𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜

and i stare at you (like i'm looking through a window, counting birds). [t.s]

sapnoblade for DOBDSUwU!! i hope you enjoy this <3

tried my hand at a 5 + 1 type beat thing because ive been obsessing over those kind of fics for two weeks now :)

fic title from ;; the poem seaside improvement from richard siken

cw/tws ;; cw for mildly vague descriptions of injuries

pairing ;; technoblade/sapnap

prompt ;; the five times sapnap calls technoblade a petname and the one time technoblade says something.

final word count ;; 5.77k

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techno sighs, heaving himself up from his bed, the red comforter having been set aside hours prior. he's exhausted, purple stains under his eyes and body surprisingly untense for once, though it doesn't last long.

unfocused pupils suddenly sharpen, eyes narrowed and scanning over the stolen room. he isn't surprised to see the villager he'd taken the house from lingering outside, but what does catch his eye is tan skin and a smug smile, a white headband and that stupid fire insignia emblazoned on his shirt.

"techno, nice to see ya. catch." his reflexes kick in quicker than he'd awakened, snatching the apple out of the air before it could make contact with his face.

"what's this for?" he asks, puzzled, and sapnap laughs raucously, then cuts himself off abruptly as he realises techno isn't joking. the dumbass.

"for you to eat, idiot. you've been camping out here for a few days and i haven't seen you eat once." techno snorts, but bites into the sweet apple nonetheless, its saccharine juices making his mouth water more as it suddenly occurs to him how hungry he is. "you up for a spar later? it'd probably be good for you to get out, y'know."

"you're not my dad." he mutters monotonically, but shrugs. "sure. noon?"

"yeah, that works. i'll see ya there, sweetheart." he hears sapnap's footsteps leaving, the door opens and closes, and only then does the petname register.

it's strange; sapnap has never called him a petname before, and though it could have been accidentally, he still can't deny the way his brain malfunctions as he replays it over and over again in his head. the feelings he's feeling are foreign but comfortable, warm and washing over him like waves crash against sand on the shoreline, like the sunset brushing against his fingertips and the tree's leaves as it sinks into the ground.

he finishes the apple and grabs his cobalt blade, his cape flowing behind him as he leaves the house to its old owner. he'll think about it later; right now, he's got a duel to win.

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it's a cold thursday evening, the sun setting on the horizon and painting the sky a mix of cerulean, violet, and orange, and technoblade is restless (he always is, but that's unimportant).

the cave's howls call to him, not unlike the tempting song of a siren, and he grabs his iron pickaxe from where it rests in his double-chest, taking one lingering look at his sleeping acquaintances before he slips away from the campsite. tension is rising in their small ranks - george and dream have been arguing, refusing to talk to each other, sapnap spends most of his time away from everyone else, wilbur is cracking and techno doesn't even want to think about tubbo and tommy.

he shakes his head and continues to give into the cave's wishes, venturing through the stone gates, his pickaxe scraping against the floor sharply. the sound doesn't bother techno, not as much as it did when he first began mining, but it is rather loud and he purses scarred lips, looking around for any immediate signs of danger.