#techno whump

[radios-arcade]

First art piece for a discord gift exchange :3

This one was for wombvle ^^

[whumpinggrounds]

So, This Is Christmas

Early Freddy and T! A bit late but it’s a Christmas comfort special ;)

CW: nothing! This is fluff.

Even before Freddy started working with T, his salary was ridiculous. Now, with the bonuses, and the overtime, and the extra that Granger calls discretion pay…

Well, now, looking at his bank account makes Freddy feel slightly sick.

He sends gifts to his friends, first. Some of the others are in software, making just as much as he does, but then there are the teachers, and the mechanical engineers, and those who majored in psychology and are still deciding what they want to do with it. It’s harder than Freddy expects, finding a balance between getting something nice and not spending so much that they’ll be uncomfortable, and at the end of it, Freddy still has too much left in his bank account. He scrolls through donation posts and uses up a good chunk of change that way, but it’s not what he really wants to do.

Like magnets, Freddy’s eyes are drawn to the bag he carried home from the mall last week. He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

But he’s already picking up his phone.

_

It’s Christmas morning, and Freddy is in the basement of his work. He could’ve gone to visit any number of friends, especially the childhood buddies who are more like family, but instead he’s here. The bag dangles from his hand, and Freddy ignores the sweatiness of his palms, the dampness across his forehead. He shouldn’t be nervous. He has no real reason to be nervous.

He’s nervous anyway.

The elevator shudders and creaks on its downward path, and Freddy shivers as the air grows colder. It may not snow here, but underground, he feels something like a winter chill. It’s doesn’t make anything feel festive, in a world of cement and spotless white walls. It’s just depressing. Freddy grips his bag tighter as he steps out of the elevator doors.

T is in his room when Freddy finds him, lying on his back with his eyes shut. Unsure if he’s asleep, Freddy hovers in the doorway, biting his lip. He’s just decided to set the bag down and maybe come back tomorrow when T speaks.

“Am I needed today?”

“Uh…what?”

“I was told that the team would be gone for a period of ten days, beginning on the twenty-third of December and ending on the second of January.” Now T sits up, the movement fluid and graceful, nothing wasted. He regards Freddy with a steady, brown-grey gaze. “Has that changed?”

“Um…no.”

It’s hard to describe what exactly changes when T hears that news. Freddy has been paying so much more attention to body language, to emotion, and so he knows to look for the shoulder slump, the downcast eyes, the downturned mouth. The relaxation of muscles that spells disappointment – Freddy doesn’t see it in T, but knows that it’s there nonetheless.

“I, um. Came to visit.” He cracks an awkward smile, and T, looking up at him, mirrors it cautiously. “I…I brought you something.”

The look on T’s face is new. It’s a tentative kind of confusion, totally unlike the professional inquisitiveness T shows when he doesn’t understand a command. This is something newer, more vulnerable. They’re both breaking new ground.

“I, um. Look, I…” Freddy sighs. “It’s Christmas, you know? I got you something.”

“For…Christmas?”

“Yeah. Sorry, do you, uh…know what that is?”

“Yes.” Freddy watches T’s face for emotion, but none shows. “I’m familiar with most major holidays. It was part of my basic education.”

Freddy swallows, wondering what ‘basic education’ means when he had to teach T the meaning of the word pain. “Have you, um…ever…celebrated it?”

The look on T’s face is blank, but Freddy thinks that if the man in front of him were only a little bolder, he might call Freddy an idiot to his face. “No, sir, I haven’t.”

“Freddy,” Freddy corrects gently. “Not sir, just…Freddy.”

T dips his head. “Freddy.”

The silence stretches, and finally Freddy can’t stand it anymore. Even his stupid little offerings have to be better than this endless, unbearable quiet. He reaches into the bag and withdraws the flat, thin package, thrusts it at T.

“I didn’t wrap it. I suck at wrapping things. Sorry.”

T looks at the box in his hands and then back up at Freddy, uncomprehending. Blush now crawling into his ears, Freddy clears his throat.

“It’s a tablet? It, um. I had to disable your, uh, Internet access. I’m sorry. Granger wouldn’t have approved it otherwise.”

Slowly, T nods, but Freddy can tell he still doesn’t know what’s going on. He takes a deep breath and makes himself blow it back out before he responds. This isn’t that bad. It’s just a conversation with…with…

A friend.

