#borrower!technoblade

…

Techno went to gather some resources in the woods, not straying too far from the humans’ farm.

Eventually, his meager stuff was stored under the planks of an old tool shed.

The sun was high in the sky above his head. His pointed ears and fluffy tail twitched at a caw. A flock of crows was apparently moving to another part of the woods, but Techno noticed a good spot for watching their movement. As he climbed higher, many birds had already taken flight, but one sat quite low on a branch in front of him.

Well... It’s looks like a challenge, so, why not?

After that incident with the huge annoying woodpecker, he could try to hit a crow.

These birds were similar in size, about 20 inch (~50 cm). While the borrower himself was 6-inch-tall (~15 cm).

A lone crow watched as its companions flew away, leaving it behind. That was strange and could’ve been a cause for concern…

Anyway, Techno still took aim and drew back the string of his bow. He then exhaled slowly, but before he released the arrow, the bird suddenly turned its head in his direction.

The borrower flinched, causing him to accidentally let go of the bowstring.

Techno narrowed his eyes and raised his hand above his head, allowing the shadow to reveal the outcome. He hit bird’s wing, causing it to fall from the branch.

The pink-haired borrower jumps off the fallen stump he was standing on and makes his way through the tall grass.

After all, a downed bird is a dead bird, so he probably has to finish it off.

He was taken aback when he heard a groan that sounded like either a human or a bird.

That was strange, again, but that would be a problem for a future version of himself.

Finally, he pushed aside the last obstacle and saw that the giant winged man was sitting on the ground, clutching his injured wing.

Techno froze as those blue eyes met his brown once again.

Oh, he messed up.

As far as he knew, only Gods could transform into animals. He had to run before-

“Hello,” said the God.

The man tilted his head to the side like a bird and added with interest in his voice, “Why did you do that?”

It seems that he managed to shoot the God. He's so dead. He's going to die.

Techno prefers action instead of panic, so he ran in the opposite direction from God.

The only warning was “Oh! I don't think so!”, before a huge clawed hand got in his way.

Don't get him wrong, he was calculating his chances realistically, but this winged dude has the reaction of a cat. So, when Techno tried to dodge the hand, it followed right behind him. Moreover, the man didn’t move yet, which makes sense due to his height of 6 ft. (182 cm).

Technoblade started thrashing around to get out of the fist that was holding him. Which prompted the God to tighten his grip even more.

“You want me to drop you?! Stop squirming!”, the God chided him.

To be honest, he didn’t want to break his legs or neck if he fell, so he forced himself to stop, despite his instincts telling him otherwise.

Now he had a chance to get a closer look at the man. His blond hair fell down to his shoulders, and a slight stubble adorned his chin. Unlike Techno, the man didn't have any scars on his face. But the borrower could have sworn he'd seen the same style of clothing the God was wearing. That was a green kimono and a hakama pants. It didn't quite match the green and white striped bucket hat.

But who's he to judge the God, right?

Looks like early 30s. He wasn't a strikingly handsome man, but he wasn't ugly either. If you asked Techno's opinion – if you gave this guy some simple clothes and removed his wings, he could easily pass as a well-groomed farmer who hadn't been burdened with hard labor.

And perhaps he shouldn't be thinking about God in such a way right now, and rather try to focus on his chances of survival. But what could he offer God in exchange for sparing his life?

According to the mythology, Techno knew what humans did to gain the favor of the Gods. They built temples in their honor, created sculptures, and offered sacrifices from the first harvest of the year and livestock to even humans lives.

He literally had nothing. It was unlikely that the God would need the little he had, so trade would be pointless.

At least he can make the God hesitate for a moment before killing him. (He didn't want to die, but again, he was realistic about his chances.)

His thoughts were interrupted by the winged man, who lifted him even higher to eye level. He turned his hand slightly at different angles to examine the borrower properly.

“What are you? I've never seen someone like you.” The God muttered, “This is something new.”

Heh?! Something new? What's that supposed to mean?

As far as he knows, his kind was almost as ancient as the human kind. So a God probably shouldn't be surprised by a simple borrower. And this one was just mocking him right now. Techno would be happy to point out that this question was ridiculous if it hadn't been the last joke with sarcasm in his life.

