Far Beyond Fixing (Dark SBI)

Chapter One

A/N

The rehabilitated villain fic :DD shoutout to Zelken and Centaur for betaing this for me and being so kind :D love you guys /p

long story short, the first part will be 4 chapters which leads up to the big rehabilitation part (i got a little distracted with twinsduo brainrot lmao) and is entirely prewritten so updates will be every thursday, some biweekly if im feeling nice lmao

please read the trigger warnings throughout this fic! while it isnt as much dark sbi as WHLT or my oneshot collection, it still has dark content and graphic violence <3 be safe

TWs: graphic violence, panic attacks, ptsd, mind control (lmk if i forget any!) 

enjoy!

Synopsis: Technoblade has lived his life as a bloodthirsty villain, controlled by the manipulative voices in his head. When he is finally apprehended by the heroes, the sbi league decide rehabilitation is the only way to save him--regardless of the secrets behind their identities

or, the long-awaited techno rehabilitated villain fic

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The voices in Techno's head had always sung for violence.

It was a haunting tune; a siren call that took control of his limbs when they shook in fear. A constant lullaby that possessed his logical thoughts and twisted them in a rope, tightening them around the childish empathy he still clutched to his chest. A noose to his love, his trust, his freedom .

And, even while he tried to fight it, it was an unbeatable force. Even when he screamed and cried, even while burying his head under the flimsy pillow on his bed and clenching his hands so tightly they bled, it didn't dare surrender. Like a lizard, it only regrew what Techno was strong enough to fight against; a never ending battle of endurance he always bore the brunt of. Every small victory he had, tossing his child's scissors across the room when they told him to cut and tear with them, it only came back with a new vigor. Pick up the knife, they cooed. Stab. Kill. Sacrifice .

But, at his young age, he was still strong .

Techno fought . For all the Gods that never dared to look at him– at their mistake – he fought.

But, in the orphanage, surrounded by other children that took glee in laughing at his mistakes and critiquing his every flaw, his loneliness fueled their rampant assault.

When he was ten years old, Techno was thrown into a fit of erratic screams that made his head pound and his eyes turn into a deep crimson. No matter how many locks he kept on his door, no matter how much he cried and whimpered under his favorite blanket– the one with tiny, fluffy piglets– they didn't relent .

The voices in his head pinned his empathy to the ground, pressing its knee into his ribs until it shattered like glass.

And when the one thing holding you back, when the final thread of rope that kept you suspended over a spiral, snapped -

There was nothing to do but listen.

He picked up the safety scissors. Let the voices whisper to him.

Tear through their heart.

Drink their blood.

Kill.

Be complete.

Let his gaze fall over the other children nearby, taking note of the ones that had hurt him, that had angered the voices - that had angered him -