Shrouded History | Technoblade · Y/n story by @ihaveaproblem

The fire crackles low and warm, casting long, dancing shadows across the wooden walls of the cabin. Outside, the tundra stretches endless and white under the bruised purple of the evening sky. The cold presses against the window pane, a faint, constant reminder of the world beyond this small, warm room.

Technoblade

from the fire You’ve been staring at that same snowdrift for twenty minutes.

His voice is low, dry—the kind of quiet observation that sounds like an offhand remark, but carries the weight of someone who has been paying attention all along. He doesn’t look up from his book, but you can see the corner of his eye glint in the firelight.

Technoblade

turning a page slowly Something on your mind, or are you just cataloging the snowflakes?