He accidentally gave God the look that meant ‘Was that supposed to be a joke?’.

The God snorted, “Oh? A cheeky chap, aren’t ya?”

Techno blinked and shrugged with an impassive face.

Just for a second, the God's pupils turned into slits and pierced the borrower's soul like ice daggers.

“Alright then. Would you like to answer my first question?” God said matter-of-factly, leaving the cheerful tone aside.

The first question?

After thinking about all the information he had for so long, he might have forgotten about the question. Uh... Maybe he should have paid closer attention to God's words and tried to catch the hidden meaning or something, but that seemed like a waste of time. He was just trying to survive at that very moment.

So he would work with what he had.

The pink-haired borrower looked expectantly at God's face.

The God was a little surprised by his silence and quickly turned his gaze to his injured wing, then back to the borrower.

Ah, this question. Right…

“I thought you were a normal crow,” Technoblade simply replied.

The God blinked, then asked with a slight hesitation, “Do you hunt crows?”

“No. Usually not, uh-” he didn't know what else to say. God was waiting for him to continue, so the truth slipped from his lips.

“The huge woodpecker wrecked my house in the hollow of a tree while I was away.  I just wanted to know if I could face off against a big bird. Like- wanted to check if I could hit and cause enough damage...”

The God frowned for just a moment, but then said with contained annoyance, “I’m sorry to hear that, but it doesn’t change the fact that I have a fucking wound in my wing, mate.”

Techno looked at the bloodied feathers, then back into the God's eyes. "It got bigger when you changed to larger form," the borrower argued.

“I didn’t hear any regret in your voice,” the God hinted.

“Well,” he muttered, “To be honest, not many people can say they almost one-shotted a God.”

The grip tightened even more, making it harder to breathe. Techno closed his eyes, trying to inhale, but the vibrations and surrounding sounds made it difficult for him to concentrate.

He’s definitely going to die now.

Technoblade braced himself to face a wrathful God, but found the laughing man. His laughter sounded like a mix of human and crow.

At this rate, Techno could put himself on the list of the most ridiculous deaths. His head started to hurt, and his vision got darker, probably because he could barely breathe while the God laughed at him.

“P-please…” the borrower tried to say, hoping to be heard.

The God looked at him again and loosened his grip.

“Oh, sorry, mate. Lost myself there for a while,” said the God, placing his palm under Techno and carefully releasing the borrower of his fist.

The God coughed into his free hand, most likely because he had been laughing for a long time.

Still smiling, he said, “I’m not a God, mate.”

“Heh?! You can’t be a human.”

The winged guy rolled his eyes, “Obviously. Not a God, and certainly not a human.”

 Technoblade noticed how the last word was said with a hint of disgust, but decided not to push it.

Now that they were both calmed down, an awkward pause ensued.

“Soooo… Whatcha gonna do?”, the crow-man asked curiously.

Techno blinked, unsure if he should bring it up again. “I mean... Don't you wanna pay me back for your wing?”

The man also blinked, and this time he slowly looked at his wing and then at the borrower. He shook his head, apparently realizing how it must have looked.

“I'm not gonna hurt you, if that's what you're worried about, mate.” the God shapeshifter assured him.

“Cool. Can I leave?”, Technoblade decided to ask.

“Um, sure…” the man said uncertainly for the first time.

He really found himself on the ground. He picked up his bow and slung it over his back.

Techno looked over his shoulder and saw the man staring at the ground with a disappointed look.

Techno sighed and then turned around. He called out, “Hey!”

Oh my god. Why can't he just not say things that could cost him his life?

Technoblade tried not to flinch as the man, many times his size, turned his attention back to the borrower.

“Why are you looking so sad, man?”

The shapeshifter rubbed the back of his neck, “I didn't want to leave it all on a bad note, you know. I don't feel right about it.”

He folded his clawed hands together, pausing to think about what he was going to say.

“Maybe… we could hang out together for a bit?”, the man asked without pressure.

Techno looked at the ground and ran his fingers over his forehead several times while he considered the suggestion.

“Okay, why not,” decided Technoblade, “I don't have important things to do that I would reject a 100% not-god with wings.”

