak largely in Greek and Classical Chinese, quoting sections of the Art of War and Homer’s work. The major exceptions to this are ‘Blood for the Blood god,’ ‘no,’ and ‘do it.’ They all wear a hat or some form of headband that has a glowing LED eye, hidden, but activated when they speak. The audience plants are all in dark clothes, and when the lights go down they don medical masks/sunglasses. Anything to obscure their faces.

The Chorus, a group of robed masked people who broke the fourth wall and often entered the audience, was a vital part of early Greek theatre. I am an intolerable nerd, and the thought of sitting in a dark theatre only to hear an low distorted voice beside you start to comment on the play as a whole choir of voices echo around you, then turning to see your seat neighbor is a masked person with a glowing red eye in your forehead? Literally incredible.

Dream is the only character dressed in even remotely modern clothes.

Dream is first seen as someone (again, in modern clothes) sneaking around backstage in a black hoodie: most of the audience probably assumes he’s a stagehand and not meant to be seen. Then, at some point, he moves from behind a set piece and enters the scene as an actual character, revealing his mask.

interestingly, this is really similar to what I believe is a bit of myth about why ninjas are dressed in all black in modern media. They wouldn’t have been irl, they would’ve dressed like civilians. But stagehands in Japanese theatre would dress in all-black, and were often completely visible onstage moving sets - it was common courtesy to ignore them. Then one day some playwright had the brilliant idea of having one of the stagehands enter the story as an assassin, and suddenly every actor in all-black was a threat. For the life of me I can’t remember where I read that but it’s a cool thought :D

Dream canonically can interact with set pieces, lighting, and curtains.

Dream actively directs lighting in scenes he is not in, sitting above the stage kicking his feet.

Dream is often used to hand off props to characters instead of having them pull them from a pocket and pretend they were pulled from their ‘inventory.’ This begins to get confusing when Dream is acknowledged later on as the he person giving, say, TNT to Wilbur, or wither skulls to Techno.

characters address the audience as ‘Chat,’ (English’s first fourth-person pronoun my beloved) almost constantly, especially for comedic purposes- most of their monologues are addressed directly to the audience as well. For Wilbur, it’s a sign of instability when he stops addressing ‘Chat’ and start addressing the sides or back of the stage.

philza enters from the lower audience, right by the stage, probably after pooping up from the orchestra pit and taking a reserved seat halfway through so no one sees the wings.

Tommy has by far the least structured or rhyming dialogue - if it weren’t for how carefully crafted it was it would sound like normal prose.

Tommy speaks to the audience by FAR the most. Wilbur only addresses them when soliloquizing. Techno barely addresses them at all: they address him. Ranboo speaks to the audience only when alone, and it’s usually phrased like he’s writing in his memory journal. Tommy speaks to the audience at first like a loud younger brother. As he gets older, it sounds more and more like a plea for help, a prayer for intervention that will never come. Exile is one long string of desperate begging aimed our way.

Tommy stops speaking to the audience so much after Doomsday. He starts again when Dream is imprisoned. He stops for good when he dies in there, beaten, alone.

Sam and the Warden are meant to be played by different actors, ideally siblings or fraternal twins. They wear identical stage makeup and costumes, but the difference is there. None of the characters acknowledge this.

the Stage would need to be absolutely massive and curve almost halfway around the central audience, largely because it should be able to be split at times into two separate stages to show different things happening at the same time. This could possibly also work if there were two stages, but getting people to easily turn from one stage to the other without loosing sight of what was happening would be rough.

Doomsday taking advantage of the scaffolding in the rafters and using them as the ‘grid’ for the tnt droppers.

actual trained dogs for Doomsday my beloved. Would cost a fortune but could you imagine.

the entire revolution arc ripped off Hamilton, we all know that, I think we can afford to have a stagehand step forward in that frozen moment in time when Tommy and Dream have that duel, grab the arrow, and carry it slowly across the stage right into Tommy’s eye. For morale.

throughout the execution scene Techno keeps slipping out of poetic meter, especially when he sees/is worried about Phil. After the totem (which would be freaking amazing as some sort of stage effect with like lights and red and green streamers or smthn dude-) he stops speaking in poetry. The scene with Quackity is entirely spoken dialogue. Chat is silent. It’s only when he gets back and sees evidence that his house has been tampered with that Chat starts up again (kill, blood, death, hunt, hunt, hunt-) and he starts speaking in rhythm again.

Every canon death, Dream marks a tally on something in the background. Maybe it’s in his arm? Like a personal scorecard. Or maybe it’s on the person themselves, a little set of three hearts he marks through with a dry-erase marker or something.

phil and techno have a lot more eastern design elements and musical influences than the rest of the cast, except for Techno’s war theme which is just choir, bagpipes, and some sort of rhythmic ticking or thumping. Phil’s also got a choir sting but it’s a lot harsher, the ladies are higher and them men lower, and the chords are really dissonant (think murder of crows)

Tommy’s theme has a lot of drums, but its core is actually a piano melody. The inverse of Tommy’s theme is Tubbo’s, but Tubbo’s is usually played on a ukulele. Wilbur is guitar, obv, and Niki’s is on viola.

Quackity is a little saxophone lick. He and Schlatt both have a strong big band/jazz influence.

None of the instruments that play dream’s theme play anywhere else in the music. I’m thinking harp, music box, and some kind of low wind instrument.

[ichosetenderplaces]

I : And Muse Beside the Rippling Stream

Part I : Feel No Fear Before the Multitude of Men Requested By: @lissthatskiss Ares!Technoblade x HalfNymph!Reader

Recommended Listening: For the Love of God by MSI and IDWBM by Type O Negative Words: 1.2k Taglist: @lissthatskiss @segnoblade @wingedghostpepper

The steady grip on the hilt of your sword is the only thing that grounds you. In the roaring cheers of the audience, it is much too easy to lose yourself. 

