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@spookytechza
Soon.
1. Stalker/Slasher 2. Trasformation/Frankenstein 3. Hellfire/demons 4. Apothecary/Cottage 5. Carnival/Clown 6. Cowardice/Crossroads 7. Alive by midnight/Dead by dawn
Guidelines
Post these year's prompts under #techzaspookyweek2025 or #emduospookyweek2025 for platonic works, if you prefer.
We'll be eagerly waiting for your arrival.
DAY 7; ALIVE BY MIDNIGHT/DEAD BY DAWN
Well however you've decided to meet your fate- to you who are already here, and to those who'll come later- we won't blame you.
I believe this year it's your turn to begin the meal, dear.
And when thrown in the cold, lost in a never ending wood, and you see a light, you live a little longer. the night passes in a blur, and by the time you're aware enough to understand nothing you'd pick ever truly mattered, you're far too late to do anything about it.
Don't feel foolish, many others have made the same mistake. We may not have lead you here, but we know that, caught between a rock and a hard place, there's only so much you can do.
We're gracious enough hosts to allow you to cling to the life you so desperately wish for a little while longer. We give you shelter, for a time. Peace, for a time. Whatever things you meet here either came before you or uninvited- we'd grant you respite, if we could, but we can only do so much.
Though I must admit, fear certainly gives you a wonderful flavour.
But don't fret. Oh, don't fret. It will be quick, for the one that watches over this land is a merciful Lady – most of the time.
Sway your weary body; let darkness consume your every sense. Let your head become blissfully shallow; no thoughts, no worries.
The more confused you are, the tastier you get.
Sweet dreams~
It will stay silent. A cold death. Much slower than the last one. It will not paint the forest red and orange with a dangerous fire, but it will die like everything around it.
In a dark, cold, and lonely abyss.
Until. Ouroboros.
Title: I Know The Score (Like The Back Of My Hand)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Fandom: Dream SMP
Relationship: Technoblade/Phil Watson | Philza
Length: 1,149 words.
Tags: Alternate Universe - Demons, Crossroads Deals & Demons, Banter, Implied Sexual Content, Comedy
Summary: The full moon was almost as bright as day, the trees around him casting long shadows on the ground. Phil took in the view as he bit into a cherry hand pie, and then went still. There was a dark shadow stretching out onto the road next to him, and as he looked at it the darkness was growing, like a figure straightening from a crouch. He turned to look, hand going to the knife on his belt, and glowing red eyes looked out of the dark next to him. “So, you’ve come to the crossroads,” a deep voice said.
Or: Phil makes a bargain.
For day six of Emduo/Techza Spooky Week: Crossroads.
Many are the unpredictabilities of human nature. When confronted with the same situation, there is no telling what one will do. Maybe one day we will know how to predict them- though, if even an otherworldly creature cannot fathom the outcome... perhaps that's telling enough.
Well, at least there was an amusing experience to be had. Among other things.
DAY SIX; COWARDICE/CROSSROADS
What brought you here tonight? What paths did you take that left you, poor soul, upon our door? They must have been many- have you stopped to considered all of them yet? Have you found out where you made the mistake? Was it a day ago? A month? Or can you trace this back years?
-And yet you could have turned right instead of left at the fork in the road just beyond the forest. You could have never entered. We couldn't have stopped you.
I suppose her woods are enough to make anybody mad enough and send them running, this late. But are we really any better an ending? What were you looking for, this far into the server? Though we'd be lying if we said we're disappointed. Whatever keeps bringing you to us, we'll be grateful nonetheless.
There's only one more decision to be made. When the door locks and you accept this wasn't ever as safe as it seemed from those creatures outside - what are you going to do? Wait, cower? We much prefer you stay and wait for the inevitability, but escaping is always an option.
So run, you little things. It won't save you.
DAY FIVE; CARNIVAL/CLOWN
Tonight, the Trespassers strive to maintain a positive attitude. There's a joke told. The sound of another's too-hurried laughter pierces. It is not very effective. Out here, nothing ever happens. Their noises appears to be absorbed by the walls, dying before it reaches the corners. They can hear It. Faintly They continue to try, nevertheless. It's safer to laugh than to be silent.
It pays attention. It never fails to listen. At some point, nobody can recall what was amusing. All they know is that stillness hurts.
One of the travelers swears they see movement in the reflection of a window: a painted smile, too wide for any human face, gliding just behind their own. Another finds the furniture rearranged in a perfect ring, as if the room itself expects them to take their places and play along. The books are weird and the paintings? Oh, one could almost swear they a saw a little wink.
It is delighted with the games. Best yet, their prey is finally sensing there is something wrong.
Oh, how fun it will be once time is due. Tick. Tack. The cucoo won't take much longer~
— Phil's Cabin.
Day 3: Hellfire/ Demons
this is a bit more wandering lol. I didn't write a prompt last year, so i was a little lost trying to figure out hte concept.
When the oldest log of wood caves in, sparks fly, scattering through the air into the cabin. A few scatter along the ground, searing through the wood.