“So, it’s a, uh, screen thing. You can watch stuff on it? Or read. I downloaded some books and movies for you – a little of everything, and then when you, um, when you’re done, you can tell me what you like and I’ll get more of that?”

T looks down at the flat glass rectangle in his hands, and back up at Freddy. He looks blank, still, but now it’s from the shock.

“Here, I’ll-” Freddy sits down next to T and reaches across him for the tablet. Then he freezes, feeling the press of their legs together, his body so close to T’s. “Sorry. Sorry, uh, is this…okay?”

“Yes, Freddy, it’s fine.” T’s voice is smooth, steady. Their proximity doesn’t seem to affect him at all. “What were you going to show me?”

“Um – here.” Freddy clicks the tablet on. He shows T where he can watch movies, TV, or read books. He shows T how to write himself notes, or record voice memos, or draw in a rainbow of colors. He takes T through every function of this tablet – everything that doesn’t require Internet, that is – and never once does he worry about the price tag on the underside of the box the thing came in, the way he poured half of a bonus into the most expensive tablet he could buy.

Next to him, T’s expression doesn’t change. His breathing remains steady, and he doesn’t speak much, except to ask questions about this function or that. Freddy tells himself he doesn’t care whether T likes it; he’s glad he got him something. It’s Christmas, and the guy is sitting in a basement all alone, nothing to entertain him but some old gym equipment in the next room. If he uses the tablet, fine, and if he doesn’t, that’s fine too, and Freddy won’t take it personally, he won’t –

When T finally meets Freddy’s eyes, after they’ve gone through every app on the brand-new device, there’s a pause. Freddy watches T’s throat bob as he swallows.

“Thank you,” T tells him, and Freddy realizes with a funny lifting feeling in his chest that he doesn’t care about smiles or laughter or clapping hands, any outward expression of joy. T, overcome, looks just like this, and that is more than enough for Freddy.

“Merry Christmas.”

@stab-the-son-of-a, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @redwingedwhump, @ocean-blue-whump, @impalasexual, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @sadcatjae, @whump-cravings, @kawhump, @pumpkin-spice-whump, @winedark-whump, @whumpingmydarlings, @maracujatangerine​

[yeniihuenii]

3 years later and i still love to make him suffer

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Forever stuck in osmp era but specifically human!Techno and hybrid!everybody else that just hit different man

[towerofluin]

SBI Whumptober Day 9: Burn Wound & Day 12: Hiding an Injury

this was a very quick piece buuuuut its inspired by a conversation anarchy-and-piglins had a couple months ago (I think) about how techno would have been hurt in the blast at the red festival too, and how he didnt really have any allies at the time so he would have had to deal with it himself

[x-i-l-verify]

Complicated, indescribable Overrated, undeniable Tell yourself whatever you want to believe But your fate still lies in me I took your everything Took it for myself My enjoyment and no one else You’re mine…

Little bit of art for my DSMP vampire AU, where, among other things, c!BBH is owned by a vampiric c!Technoblade as a living food source (since they're both Netherborn and all). Bad... doesn't have a great time, let's just say.

[onesaltyerik]

I didn't see any fics yet of the duel Chayanne and Philza had so I made one.

Preview:

“Well then, brat. I see thou knowest the purpose of mine visit, clever one.” the man…puppet…mimicked Chayanne’s stance as he drew his own blade. A mockery of how Philza would have moved. 

“Perhaps if thine presence is such distraction for mine vassal’s purpose here,” Not-Philza’s head tilted the other way, clicking as bone shifted unnaturally against itself. “Then a culling is in due order.”  

Chayanne lunged. 

“Give me back my father you shit!” 

[cozy-kitty-corner]

SBI Whumptober day 10 - Guilt/Punishment/“this is what you deserve.” Really proud of this one, plus I made it for you @ruleofvee

It all started when Techno made the biggest mistake of his life.

It was his 18th birthday, so Dream had given him the present of his first field mission.

He’d had to track down a camping family, nobody important, and kill them.

It should have been no problem.

But when he actually had to do it, he’d hesitated.

He shouldn’t have, he knew that.

But when he saw the terror in the child’s eyes, he couldn’t hurt them.

They had already suffered, watching their parents be slaughtered in front of them.

(And he knew that fear shining in their eyes. Had felt it too many times to let the last thing the fledgling felt be the same all encompassing horror.)

