Can I ask for Little!Technoblade headanons? No pressure! Your account feels very comfy btw!! :]
Little!Technoblade Headcanons
A/N :: Doing this request made me so happy aa! Anything Little!Technoblade related gives me so much comfort since he’s like, my favorite character n all! Hope you enjoy these hcs as much as I do :D.
Techno’s regression is usually involuntary rather than voluntary. He tends to regress 2-3 times a week. His little age is 4-9 but sometimes he goes lower, though not often.
Philza is his long term caregiver, Ranboo sometimes babysits Techno but they hang out more when they’re both little. Techno finds Ranboo to be like a sibling figure when regressed.
When he’s little, he loves anything that’s shiny. Especially gold items he may find. So his pacifiers, sippy cups, all have jewels on them! (And he will definitely decorate Phil’s face with plastic gems)
Really enjoys being read to, he loves story time so much and is basically the only thing that convinces him take naps or go to bed.
He’s very shy around new people, and can be shy the first couple of minutes into regression as well. Though he can be kind of talkative if you speak to him about certain interests of his. (Special interests, if you will)
But besides that, he’s a bit of a quiet little and will let people know what he wants/needs by hand movements and so on.
When little, he sometimes shakes his head because it makes his jewelry move around and it makes noises he likes. (Though the jewelry is eventually taken off when he’s small)
Enjoys guessing games, mostly because he knows a lot of the answers (usually) and he just loves getting the questions right and getting praise for it.
Likes spinning in circles because of his long hair, he just likes seeing it move. Though, sometimes he absolutely hates his long hair when small and just needs it to be tied up in a bun or two, or even a braid. (In conclusion, he likes his hair getting played with)
Very very curious. Will ask questions about anything and everything he comes across—he just wants to know as much he possibly can!
So many chew necklaces/toys. For sensory and non sensory reasons. If he doesn’t have a chew necklace/toy, he will chew on his sleeves, fingers, and almost anything he can find.
Little Techno actually really enjoys arts and crafts. He likes decorating pages with whatever stickers he has to try and make it look pretty. (He totally has greek mythology themed stickers, because y e s)
Gets very embarrassed whenever someone praises him for something he did good.
Will more than likely ask for hot chocolate when small. It’s like, his favorite drink and he constantly wants it.
He talks in piglin and English when regressed, mainly English but he does switch back and forth between the two by accident. He finds it easier to speak in piglin when small.
Not Alone- kid!wilbur, older kid!techno, very little kid!tommy, even smaller kid!tubbo, dad!za.
The sun rose bright and warm on the small cottage in the forest, shining familiarly through the thin curtains to wake the thirteen-year-old splayed across his bed, legs tangled in the blue, sheep printed sheets that were a little too small for the bed itself. He groaned, and rolled over, almost falling off the bed as he moved, it being far too early to be awake, especially on a lazy day such as this one. It wasn’t like he had anything to do, no school, no sparring practice, not even any chores. A perfect day to stay in bed until the sun went away again.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t afforded that luxury, as his door was thrown open, slamming against the wall as it swung, and the cool dawn breeze washed over his exposed skin, ruffling his hair gently. “Wake up, wake up, wake up!” an excitable voice squeaked, before a weight threw itself at the bed, making it bounce wildly. Coughing, with a breathless “oof”, he couldn’t help but open his eyes now, to see the almost-vibrating form of his younger brother, a grin splitting his face almost in half. “oh, hey Will.” he muttered, wearily, and reaching for his glasses. “What’s, uh...what's up?” Fighting back a yawn, sure he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep now the kid had invaded.
Wilbur bounced again, his hands flapping excitedly, as he grinned. “It’s my birfday! Happy birfday to me, happy birfday to me!” he squeaked, starting to sing as he slid back off the bed and started spinning in circles while singing. “Techy! Sing with me!” he gasped, holding his hands out towards his brother eagerly, making it hard for the teen to refuse, as he smiled weakly. “I’m getting up, don’t worry.” Techno assured, as he slithered reluctantly out of bed, pulling on the first shirt to reach his hands- one of Phil’s donated pieces- and took Wilbur’s quivering hand. “Yeah, uh...” he started, not really singing, though the nine-year-old didn’t seem to mind. “Ha-Happy Birthday, I guess?” he sounded tentative, like he hadnt quite done it right.
