Vwoop - Technoblade and Ranboo

15

The sound of crying from outside his room wakes Technoblade up one night. The hybrid knows well that it isn't coming from the enderling that accompanies him, who miraculously sleeps next to him during the night this time. So he finally seems to be adjusting to a daytime schedule with a relatively deep sleep at night. Lucky him.

The constant white noise of drops against the glass and roof lets him know that it is raining outside. A heavy and intense rain, which he easily classifies as a storm.

A new stifled sob makes Technoblade frown in confusion. The crying sounds like a creature older than a baby, it sounds like a small child, less demanding and more distressed. He can hear pain in the screams. The piglin wonders if it is coming from the daughter of the youngest avian, who, now that he thinks about it, Technoblade doesn't really remember ever hearing, speaking or complaining. But the crying has an accent he's rarely heard, something like... bleating?

Technoblade gets up to investigate, not wanting to be too obvious with his curiosity and sneaks as quietly as he can from the room, careful not to wake the baby in the crib. He doesn't have time to deal with him now, when he wants to find out what the fuss is about before he goes back to bed. That doesn't stop him from pausing to pry the white thumb out of the baby's mouth. Stubborn child.

For a two meters creature trying to sneak up over a wooden floor… is not easy, but Technoblade has his tactics. He is as stealthy as his dimensions allow him to be. His hooves inevitably echo on the planks, but the cries and sobs of the child outside, along with the dull patter of the rain against the house work well to cover his steps. The hybrid can hear the familiar voices of the winged father and son, exchanging worried words as he moves to the end of the hall. The main room is barely lit by the flames of a couple of candles and Technoblade peeks around the corner of the wall, he hopes, hidden enough by the shadows.

Wilbur is on his feet, looking through the chests and drawers, walking around the room with a lantern in his hand so he can illuminate the corners that the candlelights don't reach. And in one of the dining room chairs Philza is sitting, with a child in his arms. The one responsible for the ruckus that woke Technoblade up. Fluffy, slightly curly brown hair and pale peach skin, its clothes and all of it in general looking soaked and dirty, probably after spending a considerable amount of time under the heavy rain and having tripped and fallen at least once on the damp earthy soil. The creature has a rather human appearance, it even looks like Wilbur. If it weren't for the pair of long ears that stick out from between its hair locks and fall to the sides of its head, and the bleating that escapes with its cries. A yeanling.

(Although the incompatibility of species and lack of resemblance doesn't seem to be an issue when it comes to blood ties in this family. The kid could well still be Wilbur's. His daughter is a ginger fox, for hell's sake.)

The child doesn't look older than the brunet's daughter, if Techno had to guess he would estimate its age on about two years, but again he has never been good with time measurements. He is still not clear on the age of the enderling in his room.

"Did he get here all by himself?" Techno can hear the older man ask his son, gently cradling the kid on his chest, who at last seems to begin to calm down, though it's still crying. For the first time, Technoblade sees Philza without his hat, his light hair disheveled, apparently after just getting out of bed, his dark wings folded behind him. The piglin manages to smell a hint of blood in the air.

Wilbur finally finds what he is looking for, returning to the table and sitting next to his father, handing him what appears to be a roll of white bandages, placing a box on the table; probably a first aid kit. Technoblade can see that the kid's arm is slightly covered in blood and most notably covered in dirt.

"I don't think so. It's impossible that he could have gotten here from his house. It's too far, and he would never have remembered the way. Maybe Schlatt was bringing him... do you think something could have happened to them while they were coming here?"

The man doesn't reply, busy cleaning the right arm of the lamb on his lap, softly shushing his whimpers as he uses a cloth to wipe the blood and dirt from his skin, disinfecting with experience and ignoring the cries of pain with trained stoicism, finally beginning to bandage the small injured forearm.

Wilbur leans slightly toward the creature once Philza's job is done, speaking in a soft but serious tone. "Tubbo, did you come here alone? Do you know where your dad is?"

The yeanling sniffles and shakes his head negatively. It's not clear if the gesture is in response to one or both questions.

"Wil, leave him alone. The poor thing must be exhausted and terrified."

"Dad, I just want to know what's going on! We need to know what the hell happened to make him end up in our house, alone and injured in the middle of a storm."

As if for emphasis, the booming of thunder echoes overhead, startling even the piglin hybrid, who takes a moment to pray that the enderling in the crib remains asleep. The child on the avian's lap whines terrified at the loud sound, pressing himself against Philza, and Wilbur jumps up from the table after hearing the roar in the sky. His expression is one of determination and deep concern in equal parts.

"I can't just sit here, I have to go see if he's okay. Maybe he's hurt somewhere out there." The young man moves quickly in the direction of the door, about to open it when the voice of his father stops him.

"Wilbur Soot, you're not going anywhere. Do you want to be struck by lightning?" The man exclaims in a stern voice, combing the slightly curly hair of the lamb sniffling and blinking languidly against his sleep shirt. "We are going to take care of Tubbo tonight and in the morning we will go find out what is happening. The only thing you would accomplish by going out now would be to soak your wings and probably serve as a lightning rod. You won't even be able to take flight in this storm and you sure as hell won't be able to find anything under these conditions."

The young man seems to be debating whether to obey or to continue with his announcement, lantern in hand and standing in front of the door with his wings slightly spread, preparing to take flight; but he finally decides to abide to Philza's order, moving away from the door and closing his wings, returning to the table and looking at the toddler in the elder's arms, with an hint of anguish in his eyes. The man looks up at his son, his expression softening at the concern on his face.

"Go get a couple of blankets to dry him off and keep him warm, and do you think any of Flora's clothes will fit him? We can't leave him in these wet and dirty rags."

Wilbur nods silently, starting to walk out of the room and towards the bedrooms. Towards Technoblade.

When the piglin realizes where his trajectory is going, he rushes back to his own room as quickly and quietly as he can, closing the door behind him and hoping he hadn't been seen. He has no real reason for wanting to be so discreet, it's not like he has discovered some obscure, terrible thing or something like that, but he knows that whatever is happening outside it's not something that concerns him. They know the lamb and from what he sees, they know its parents as well, surely the other name mentioned is one of these. It obviously is a family situation or something like that, in which he does not belong.

Technoblade returns to his bed, stopping at the crib to check that the enderling is still asleep and not sucking on his thumbs. Indeed, as if the rain was lulling him, his relaxed posture, with both hands at the sides of his head, and his soft sighs while he rests almost make Technoblade feel jealous as he witnesses the placidity of his sleep. Well, a heavy sleeper, he can imagine that is the fantasy of many parents. Not like he knows anything about it, of course. He wouldn't know what it's like to be a parent.

Shaking his head, disappointed in his own ideas and how these kinds of thoughts continue to creep into his mind, Technoblade lays back down on the mattress. He can still hear movement and the voices of the two men, distant and muffled by the distance and the walls.

Technoblade assumes that tomorrow will be a considerably more interesting day than usual.

So now there's yet another kid in the house... oh hell.

Also, apparently the brunet avian's full name is Wilbur Soot. Huh.

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

Little bee boi is here 🥰