Dream Smp Oneshots

Withered

(Technoblade X Reader)

Request: Request 1: Technoblade succumbs to the voices and accidentally hurts the reader

     -requested By: Anonymous

~~~

Everyone had good days and bad days, recently Technoblade's life had more of those good days thanks to a certain woman who entered his world. She came in like a whirlwind, messing with his emotions to a point which he never dreamed would be possible. When Phil introduced her to him a few years ago, he thought nothing of the women at first. She was ballsy, matching his sarcasm and snark immediately after meeting him. Not to mention beautiful in his opinion, he thought that might be why Phil kept her around at first. Then he saw her metal working abilities and the weapons she created and he fell hard. Especially when he saw the things she could do with gold, god one day when she visited him covered head to toe in gold jewelry...Techno almost jumped her that day. Even if he didn't fully understand his feelings at the time Phil knew something was up with his mild-mannered friend. He had to break it to Techno in an awkward conversation that spanned twenty minutes that he might have a crush on the girl. Technoblade laughed in his face at the suggestion, it took a raised eyebrow and another visit from her where she was dripping gold that he finally figured out what exactly Phil meant by a crush.

It took another year of him only falling harder for you to finally ask you on your first date. Now here they were years later completely enamored with one another, though Technoblade was less likely to show it. He was forever the stoic protector but he melted under your touch, the tough man was wrapped around your gold-clad fingers.

Today, however, was a rare bad day.

To start it off, Technoblade slept in later than he would've liked and woke up with a splitting headache. The voices which were usually a constant hum, sometimes making snide or unhelpful comments were screaming in his ear. Techno tried to fight it, he did. He tried to think of anything else other than the sweet taste of blood and the beautiful sight of gore tainting the white snow outside. He tried to think of your hands caressing his face, or the sweet smell of pomegranates and oak wood that he came to associate with you. Technoblade pressed his palms to his closed eyes and rubbed them in a circle, trying desperately to release the built-up pressure. He let out a puff of air through his nose. As he opened his eyes his pupils shrunk considerably, and they glazed over. Techo's usual sharp senses felt dull and muddled especially his smell. All he heard was the thousands of voices that demanded blood, immediately needing to be satiated lest he wished to lose himself fully to them. Through their screaming, he heard shuffling downstairs someone was in his house, an intruder. A snarl erupted from his throat as he tore the down comforter away from his body, shredding it in the process sending chicken feathers flying everywhere.

He tore his cape from its resting place and connected it across his shoulders, he took his sword from its place on the wall. Technoblade gripped the weapon so tight his knuckles turned white, the voices only increasing in their restlessness and volume as he made contact with the sword. They knew blood was near and was about to be spilled. He slid down the ladder effortlessly and into his kitchen, the smell of bread was seemingly so strong it assaulted his dulled nostrils. Narrowing his eyes he noticed movement in the kitchenette,

A figure stood there seemingly unbothered by his presence, the voices demanded blood and who was he to deny them their sacrifice.

Bottles and plates fell to the floor and shattered as he charged at the figure. He knocked over the table and more things thudded to the ground, in his wake. The person stumbled back but it didn't matter, Technoblade would catch them and gut them for even thinking about entering his home. He pulled his sword back a deep growl rumbling in his throat, the person let out a sound and Technoblade put his hand around their throat. Squeezing down, successfully cutting off their airflow, the hands reached up and he felt their nails dig into the skin of his hand. He only smiled wider as the voices urged him to continue, loving the way the intruder was wiggling and desperate against his hand. Even as he felt blood pool on his own hand from their fingernails he still had satisfaction in seeing them suffer. The figure was completely and utterly at the piglins mercy, he lifted them into the air seeing their legs begin to kick out as they dangled. Technoblade leaned forward, thousands of voices chanted the same phrase in his head,