“Yay! Thank You!” Will’s grin only got bigger, showing the gap where his front tooth used to be, as he dragged Techno towards the bedroom door. “Cummon, Techy! Everyone else ‘s already up! Dad sent me to come get youuuuu.” He couldn’t stop talking, excitement flowing through his very veins, at the very premise of a birthday. Techno didn’t quite understand what was so important about it, or what significance it held, especially if it meant waking up so ridiculously early on a summer morning. Still, he muffled his groan as the sunlight streaming through the front windows hit his eyes, trying his hardest to smile encouragingly whenever the kid looked back to him. Even as his head pounded and his broken glasses dug into the bridge of his nose.
Seeing the rest of the group sat about the coffee table, which had been piled high with presents, Techno couldn’t help but wrap his free arm about his chest, as it ached. Tommy was bouncing almost as much as WIlbur, holding a small, sloppily wrapped bundle tight in his lap, like it was precious, whilst Tubbo, the youngest of the boys, was sat, wedged right up against the edge of the couch, nervously gripping Phil’s sleeve as he saw the eldest be dragged in. Phil, himself, had taken a comfortable seat right in the centre of the couch, a sheepish smile on his face as he saw Techno’s bewildered face. “Hey Will? I don’t think he wants to be pulled everywhere?” Phil drew the boy's attention, chuckling slightly as Wilbur rushed an apology, stumbling over the words, and threw himself into the dining chair that had been hastily decorated with some balloons, to signify a birthday boy’s throne.
Trying to clear up the misunderstanding, Techno held up a hand, ignoring how the too-big sleeve flopped over his fingers, and muttered his own apology. “No, really, it’s my fault, I...i wasn’t going fast enough. It’s fine.” The words fell on deaf ears, however, as Phil smiled apologetically for Will’s behaviour, beckoning the eldest of the four over to sit with him. Instead, he elected to sink down, crosslegged onto the floor, leaning awkwardly against an armchair, and hugged his knees to his chest to hide the way it was aching. It wasn’t like it was a new position, he liked to sit on the floor, and Phil had stopped questioning it now, sure he would sit on chairs when he wanted to, but, especially today, he could enjoy the fact the spotlight was as far away from on him as it could possibly be.
Subtly combing his fingers through his bed head, he watched through strands of unruly, candyfloss hair as Will descended like a vulture onto the pile of gifts with Phil’s blessing, surfacing with the biggest one. He looked to the fatherly figure for approval, and, after he received a nod, dug all ten of his fingers into the thin wrapping at the same time, yanking to open it in only the way a nine-year-old really could. Shreds of paper went everywhere, Tubbo giggling as a piece landed squarely on his nose, Will’s eyes racing hungrily over the bundle of brown and black that fell out. “It’s a coat like mine, I thought you might want to have one.” Phil explained, as Will unfolded it to reveal a rather less tattered trench-coat than the one Phil was speaking of, the one hung beside the door. Squealing, he held it tight to his chest, almost tripping as he ran over to Phil, and threw himself at him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm gunna wear it everyday, and ill be so cool!” He promised, ignoring how Phil was laughing openly at how big it was. His hands barely even came to the elbows, the tails dragging on the floor behind him as he excitedly ran to his little brother to show him. “Look, Look, Look, Tommy! I’m so cool!” he yelled, as Tommy almost bounced right out of his seat.
“Uh-huhs! You look awesum, Wilby!” the blond grinned, his hair falling over his eyes as he nodded enthusiastically. Wilbur seemed to glow at the praise, his mind racing a million miles an hour as Tubbo nodded to back up Tommy’s point, the sun seeming to shine specifically on him in that moment. “We’re gunna have such cool adventures! Oh, Dad, Dad, Dad, can I go play? I'll be really good, promise!” Will begged, pointing to the window, through which he could see a few animals milling around, the salmon in the river playing lazily in the sun spots. Phil looked amused, shaking his head a little, as Techno stifled a snort. “Maybe later, lil siren. For now, look! You’ve still got more presents! Tommy, how about you give Will yours next?” He carefully redirected the point, relieved as Tommy gasped, and whirled round to grab the brown paper wrapped bundle from where it had fallen to the cushion during their bouncing.