Racing feet. Your blood mixes with the sharp rocks that line your path away from your pursuers. Your sisters cut down and captured one after another. Tears down your cheeks, blood on your feet, you looked every bit the fleeing half-nymph you were.

Your mind lingers on the hot sand underneath your feet. It holds the hot fury of the noon sun. So much so, you almost imagine the blood that has soaked into it to evaporate. 

Slippery sand. You crash into the river bed and make a break for it. You are strong for a half mortal. Though, it truly wouldn’t have made much of a difference. Not in any way that matters.

Just like the sand, the sun beats down on your form. You do not raise your sword in victory, you never have and never will in such a bastardly place. You were supposed to be living by the river with the kin you have always felt closest to. 

Artemis was not enough to protect you. She could retrieve your sisters, the full nymphs, but for ones with mortal blood? There was nothing she could do. Not as you were dragged kicking and screaming into a slave wagon.

The hot iron shackles burn as you’re dragged back to your cell. Your weapon taken, there is little you can do. It would be futile to think otherwise. You have seen what they have done to those who do not listen. It takes all your self-restraint not to join the brutish display they have turned into. 

Tossed into a wagon with bars made for animals. You do not see any of your sisters nearby. One final cry, and you realize they have all been struck down or captured. All your sisters had been under the tutelage of Artemis. An inspiring goddess. She is, perhaps, the only reason you had gotten so far in the first place. 

A solid kick to the back of your knee and you find yourself brought to your knees. Cleaned with buckets of water, your wounds are also seen too. Bandaged and tired you are finally allowed to rest on your meager cot. You do not know how long you have been fighting in this arena, and to be honest, you don’t really care. 

Watching your God prepare for a hunt was one of the most exciting parts about serving under her. To hear her wisdom, to feel her confidence, it was one of the most honorable things to experience. If only she had stayed a bit longer, there was nothing she could do from her eye in the moon. 

Your cot is stiff as a board as you lie down. You have been here long enough to require your own cell and actual provisions. Having never lost a fight, you have gained a bit of a reputation among the slaves that have lasted long enough to see you in action. There is no sense of kinship or camaraderie in this place. All the better, you do not need to become attached to someone who will eventually die by your hand. 

She was a thing of beauty and chastity with the way she held herself. You and your sisters looked up to her. Striving to hold a small fraction of the confidence and beauty she inspired. Her teachings had always left you feeling accomplished. Her wisdom with the bow creating a small army of followers all armed. Those bows hadn’t saved you from the fire those men had caused. Hadn’t saved you from their dogs as they snapped at your ankles through the wagon. 

You are told that, eventually, you will have enough funds to buy yourself out of the ring. It's almost funny that your owners don’t realize you already know what happens to those who are close to leaving. Always struck down just before being able to. Every single time without fail they fall. And then, they have the gall to tell you that you only have a few more fights to go. At least they let you know of your soon to be death, perhaps you will see Keres, Lady Kristen, as she guides you to the otherworld. You will welcome her with open arms. There are many tales of her being beautiful. Her loyal crows are seen as harbingers of death if they linger too long. A ca-caw outside your barred window causes a rare smile to grace your lips. You used to think that crows were startling with their cadence. Now, you think of it as the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

You had taken pride in your long flowing hair. The care and maintenance it required made you quite vain about its beauty. Those men had paid no heed to your screams as they cut it shorter than it has ever been. Once long hair rendered down to barely an inch. The sight of it on the floor collected around you only causes more righteous anger. They eventually tied a strip of cloth around your mouth just to shut you up.

The moonlight gazes in from your barred window. You make no move to show yourself to a god you know is not watching. You lost your hope she would come long ago. Lost it in the first blood you spilled into the sand of that hell pit. While it is hell, it has become your new home. If these people denied your right to a death in your old home, they will be forced to accept your death in this new one.

You cannot speak, cannot eat, and cannot drink - as they have made sure of it. The fight you had put up against your captors wasn’t worth it. They have denied you meager offerings of food and water. The other women captured in the slave wagon get your portion. They do not look at you while they fight over your food. Reduced to nothing, all you can do is watch. 

You have watched many other slaves come and go from the arena. Many of those you cut down yourself in a bitter attempt to survive. Their features all blend in together and meet you for their revenge in your dreams. Sometimes, when you’re well and truly tired after a match, it's almost like you can hear them.

“Will we ever meet any other gods and goddesses, Lady Artemis?” One of your sisters asked. You and your sisters have only ever met Lady Artemis. Artemis stops attending to her bow, looking up you see a pensive look has overtaken her face. “Other gods and goddesses can be fickle. They can be much more cruel than I have ever been and ever will be. I would not seek out those you have not met before. Especially the gods who live and breathe violence. They will not be kind to you.” The garden goes quiet with her words. The sister that asked looks like she just bit into a lemon. Violence and bloodshed scares all of your sisters equally. They have not had to watch mortals be struck down by swords or illnesses, not in the way you have. 

With a bone deep weariness, you force yourself to stop thinking of the past. You think of these memories every day. Fighting for your life cannot even take away your attention from what was. There is no god that can save you - no peaceful one anyway. 

Drifting into sleep, you get the odd feeling that you are being watched.

[moonlitmosss]

Some techno doodles (from my au)

[rainystressed247]

More rainy-is-busy-so-they-have-to-compensate-with-old-art time!

Best big sister Niki!