So he let them free. Let them run, run faster than they ever had before.

He knew he would be punished if his mentor found out, but it couldn’t be that bad. Who would believe a five year old covered in blood that a bedraggled avian had attacked them from the forest and disappeared?

                     ————————

When Techno stumbled into the cave at dawn, looking significantly worse for wear, Dream was waiting for him.

(The pinkette ignored the voice in the back of his head, searching for any ounce of pride in Techno’s success.

There was none.)

Instead, there was- anger?

Techno only understood when Dream held up a feather that unmistakably matched that of the boy he had spared.

And that’s when he realized he was in for it.

The masked man twirled the feather between two fingers.

“Care to explain this?”

Techno- okay listen. Techno knew what he was about to do was probably the shittiest decision he’d ever made. But it was better than immediately owning up to a crime Dream might not quite understand yet.

(He should have known.)

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Dream simply tilted his head.

“You don’t know anything about the boy one of my men had to kill? The boy from the very family you were sent to kill? Interesting. Very interesting, indeed.”

Shit.

Techno bowed his head, waiting for the lecture.

“Why. Why would you do this, Techno? I thought you were trying to be good. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, because when you’re good, we’re both happy. I just want you to be happy, but it feels like you’re resisting everything I do. Why can’t you do better?”

And Techno snapped. “I tried! I always try, but it’s never enough for you!”

Dream snarled, and flicked his sword faster than Techno could see.

Then, thick pink locks fell to the ground, all of their grace lost the instant they were shorn from Techno’s head.

The pinkette only gaped at his mentor, one hand tentatively coming up to feel where his braid had come loose, pastel hair hanging down in a rough cut around Techno’s head.

“How could you?” His voice started as a whisper, but before he knew it, Techno had started yelling. “Why would you do that!? You know how much work, how much care I put into my hair, and you just- took it away! What is wrong with-

And the avian was on his back, air leaving his lungs with a *woosh* as a boot pressed into his chest.

Dream’s mask sneered down at him, and Techno had never wanted anything more than to rip the stupid thing off of his face and grind it to dust.

“You yelled at me. You showed me disrespect, you lost your restraint on your beastly nature, and you tried to spare someone during a raid. You know exactly why I did that, and you know that it was a justifiable punishment. You did this to yourself, Blade. I expect better next time.”

It took every ounce of Techno’s self control to not shrink in on himself, a horribly familiar sense of fear creeping in as he stammered.

“I-I’m sorry, Dream, I won’t do it again, I promise!”

Dream simply scoffed and turned away.

Techno scrambled up, wings fight to his back, mangled feathers tangling.

Just before he exited the room, he spoke over his shoulder.

And the quiet disappointment in his voice was worse than any anger, any other punishment that Dream could have doled out.

“This is what you deserve.”

And, Dream was right, wasn’t he? Everything he did, he did to help Techno. He had dedicated his whole life into avenging the tyranny of Techno’s parents, for Prime’s sake!

And Techno just made that harder. The avian circumvented his rules, didn’t try hard enough, made stupid mistakes that he knows better than to make.

The pinkette falls to his knees, barely resisting curling his wings around him for comfort.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. You couldn’t even follow a simple order, on your first job too.

With a sigh, Techno resolved himself to being in the little metal room he had entered the facilities in for a long while.

(Only what he deserved.)

[cherryskeletoncake]

Aww your ctechno it's so cute, he loves his parthers and Friends so much. No matter which one is they're lucky to have him

Thank you anon <3

One of my personal goals when i draw techno is to draw him mostly happy/eger/sappy/nutural (or any 'positive' emotion) because i can't bear to see my favorite borb sad 😔 i have to leave that to someone stringer than me💪

[greaterspawnislands]

after like six months lol, new gilded mockery chapter. advance warning for whump in this fic! it’s definitely more intense than my whumptober last month, so just be aware if you choose to read this fic! further warnings are in the tags, please read them!

[radios-arcade]

Or maybe what if Techno in a collar 👉👈

The co-rulers of the world have been yoinked

[whumpinggrounds]

Nonstandard Response

The events that inspired this and later, this

CW: male whumpee, male whumper, nonhuman whumpee, threats, hitting, references to past abuse, power dynamics, team whump

Wagner is treating Freddy differently. The first few days, T isn’t sure. Freddy hasn’t mentioned it, and T isn’t the best at judging relationships, the way people interact with each other. He resorts to data. It’s reliable, familiar, something that he’s an expert in. Usually, T has to tune out endless streams of data, all the extra that’s coded into him. Now, finally, he has a use for it.