Pushing the sleeves up, and suddenly looking a whole lot more mature as he did so, Wilbur accepted the gift, graciously thanking his little brother, even as the paper almost fell apart in his hands. He tried his hardest to be gentle with it, especially as Tommy watched on, sure that it was precious. And, as he finally unwrapped it from the tissue paper, and it fell into his hand, he couldn’t help but gasp. A small, hand-engraved locket had fallen into his hand, the chain thin and delicate, as it rippled between his fingers, dangling down. Cautiously opening it, Will smiled wide, faced with a picture of his dad, hand on each of his son’s shoulders, Tubbo sat in front of them, all wearing genuine smiles. That was sweet enough, to have his family staring back at him, but the other side held a picture of a pink haired pre-teen, wearing strangely formal clothes, but recognisable all the same. “Techy! Techy look!” Will smiled, rushing over to thrust it in the half-piglin's face, so he could see. The addition of his own picture in the clearly family-heirloom made Techno’s heart flutter a little, especially as he could tell it had been Phil’s experienced hand that had put it together. He replied with a sof smile, and a quiet “huh, ‘tis me, yeah. Thats pretty cool, Will.”, trying his hardest to catch Phil’s eye to send a grateful look his way, though the old man seemed to be purposefully looking away, a slight blush the onbly sign it had affected him at all.
Gently slipping the chain over his head, Will let the heavy piece rest halfway down his chest, as he headed back to the presents, not seeing how Techno’s eyes had glossed over a little at the gesture. Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t even notice as the pile slowly dwindled, more and more activities or toys or clothes spilling out of the bright paper, almost drowning the kid, at least not until a ball of paper caught the side of his head, making him zone back in. Quickly scrubbing at the tears that had, rather embrassingly, slid down his cheeks whilst he hadnt noticed, Techno turned his head towards the perpetrator of the assault, scowling slightly when he saw it had been a laughing Phil.
“That hurt.” he complained bluntly, rubbing at his pointed ear, where it had caught him, adjusting the course strands of hair he had tucked behind said ear, instead of tying it up. “Sorry, son. It’s just, we’ve been calling you for a couple minutes now.” he apologised, rubbing his neck awkwardly, especially as Techno’s eyes widened at the endearment. Before he could question it, however, Phil spoke up again. Or at least, tried to. “I was gunna-” he started, before Wilbur jumped in, having changed from his pyjamas to a loose, hempen shirt and some jeans, with, of course, his precious jacket.
“We’re gunna go play! You wanna come with us?” he enthused, pulling his boots onto the wrong feet in his excitement, and making Phil have to stoop from where he was helping Tommy with his buttons, to swap them over. “Let’s play revolution!” he continued, Tubbo following mutely but happily behind the two boys as they ran to the door, his oversized, hand-me-down green shirt flopping around as he moved. “It’s no fun with just one, two of us! Tubbo doesn’t count when we play, he’s too small.” he protested, as Techno went to shake his head, really not feeling up to playing pretend with the boys that day. He had too much to think about. Phil wasn’t having any of it, though, picking up his sunhat from the hook and calling across the room. “Come on, Tech, We’ll all go, I have to head into town to get something anyway, you can come me if you arent going to play with them.” He left no room to wriggle out, making Techno heave a sigh, and nod, slipping away to his room to change. He could hear the excited screams as Phil opened the door to let all three of the littler kids out, and the following yell to “be nice to Tubbo!” as Tommy obviously left him behind to run into the cooler woods.
It didn’t take long to slip into a light, ruffled front shirt and some black dress pants, Techno feeling more comfortable in the antique style clothes, though he couldn’t help sinking down onto his unmade bed, as his stomach ached harder. It might have been hunger, since he hadnt eaten anything since the previous night, but, hearing the faint whoops of Will as he started up one of his too-complex games, Techno knew it wasn’t anything as physical as that. No, it was much deeper.
Quietly wrapping one arm about his stomach again as he headed out, having shoved on some boots, and thrown his too-long hair into some semblance of out-his-face, he tried to paste on a sort of smile for his adoptive carer, sure he’d never hear the end of it if he showed how much he wanted to frown. He did gain a small eyebrow furrow, but, luckily, Phil had the sense not to push, instead pulling out a wide brimmed straw hat for the easily-burnt half-piglin, and passed it over. “Here, we have to go get the cake for later, I had it made specially by that baker in town.” He was reading off a scribbled grocery list, clutched in one hand as he grabbed a basket with the other, not even looking away from the writing to catch the rest of the stuff trying to tumble out of the cupboard, and shove it back in. Techno nodded quietly, knowing the one he meant, and planning how best to Not-Be-There, since it was probably the busiest store of the waterfront on a normal day, never mind today, when everyone would be seeking pies and pastries for their summer parties. He notoriously wasn’t good with crowds, though he didn’t dare tell Phil this, in case it was a nuisance, instead opting to take a peek at the list, and offer to get something else at the same time.