One even manages to catch flame, garnering yelps and frantic scuffling from those nearby trying to stifle it.
The embers flare in amusement.
Not yet.
the lantern in your heart won't fade
The house was still quiet when Techno woke up, pushing himself upright and grabbing his glasses off the small side table. Judging by the light, it was a decent ways into the morning, though it was still raining. Despite the silence, the house smelled of baking bread, and he could have sworn that he’d only pulled one blanket over himself last night, and now there were two. “Hello?” he said to the air. “Good mornin’?” Something clattered in the kitchen. Or: traveller Technoblade has found a very strange house. For day 4 of Techza & Emduo Spooky Week: Cottage!
Status: 1/1 chapters, updated 28 October, 2,495 words
Fandom: Dream SMP
Rating: Teen and up Audiences
Category: Gen
Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson | Philza
Relationships: Technoblade & Phil Watson | Philza
Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Sentient Places, Just a little minor murder attempt, between friends, First Meetings, Technoblade & Phil Watson | Philza Friendship, Yes this contains writing about food again I am who I am
__
And I had to write something for @spookytechza week! For day 4, Cottage.
The houses creak as they expand in the warmth of the fireplace and contract against the night's bitter cold, gently cracking as they try to settle.
Having such freedom to express oneself so freely truly sounds delightful- If we had the legs to move, perhaps we could pay this one a visit. Though I've heard horrors about socializing, it might not be so terrible. I guess we'll never know, will we @antimony-medusa? At least I will certainly cherish the idea. Thank you.
DAY FOUR; APOTHECARY/COTTAGE
In the basement, something cracks underfoot.
There. Crystal litters the floor, shimmers in the moonlight. What little can be seen of the floor beneath the sea of glass is stained, and evidence of the broken items can still be found among the walls. Some scattered bottles may still be found whole on the shelves. Though their contents are obscured by layers of dust, brilliant colors shine through. But who would dare try them now?
A single brewing stand remains unbroken with three bottles inside it, left brewing. The chests in the room have tipped over: roots, eyes, plants, powder; they mix with the shattered bottles. Little of it, if anything at all, can be salvaged.
How unfortunate. Perhaps it could have been of use.
Just who had lived here, really? Far, far from any other sign of civilization. Alone, lost in the tundra, who could have possibly needed this much of anything at all? Surely there was enough here to last a lifetime.
What a shame it's all gone to waste. Even if there's nothing of use, with little to no other shelter to find for chunks on end, at least these cabins are safe enough from the monsters and weather to those who come across it.
There's nobody left to complain otherwise, anyway.
Day 1: Stalker/ Slasher
HA I'M DOING IT FUCKERS, TAKE THIS AS MY BIRTHDAY GIFT TO YOU, IDK WHEN I'M GETTING CAUGHT UP BUT BON APPETITE
Fingerprints out the window, looking in.
Had those been there when they got here? That should be the most logical answer. More than one of the travelers had stopped to stare , trying to gleam what lay inside.
If only it weren't for the peeking shadow and puff of vapor in the glass.
WELL, WELL, WELL...
It came to our knowledge that there are some much interesting things being shared across the wind. A thousand little voices and beady eyes. Corvids do remember, after all.
Say, why don't you sit back? Relax? Oh, there is so much to do. We are not even halfway through!
Why don't you open this and see what awaits you on the other side? If you dare...
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
DAY THREE; HELLFIRE/DEMON
The night deepens, drawing the air tight with a suffocating heat that rises from the earth itself. The wind, now a twisted breath, carries the faint scent of sulfur. It remains still, patient, as ever. Its silence stretches like a stretch of flame, curling, licking at the edges of the tundra. There is no sound but the occasional snap of splintering wood as the tresspassers make their way closer. Closer. Closer.
It is not in a hurry. Not yet. The prey hasn’t reached the right threshold, the moment when the bones are ripe for crushing.
The travelers are unaware, stepping closer, their hearts beating with a mixture of dread and curiosity. They feel it, but they do not yet understand.
The game is beginning.
They don't know yet, but those aren't just homes; they're hells of their own making, holding doors to something older and deeper that lurks behind the walls and under the flooring. Something that was reawakened shortly after its original owners departed for a place beyond the reach of the horizon.
The prey is unaware that every action they do is being tracked and evaluated. Tonight, It won't kill; instead, It will let fear linger. Until there is no way out, they will allow the uncertainty to fester in their veins and allow the hopelessness to set in. The dance is lengthy and drawn out. Terror is the marinade, and fear is the flavor. It will feast when they are sufficiently mature.
But not yet. For now, the silence will hold. The flames within the walls will burn hotter still, but not enough to claim them - at least not yet. The flames will whisper, like distant voices calling to them. It will be just enough to keep them close. Too close. It will be the quiet moments between the screams, the heavy breaths before the final act. And It will wait, ever patient, ever hungry.
Because, there is still time. Still much fun to experience.
— Phil's Cabin.
Happy yaoiween!
day 2: frankenstein/transformation
The strangers could yet see what laid behind those windows. Dark as they were, it obscure the view and made it all the more intriguing. All the more mysterious.