Wagner’s words and sentences are thirty percent shorter when he speaks to Freddy. His voice is higher and has a more nasal quality. Mocking, T has heard it called. Wagner bumps into Freddy with two hundred percent more frequency than any other member of the team, and he never apologizes when he does it. As soon as he starts paying attention, T sees, hears, analyzes these things automatically. Unconsciously. Data sets and tables begin to tabulate in his head.

After two days of watching, he turns his attention to Freddy. Freddy’s voice is lower when he speaks to Wagner. He speaks to him twenty-eight percent less than the other members of the team. And Freddy’s sentences are forty percent shorter when he speaks to Wagner, as compared to the rest of the team.

It’s neither here nor there, but as he’s calculating results, T notes that Freddy spends the highest percentage of time talking to him. Twelve percent more than any other member of the team. It’s true the other way around too – no one spends as much time talking to T as Freddy does, not by a long shot.

And though it’s easy, effortless, and automatic as a thought, T doesn’t run the numbers on how much he talks to Freddy. He knows, already, that it’s much more than he wants to think about.

The point is that Wagner is treating Freddy worse, and T doesn’t know why. He’s just about resolved to ask Freddy about it – out of curiosity, no other reason. Then, though, Wagner gets in the way, and he forces T’s hand.

It’s just the three of them in T’s room. He’s been running mazes all day, and now Wagner is here for final data collection and Freddy is here…here just because. T ends most of his days with Freddy, lately. Neither of them talks about why.

With the hostile presence of Wagner in the room, they don’t speak. It’s mostly Wagner ordering Freddy around as he downloads data from the port in T’s arm and the port in his chest and the port in the back of his neck, right at the base of his spine. “It’s so fucking annoying that there are three of these,” he gripes, more to himself than anyone else. “We need to make this universal. And hook up Bluetooth.”

Neither Freddy nor T respond to that, but then, they’re not supposed to. Wagner is angry with Freddy, apparently, and to this particular tech, T is as inanimate as the tablet screen where the data uploads.

Or, today, actually, fails to upload. An error messages flashes on screen, showing that the port in T’s chest has failed its job for the third time. It’s the oldest part of T’s body hardware, and none of them are surprised it’s failing. Least of all T – he’s been feeling creaks, hiccups, little electrical jolts for months. The whole lung problem was example enough. He’s in desperate need of a full firmware and software upgrade, the thought of which makes him shiver.

Wagner doesn’t take the time to consider the vast implications of the failed data upload. Instead, he jerks the cord out of T’s chest so fast T gasps. “Goddammit!”

“Hey!” Freddy whips around from whatever he’s doing, coiling up cords or some other inane, time-consuming housekeeping task that’s far below his paygrade. “Be careful!”

It’s fine, T wants to tell him. The cord ripping out makes the port jerk unpleasantly in his chest. The pull translates across his skin and also deeper, jolting wires that shift organic matter, or even connect directly to it. The entire process feels weird and sickening and wrong, and not a little painful. But it is fine. Nothing is damaged.

There’s no time to tell Freddy that, because Wagner is already whirling on him, eyes alight, lip pulled back in a snarl. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do, asshole. You don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.” He throws the tablet down on T’s cot and takes a step forward, thrusting his chest into Freddy’s space. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Jesus, man, back off-”

Wagner shoves him, hard. “I said, don’t tell me what to do!”

He draws his hand back, like he’s going to hit Freddy. And Freddy, Freddy flinches, like he knows what’s coming. Like this has happened before.

And T is in motion. He’s in motion before he knows what’s going on, the kind of automatic movement that’s usually prompted by electric pulses from Dr. Pool, or lines of code written by Layla. He stands and strides forward and he catches Wagner’s wrist in his hand and holds it in a grip like iron. All of it fluid, immediate, and breathtakingly fast.

From over Wagner’s shoulder, Freddy’s wide eyes fix on T. He looks more upset than he did before, and inside T, that feels wrong.

Watching Wagner hit Freddy would’ve felt more wrong.