The sudden burst of helpfullness didn’t escape notice, but, given how much he had to get, Phil didn’t much mind, setting the teen on the job of collecting fruits, and stashed the list away in his pocket, to plot the rest of when they got there. He wasn’t sure how long his boys would be out, but he really didn’t want to keep them waiting too long if they got bored before he got back. Having pre-prepared a tray of snacks and water bottles earlier in the day, he quickly propped the door open with a foot, popping it on the low, end table just outside, for precisely that purpose, before waving a hesitant Techno through with a smile. “Out we come, then.” He joked, pulling out the key to lock the cottage door behind them both, his shoes thudding familiarly on the worn stone step, reminding Techno he wasn’t gunna be going on his own, as he shuffled awkwardly between feet.
He wasn’t used to going out without his cape about his shoulders to help hide him from the world, but even now, he could feel the sun beating down on his shoulders and back, warming him almost to discomfort, even without the thick layer of velvet. He cleared his throat, easily falling into step just behind Phil as they passed the squeaky, broken gate, and straight into the field across the road, taking the wooded path shortcut, much to the relief of the teen, not sure he could have made it all the way up the main road and back today. The rustling of the wheat, and foraging of smaller animals was all that breached the comfortable silence that settled over the two of them as they walked, having established that neither was good at small talk months ago, back when days still came and went in darkness.
They had their own minds for company, for the most part, Phil seeming to hear songs on the wind to hum along to tunelessly whenever he felt like it, and really, Techno wouldn’t have it any other way, especially as it gave him something else to focus on, other than the weird feeling he was struggling to put a name to. He may have squealed slightly as a cow wandered across their path, spooking him a little, and causing Phil to chuckle, squeezing his shoulder a little with his callused hand, but, if he had longed for the warm touch to linger a little longer, well that was between him and the trees.
Before long, the trees thinned out, bit-by-bit, interrupted by houses where they would fit, until, by some strange occurrence, they found themselves stood in the town square, like they had been there all along. Still not used to how sudden it felt, Techno spun gently to get his bearings back, before pulling on the basket. “I’ll...i’ll go to the market, if you want to go get the cake before it gets too busy?” he offered, flinching at the merchants hawking their wares at the top of their lungs only a little ways away. Phil nodded, seeing an opportunity to join the three-person queue, hurrying off with barely another word than “Meet back here”, leaving Techno stood, clutching the basket to his chest, in the middle of the path.
Luckily, most people knew Phil, and so, by extension, Techno, in this small village, shaking their heads good-naturedly as he wandered the stalls, looking for the carrots. Trying to ease the furrowed brow he always seemed to wear, they called out jokes, or offered discounts, but he mostly kept his head down, shoving the number of vegetables he needed into the basket, and holding out the money to the appropriate local merchant. Really, he needed to buy Will a gift, since he had flat-out forgotten what the day was, and he really didn’t want to give Phil a reason to put him back out on the street where he had found him.
Finding he barely had enough coins left in the small pouch Phil had handed him for a hunk of cheese, Techno sighed, dejected, sure he was going to have to pick a flower and pretend it was important, and turned to leave. His last hope was a new stall, tucked right in the corner, boasting rare and wonderful treasures he was sure would be cheap tat. Sidling up to the stall, he tried not to be intimidated by the trader keeping their head shrouded in the shadow of their green cloak, and instead, muttered “Do...Do you have anything for a handful of bronze?” like it was something to be ashamed of. The merchant gasped, pulling back the blanket that had covered their wares previously, to show a distinct lack of prices. “Anything here may be purchased for your budget.” He spoke smoothly, as if luring Techo into making a mistake.
