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“Philza, please, noooooo” Techno whines.
“Sorry mate, it has to be done, and we both know it” the older responds, shit-eating grin across his face, very obviously not sorry at all.
The Avian is holding his Piglin friend down his own couch, trimming equipment by his side, ready to trim down the netherborn’s tusks and hooves.
Techno does not appreciate that.
It just feels weird! He can feel the hoof file’s movement deep in his bones, even if he doesn’t technically have nerves in his hooves.
The tusks are even worse. Philza usually has to inject Healing potions directly into Technos gums with a syringe, to try and keep them from hurting too much. Void forbid he ever gets even one cavity, there would be hell unleashed by The Blood Gods Acolyte.
Speaking of, he is still miserably writhing under Phil’s grasp, not giving up his fighting spirit. Technoblade never dies applies to getting your hooves and tusks trimmed as well, he decides.
“Techno, mate, stop squirming you little shit ” Philza, clearly impatient -and a little sore- now, snarls, causing Techno to shrink in on himself just a little. Progress is progress , Phil thinks, feeling only a little bad for so badly intimidating his friend.
The crows caw and it almost sounds like they’re laughing at the two’s expense.
Scratch that, they are definitely laughing, the little shits.
Chat is in a similar state, finding great joy in seeing their Host in this level of ultimately harmless distress.
Technosoft
E
TECHNOMANICURE POG
E
LMAO E
Technosoft
BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD
NO! NO BLOOD! ONLY SOFT!!
E as well LMAO
“Chat, please stop calling me “soft”! I am not! I am the exact opposite of soft, actually”.
Brief silence, then: so you’re hard? And after that was only screaming and chaos.
“Chat whyyyyy” is Techno’s only response, refusing to acknowledge any of the events that just transpired.
“Please tell me they said “so you’re hard”, that would be so funny” Phil pipes up, loosening his iron grip on his friends arms, noticing that Techno had stopped struggling, at least temporarily.
“How do you know my magic head voices so well, Philza?” Techno asks, sounding rather defeated.
“Eh, we’ve been partners for a while now, you’d think I’d get the hang of ‘em” the older responds, reminiscing about their time before the SMP, smiling fondly.
And while the Piglin was distracted by trying to shut Chat up again -well, as much as one can shut them up-, Phil seized the opportunity to start filing away at Techno’s upper hooves, startling the other briefly, though by now he’d accepted his fate, and settled back down after a glare in the Avians direction, not unlike that of a dog betrayed by their owner denying them food.
Techno moved his ears to cover his eyes, a standard coping mechanism for the Piglin, as to avoid looking at his own hooves, in fear of worsening the horrid feeling the file brang with it by acknowledging that it was, in fact, actually happening.
Phil, noticing his friend's discomfort, worked as quickly as he could while still being thorough.
He starts with Techno’s left hand, going to smooth out any rough edges first on the outside, then moving on to between the two main hoof segments, finishing off with the “thumb”, then repeating on the right hoof.
“Alright, one half of the hooves done! Next up are your feet, alright mate?” Phil asks.
“As alright as I can be, Philza.” Comes the reluctant response.
So Phil does just that, repeating the treatment the upper hooves received, making sure to file out any uneven spots on the heel of his hooves. Techno did not whimper, don’t listen to Philza.
“Okay! Your hooves are done mate, time to move on to those tusks.” Phil announces, making Techno start wriggling in place again.
This time less as an attempt to escape -he’d long given up on that-, but rather as a way to eloquently express his discomfort with this whole situation.
“Mate, stop movin’ around, you know what happens if we don’t do this,” Phil warns his friend.
Techno does, in fact, know what would happen if his tusks didn’t get regularly shaved and filed down. Similar to a Piglins Overworld counterpart -hogs-, their tusks don’t stop growing, oftentimes growing into their snouts if left unattended.
Not a fun experience, he speaks from experience. He still has two small dot-shaped scars on his snout.
Phil gets the syringe from the tray beside him -when did that tray get there?- and fills it with an Instant Healing potion, to dull the normally excruciating pain down to an unpleasant scratching feeling.
Techno whined again, just for good measure. “Do we really have to do this?” He asks, knowing the answer full and well.
Still, Phil humored his friend, while injecting the potion right at the base of the younger’s tusk’s base. “ Yes Techno, we have to do this,” he confirms, chuckle barely contained.
While waiting for the potion to take its full effect, Phil began scratching behind Technos ear, smiling fondly at the subsequent purr that The Blood God’s Acolyte let out.
TECHNOPURR? POG
E
E
technosoft LOL
E
like a little kitten awww 🥺
TECHNOKITTEN OMG YES
“Shut up Chat, I’m not a kitten, nor do I purr,” Techno said, purring like a kitten.
Phil made the wise decision not to comment on it.
“Okay, I think my tusk is numb enough now, Phil,” Techno replies, hesitancy still evident in his voice.
“Alright mate, if it isn’t, tell me yeah?” Phil responds, still making sure to make his friend and partner in (war)crime as comfortable as possible. Techno only nods, his ears already moving back to their place in front of his eyes.
Phil carefully starts shaving away the left tusk with a rough file. Making sure to stop every now and then, to give their owner some time to breathe.
He had learned through painful trial and error how much of the tusks he could safely shave away before they bled.
Moving on, the Avian takes out a finer file, to smooth the tusk back to its original state, if not smoother than before.
Then he repeats this process on the second tusk, still pausing and checking in with Techno regularly, to make sure he didn’t hurt the other more than strictly necessary.
By the end, Techno had only been crying a little bit. If you asked him about it, he’d deny he ever cried at all, he has a reputation to uphold after all.
🦀 TUSKS ARE GONE, CRABRAVE 🦀
🦀 TUSKS ARE GONE, CRABRAVE 🦀
E
🦀 TUSKS ARE GONE, CRABRAVE 🦀
chat the tusks aren’t gone what the hell are you talking about
E 🦀TUSKS ARE GONE, CRABRAVE🦀
E
Oh my fucking god guys, shut up.
“Phil, Chat’s sayin’ that my tusks are gone, they’re lyin’, right?” Techno asks, totally not nervous at all, even though he can still clearly see his tusks in front of his snout.
“Nah mate, don’t listen to ‘em, your tusks are still attached to your face,” the Avian responds, not even bothering to stop the following wheeze/chuckle combo, earning another betrayed glare from his netherborn friend.
“Now come on,” he continues after calming down, “those Healing Pots must be making you tired as fuck, let’s get you to bed mate”
A small, but fond smile creeps onto the others face, “Sure, let’s do that,” is all Techno responds with, feeling the tiredness deep in his bones, now that Phil had mentioned it.
If Chat calls him soft again, Techno doesn’t fight it anymore.