“What the fuck-” Wagner tries to jerk his arm away and fails, “-are you doing to me, robot? What the hell?”

T’s voice, when it comes, is monotone. His eyes when Wagner scans them, furious, are blank. “Staff are not permitted to act violently towards each other excepting special permission circumstances. Directive eight-four-nine-two-alpha-”

“Okay, okay, shut up.” Wagner pulls away again, and once again, T’s iron fingers fail to release him. Wagner grinds his teeth and glares. “T, let me go.”

His fingers don’t unlock easily, but T lets him go. Wagner is calmer now. Moving slower again. He rubs his wrist as though it’s hurt, although T feels certain he didn’t squeeze that hard. Shouldering Freddy out of the way, Wagner stalks toward the door. “Finish the fucking upload yourself,” he snaps, without turning around, and slams the door as hard as he can as he leaves.

Still facing T, Freddy jumps when the door hits the frame. He’s tense, and T can tell from the pulse jumping in his throat that his heart rate has accelerated. “You’re nervous.”

“Huh?”

“Accelerated pulse rate. Muscle tension. Feelings of anxiety as measured by facial expression. Outsize reaction to stimulus.” T lists the symptoms and watches understanding dawn on Freddy’s face. “You told me that means someone is nervous.”

The smile on Freddy’s face is forced. “Yeah. Yeah, T, I, uh, I guess I am nervous. I…Wagner…is just…I don’t like when people get angry like that. I really…really don’t like when people get violent.”

T feels his own heart rate accelerate. “Has Wagner been violent with you before?”

There are symptoms of something besides nervousness taking place in the body. T ignores them, focuses on Freddy, on his answer.

“It’s more about other people than it is Wagner.” Freddy shrugs, and T doesn’t miss the way he’s dodging the question. “And this time, I was also nervous…I was also nervous…” He lets his breath out in a big sigh. Shakes his head. “T, I don’t think you should, um, get involved like that. I don’t want Wagner to take his anger out on you.”

“I’m designed to perform under stress,” T points out. “You…” he feels a foreign warmth in his cheeks. “You aren’t.”

At that, Freddy finally laughs. T likes the sound, and the way Freddy tips his head back. He likes the way Freddy’s hair flops in his face, and the way he shakes his head, and the way he sits next to T to plug a cord into his chest port.

“I’m going to regret asking this,” he mutters, so quietly that T hardly hears him.

“Then don’t ask.”

“What?” Freddy glances up, startled, at T. Then his face cracks open in a wide, disbelieving grin. “You’re very literal, you know that?”

“Yes?”

“All right.” Freddy leans in close as he plugs the cord into T’s chest port. Closer than he needs to, so he can whisper, quiet as can be, words the cameras on the walls won’t pick up. “Is there actually a protocol – a program – the one you were talking about, to Wagner? To keep him from hurting me?” He hangs there for a moment, though he has no reason to, next to T’s ear. “Sign the answer. Don’t…don’t say it out loud.”

T complies. He keeps his eyes fixed on Freddy’s face, because he wants to see the tech’s expression when he signs No.

  @whumptober, @whumptober-archive

@stab-the-son-of-a, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @redwingedwhump, @ocean-blue-whump, @impalasexual, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @sadcatjae, @whump-cravings, @kawhump, @pumpkin-spice-whump, @winedark-whump, @whumpingmydarlings, @maracujatangerine​

[yeniihuenii]

a littol rendering practicege

[lildevyl]

Whumptober Day 1: Cage/Unconventional Restraints

DSMP Fae AU

Summary:  Tommy’s parents are well renowned Hunters.  Capture and kill many Mythical/Magical Creatures and freeing countless Villages.  They’re latest hunt came up with something more dangerous than anything before.  The Winter Court’s Royal Son, the Blood God.

Based on A Blessing Bestowed by just_arandomfangirl and The Perils of Being Kind by Poker

TW: Caging, Hunting, Dehumanizing, Fae AU, Magic AU

I think I got them all!

It was an hour or two after sunrise when Tommy made his way downstairs for breakfast and realized that something was amidst.  It wasn’t the fact that every time Tommy saw his reflection in the hallway mirror that the morning sun made his hair look like spun gold.  Or his eyes tend to look like sapphire gemstones or that -

Alright Tommy, stop that!  You’re human!  Clearly that encounter with the last fae has you rattled!  You’re human not fae.  Tubbo’s fine!  He’s in the most guarded part of the Hunter’s Academy.  Right?  Right.