For the most part, he had been right, it was cheap tat, painted bright colors to attract fools. But leaning up against the side of the rickety shelf, stood a gleaming wooden instrument, as if begging to be bought, as if it wanted to be played. He couldn’t help but smile, knowing it was perfect for Wilbur, no questions asked. Pointing to it, he nodded. “I want that.” he spoke bluntly, leaving no room for error, watching as the strange merchant picked up in a gloved hand, and inspected it. “Ah, yes, a wonderful choice. I am sure it will be in good hands. That will be five bronze then.” He held out the spare hand, for Techno to upend the coin purse into, watching as five scuffed, browning circles fell out. Snapping the hand shut before he could take the coins back, the strange merchant lifted the instrument over the desk to Techno, knocking back his hood in the process. “Very good.” He spoke, not seeming to notice as Techno backed away, eyes transfixed on the smiling mask he wore over his own face.
Slinging the carrying strap of the instrument over his shoulder, Techno took off running, the basket of carrots banging against his leg as he moved, only daring to look back when he got to the familiar vegetable stalls he had grown up with. The merchant was gone, only a dusty corner left where he had once been, as if it had all been imagined. Rubbing his eyes, behind the broken rims of his glasses, Techno panted, sinking down onto the bench he had been told to meet Phil back at, and tried to calm himself by rubbing his fingers up and down the thick material of the strap. It didn’t make any sense, but, shaking it off as the old man walked up with a carefully balanced patisserie box, he stood and smiled, holding up the basket. “Got ‘em.” he spoke quietly, feeling slightly better at Phil’s affirming smile of praise.
“We should hurry back, Tommy’s attention span isnt too long.” Phil chuckled, speaking fondly about his middle son, shuffling the box to a more sustainable position. “Then, cake! Which I'm sure everyone is excited for!” Techno nodded softly, watching as the baker’s daughter, Niki, ran across the square, chasing pigeons and laughing. She was only a few years younger than Will, but somehow she looked so much smaller, more innocent. He only hoped the best for her. Hoped she would grow up loved and cared for.
Pulling his attention back to the present, he saw Phil had already strated walking, hurrying to catch up with him, and walk in time. The journey was so much quicker on the way back, the path clear of wandering cows, Techno even finding some suspicious looking mushrooms he might have been able to make a soup out of, just growing at the foot of a tree. He didn’t dare pick them, knowing how many people walked their dogs through the wood, but he did make a mental note to research them in one of Phil’s many books when he got some free time.
Soon enough, they were heading back through the wheat, greeted by three tired looking kids, as they lazed about in varying levels of sleepiness on the front lawn. Laughing as Wilbur instantly perked up at the cake box, Phil ushered his boys aside, handing the heavy and cool box to Techno whilst he unlocked the door, trusting him with the responsibility. He didn’t take it back as everyone rushed in, either, letting Techno go last so he could get the box onto the dining table with minimal little kid help. It was a nice feeling, especially as Phil got everyone cleaned up and seated, giving the eldest the honor of opening the box, to reveal a white frosting covered cake, “Happy Birthday, Wilbur” piped on the top with yellow, cursive icing. Practically bouncing off the walls, Wilbur begged his dad to let him have some now, to which Phil reluctantly relented, moving to get plates and a knife to cut the cake with, with the warning they were only allowed a small slice, so they would still eat their lunch. Tommy didn’t seem particularly pleased with the news, protesting “but daaaaaad” loudly, giving Will the perfect opportunity to start talking Techno’s ear off.
“Birfdays are the bestest! I want it to be a birfday everyday! You get cake, and presents, and....and....cake!” he smiled wide, humming happily to himself as Techno offered a tight smile, the feeling only getting worse. “When is your birfday, Techy?” Will asked curiously, as Phil came back with a stack of chipped mismatched plates, and a small utensil to cut the cake with. “Yeah, actually, Tech, when /is/ your birthday? I havent seen you celebrate...” Phil chimed in, seemingly confused when Techno slumped, shaking his head a little.
“I...i,uh, don’t have one?” Techno whispered, flinching as Tommy yelled “What!” at full volume. “Everyone has birfday.” Wilbur seemed confused, especially as Techno shook his head. “Not me. I don’t know when mine is. My family never told me.” He continued, eyes flicking to Phil, who was frozen in panic-stricken thought. Wilbur nodded quietly for a moment, then leaning over a dozing Tubbo towards the cake, and smeared his finger in the icing, rubbing out his name from it, leaning back grinning with his icing coated finger in his mouth. “There. It can be today.” he spoke as if it was that easy, Techno gaping at how kind the gesture had been, his mind not caught up enough to protest, not even as Will pulled the locket from around his neck, and put it round his brother’s. “Happy birfday, Techy, from your family.”