And what is human nature if not careless curiosity? Such naivete. Such foolishness. It was adorable.
From close to the fireplace, there was a book. A title none the unknown. Frankenstein.
What an... odd choice. You see, it is a common mistake to call the creature of undead nature 'Frankenstein'. But you see... Frankenstein was no creature. No. He was Its creator. Frankenstein's monster. Adam.
And in a way... Adam were those uncanny cabins. Those Frankenstein creatures.
– Phil's Cabin
DAY TWO; TRANSFORMATION/FRANKENSTEIN
It wasn't that long ago, in the grand scheme of things, that foundations of the buildings had shifted. The shelter in the tundra had been abandoned for longer than anyone had lived in it, that much is true, but the cabins were young yet. They still are.
What brought about the change? Perhaps it was the owners, their absence. Entities, energy, meddling with that which they left behind.
Perhaps the buildup of bodies and parts that have rotted in the floor brought about what made them a Thing; grated through and eventually, consumed- turned flesh that now cements the walls. Its oil finish coats the wooden frames with life: once an amalgamation of bodies, turned whole.
Had they always been dormant, awaiting for an unfortunate soul to cross their threshold and perish in it to wake them?
...
Well, it's not as though anyone curious enough is ever going to know. Their last burning having passed, they hunger.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dream SMP Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Technoblade & Phil Watson | Philza Characters: Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson | Philza Additional Tags: Ambiguous Relationships, Stalking, Oblivious Phil Watson | Philza, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Tags Contain Spoilers, Technoblade & Phil Watson | Philza-centric, Phil Watson | Philza Has a Bad Time, Dark Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), techzaspookyweek2025 Summary:
“It was a cloudy fall morning when Phil met him for the first time.
It was a daily routine for Phil to come to the park near his home in the early mornings. When he wasn’t lying in bed wishing to fall asleep and getting ready to work a double shift at the shitty convenience store, the time he spent sitting in the park with no one but himself and the birds that gathered around him to keep him company helped instill a feeling of peace that Phil was hard-pressed to find.
Which is why, when he noticed the new random stranger hanging around, pissed him off so much.”
Phil is struggling to find things to be happy about in his seemingly boring life. Maybe making a new friend could help.
HAPPY TECHZA SPOOKY WEEK 2025!!!!!
This is for the first prompt for this week “stalking”. It’s also my longest fic yet! pls give it a read i would greatly appreciate it!!
Strangers meeting on the deck. Awkward greetings exchanged, eyes averted, seeking shelter from the night. Don't look too close, just in case you see something you don't like.
How can you know the person next to you is someone you can trust?
DAY ONE; STALKER/SLASHER
The stillness of the night clung to the ruins, the remnants of ash and charred wood scattered across the ground like the bones of a long-dead creature. For months, It laid asleep - its walls crumbling, its once-proud windows now dark, devoid of the eyes that had once peered into the world. But now, beneath the suffocating silence, something stirred. A pulse; soft at first, like a whisper through the floorboards, as if a faint tremor of life returned to Its long-ignored joints.
The floorboards groaned, stretching after a long slumber. The smell of dampness and decay filled the air where fire had once scorched. The wind began to stir, but it was not the same wind. It carried with it a new chill, a promise of something darker, something... hungrier. Slowly, the charred beams groaned under their weight as the roof creaked, shifting back into shape with a low, aching sound. Like a waking giant, the cabins stood still against the cold, dark tundra. Its oppressive trees cornering from all sides.
Then came the whispers, faint at first, like the rustling of dry leaves at the edge of a forest. Voices. Soft at first, rising like steam from the earth. They approached, unaware, their footsteps as light as shadows upon the dirt. It felt them - each tentative footstep. Each sigh. The familiar pulse of life.
Trespassers.
They were drawn to it, to it, to the cabins' pulse like moths to flame. How the houses had waited for this. Waited for the return of those who would feed it once again.
The old familiar weight of their presence pressed against the walls, and It stirred with anticipation. Closer now. It could feel the heat of their bodies as they crossed its threshold, the air thick with their unease. Their hearts beat in time with the creaking floor, and their breath quickened with every step. They would stay. It was only a matter of time.
And so, as the travelers crossed its threshould, the cabins began their stalking. It had woken. It had risen once more. Yet another year.
— Phil's Cabin
Old bones creak under stress.
Tomorrow.
techza halloween week (long overdue) : day 7- till death do us part (part 5/5)
x x x x x x x x x x x x END
Oh, how sad it is to see this beautiful story go. Truly touched the heart of the heartless, truly beckoned us in like a moth to a flame. Such is the generosity of sharing this with us, that we can truly consider that you've brought warmth to the heart of the heartless.
Please, do forgive us for the lateness, but you see, our little cycle is renewed. We are once returning to rest your weary souls. Our ground will soon open once more and whe it does...
We hope you will stay with for long. Forever, even. Now, be still. We ought to sleep a few days more...
– Phil's Cabin