As Tommy made his way to the Kitchen the smell of waffles and pancakes filled the air.  As Tommy entered the Kitchen his suspicion that something was terribly wrong just been confirmed.  His Mom was on the stove making waffles, a plate full of stack of pancakes was on the table, fruit bowl full, eggs and bacon were on the table as well.  Yep something was definitely up!  Tommy’s Mom only did this when there was bad news.  It was her way of trying to “lighten the load” of the bad news so it didn't hit so hard when it came.

The only thing that Tommy could think of for why his Mom would be doing this was if they got Tubbo.  The Autumn King of the Fae Court took an interest in Tubbo and has been trying to get Tubbo to be his son.  If his Mom was making Waffles and Pancakes then that could only mean one thing.

“Please tell me the bastard didn’t get Tubbo?”  Tommy begged as he sat down at the table.

“No,” his Mom answered, turning around with a plate of Waffles and putting them on the table.  “Tubbo is fine as far as we know.”

“Then what’s with the Waffles and Pancakes?!”  Tommy demanded.  He knew that if it wasn’t because of bad news then it was something major and this was some kind of bribe.

Both his parents shared a look before his father continued.  “Well, son, since what has happened with Tubbo and from what we were able to capture in our last hunt.  We think you are more than ready for Field Training.”

Tommy whooped!  He’s been stuck at home for so long making charms and weapons that it was about time his parents thought that he was ready!  Tommy just turned sixteen, so he was pumped and ready to go hunting with his parents and help save lives!

“So, what am I going to do then?  And what is the news?”  Tommy wasn’t a child; he knew a tasty bribe when he saw one.  If Tubbo was truly safe and sound at the Hunter’s Academy then what would his parents need him to do?

His parents shared a look with another that Tommy didn’t know how to decipher on what it meant.  “I think it would be better to show you.”  His Mother sighed at the look and noise of protest his father gave.  “It’s the only way that he’ll understand fully!  We trust you Toms and this is going to be the biggest thing we put you in charge of.”

Tommy gapped at his parents.  The biggest thing that he would be in charge of?  Holy shit, holy shit!  He’s really going on a Hunting trip with his parents?!  Oh fuck yeah!

“Then hurry up and let’s go see it!”  Tommy said, shoving the last piece of waffles in his mouth before remembering to chew and then swallow.

“Before we go, do you have red clothing?”  Tommy rolled his eyes gesturing to his sleeves and the sides of his favorite shirt.  “And cold iron?  Salt?  Clover?  Golden flowers?”

“Yes, yes, and yes!”  Making a frown appear on his father’s face.  “And what feels like nearly every single protection charm there is in this house.”

Tommy started to trace the patterns in the wooden table readying himself for the umbteenth lecture that he knew he would be getting when he said this.  “We just want to make sure that you're safe!  A Hunter’s Child can and will be seen as a major trophy to the Fae!  This will be very tricky and quite dangerous but we trust you with this.”

Tommy nodded his head with a grimace.  That was one of the reasons why Tubbo was sought after.  The Autumn King saw Tubbo when Tubbo first got introduced into Field Training.  At first Tubbo thought it was just some traveler that he wanted to try and scam some goods off of but still give the guy some actually decent charms.  The Autumn King saw how clever Tubbo was and when he found out that he was the son of some of the most pronounced Hunters.  Well, the Autumn King instantly took an interest in Tubbo.

It was also why Tommy had to stay in the cabin when his parents and several witches went around the property line to draw, carve and activate every single protection charm and spell that they could think of!  And why Tommy was specifically restricted to stay within the property lines where the protection is the strongest.  The protection charms and spells were on the property lines but the house itself was enclosed in protection charms and magic as well.  It would literally take a Royal Fae to break through them.  But even then they would be severely weakened.

“I’m ready!  I’ll be safe, I promise.  Those Fae won’t know what hit them!”  Tommy exclaimed.

His Mother gave a small laugh.  “I’m sure they won’t!  Finish your breakfast then we’ll be heading to the Bunker!”

The Bunker?  The Bunker was where all the charms, protection spells, weapons, cages, chains and even specially made magically infused cuffs were made.  The cuffs were literally a magic suppressor.  Put them on the thing and their powers are severely weakened to useless.  Tommy never saw them be put to use, but he had heard a story from a fellow Hunter that went to save a Seaside Town from a bunch of Sirens and had used the cuffs to trap one.  What could his parents have caught that they needed to use the Bunker for?

Tommy quickly finished his breakfast, scarfing down the eggs and bacon and even finishing off a few pieces of fruit.  He pushed his chair back and followed his parents out the door.  Tommy shivered slightly when the cold mountain air hit him.

Another reason why Tubbo was taken to the Academy.  It was late Autumn and the first frost would be coming soon.  Autumn and Winter.  Two Courts that coincide with one another, allies with each other.  There have been rumors that the Winter Court’s Prince Siren is actually friends with the Autumn King himself.  But there hasn't been anything found to back that up.  Tommy just prayed that Tubbo will be okay and once they find the Autumn King then Tommy could rest easy knowing that the threat was taken care of.

Tommy followed his parents to the Bunker.  The Bunker was an underground sanctuary to get to it.  You have to walk a ways from the house towards the wood where there were wooden doors sticking out of the ground that would remind you of Cellar Doors.

“Why here?”  Tommy asked.

“This one required a lot more measures to be taken,” his Mother said, pulling a chain from her neck revealing a key made of cold iron.

His Mother took the key and put on the padlock on the Bunker and then removed the chains and the heavy iron bar latch.  When that was done, his parents led him down the steps.  The further down they went Tommy couldn’t help but shiver at the cold.  He knew Winter was weeks away but it felt like it had just come in the Bunker.  Tommy’s Father stopped in front of a very complicated looking door.  It was made out of iron and there were so many runes, intricate patterns and many, many, many, symbols and charms that Tommy recognized carved, raised, woven, and literally part of the actual door itself.

“This Tommy is where your training begins!”  His father smiled proudly at him.  “So, I want you to step up here.  Now, to enter the Bunker you need to press these runes and charms in a very specific order.  Like so.”  His father then showed Tommy the order that he had to put in.  

The Runes glowed and Tommy could feel the magic from the runes and charms.  One of them was a Reveal Charm.  It was used to Reveal the person's true identity but it can also reveal any charms, spells and enchantments that one might be under or have on them.  It was really a way to see if anyone was under any spell or mind control and know how to combat it.

There was a buzz that sounded like bees and a click then the door opened slightly.  Tommy’s Father grabbed the handle and pulled the door open all the way and went in first.

“Now, son before we go any further I must warn you that you must be at the top of your game and you must tread with the utmost caution.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Good now follow.”

Tommy’s Father in front led the way, with Tommy right behind and his Mother bringing up the rear.  Tommy couldn’t help but shiver more down here.  He noticed that the temperature must have dropped ten or so degrees from what it was up above the bunker.  Tommy also notices a very light layer of frost covering the floor of runes.  They came to the center of the room where they have their cages and Tommy nearly toppled over.

In the center of the room was a salt circle that was about ten centimeters wide all around the outside of the runes that were carved into the floor.  On top of the runes that the Salt Circle was surrounding was the biggest  iron cage Tommy has ever seen.  The bars were about as big as his wrist, the shackles and chains were as big as Tommy’s fists.  But what caught Tommy’s attention the most was the pair of Power Suppressor Cuffs that Tommy had just made last month but never had the chance to test, it.

Tommy also noticed a layer of frost covered the chains and runes like it was trying to turn it to ice.  But what caught Tommy’s attention the most and why he nearly toppled over was what was actually in the cage.

Did his parents have a goddamn death wish?!  There sitting in the middle of the cage was none other than the second son of the Winter Court.  The most feared Fae Warrior of all.  The Blood God, Technoblade.

*****

@weirdmixofweirdness, @10ths-writing-corner, @tracobuttons, @a-humble-narcissus, @whumptober

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Thinking about human!Techno on osmp again tonight. I love bunnyblade a lot, but 'just a guy human!Techno who somehow got adopted into a hybrid commune' is such a banger and I miss content revolving around that...

[towerofluin]

I'm working on sbi whumptober and I'm worried I'm being too ambitious. I've got two comics done, another one sketched out and two more short ones planned, plus some individual pieces that I want to do on top of that. the comic I'm on now is the most complex and I'm trying to not burn myself out but I'm also pushing to get it done and eugh