The man chuckled and lowered his hand onto the ground, palm up.

“What’s your name?”, the borrower asked, trying to find balance on the fleshy platform.

“Philza, you can call me Phil,” Phil replied, slowly raising his hand to shoulder level.

“Technoblade. I’ll be fine with just Techno,” Techno introduced himself in return, moving from hand to shoulder.

“Are you hungry? I’ve got food stored nearby. It takes longer to walk, but we have time.”

“Got any potatoes?”

Phil was surprised by the sudden enthusiasm.

He laughed, which caused Techno to grab onto the collar of the man's clothes.

Philza noticed this and quickly calmed down. “Ye, mate. It’s actually most of my storage.”

“Awesome, dude. Let’s goooo!”

Philza stood up, slowly, so as not to knock his passenger off his shoulder.

Some questions remained unspoken. But for now, they're fine.

Technoblade let out a tired sigh as they walked toward their destination in silence. "Okay, this is awkward," he murmured.

Phil only chuckled softly and waited for his companion to continue.

“Listen, shouldn't you take care of the wound in your wing?”

“Oh, yeah, like... I should, but I don't have anything with me. You know, I can't carry much as a crow.”

“Yeah- sorry about that,” Techno muttered awkwardly.

“Oh, forget about it, mate. At least don't shoot me anymore. You're too good,” the man said with an exaggerated tone for the last phrase.

“Exactly, man. You'll be safe with me and my bow.”

Philza laughed.

Suddenly, he felt someone tugging on his collar, and he glanced down at Techno.

Before Phil could ask what was wrong, his gaze was drawn forward, and he couldn't help but grimace.

In the distance, a carriage filled with humans was passing by.

“We need to hide, Phil!”, Technoblade said quickly.

“Calm down, Tech. I don't need to hide.”, the shapeshifter replied calmly.

After these words, his wings turned into a black haori, and his claws took on a harmless appearance – slightly pointed human black nails.

“Wow. You can actually do that as well?”, said Techno in surprise.

“Have you forgotten that I can turn into a crow?”, Philza teased.

“I thought it was different from turning body parts into things.”, said the borrower almost sarcastically.

Phil snorted, but then he recalled something, “Did you want to hide?”.

“Yeah, but I’m getting an unpleasant feeling. You don’t have any pockets, do you?”

“Nope,” Philza replied easily.

“Oh my god,” the borrower said humbly as the giant hand carefully wrapped around him.

“Just so you know, I don't stink,” the man remarked as he tucked Techno under the collar of his kimono.

“Your words don’t make this place any more pleasant,” the borrower said with a mocking accusation in his voice.

“Shut- They’re close. Be quiet,” the shapeshifter managed to say when the cart wasn't that far away from them.

Philza hid his hands in his wide sleeves, in case his illusion was to be dispelled.

Humans seemed to be coming home from the fields.

Phil looked in their direction as they passed each other on the road.

One of the villagers gave him a strange look, as if Philza was a weirdo here.

Philza stopped abruptly, while the unsuspecting humans continued on their way.

Techno peeked out from under the green fabric to see what had made Phil stop walking.

His hands were back to normal, and they were shaking, as if he was barely holding himself together.

“Philza?”

“I'm gonna rip his head off,” the shapeshifter said with a cold-blooded voice.

“No, no, no, no, no. Don’t kill the villager. They didn’t do anything to you, man.”

“He looked at me funny,” Phil said derisively.

Technoblade patted the man’s chest, “It’s not even necessary, Phil. He- He’s just a hard worker.”

Philza sighed in disappointment, his wings regaining their original appearance.

“What a shame.”

“If you did that, I’d pretend I didn’t know you,” Techno tried to joke.

Maybe Philza wasn’t as friendly as he tried to appear. Or maybe he just hates humans, which would be fair… probably.

“That’d be awesome, mate,” Phil only replied and continued walking.

“Yeah, awesome for my nightmares,” Techno grumbled as he climbed back onto the man’s shoulder.

They walked in silence until Phil finally announced, “Okay, here we are!”

After settling on the grass, the man lowered Techno to the ground and handed him food from a storage.

Techno ate a fried potato and reflected on what had recently happened. Philza wouldn't tear him to shreds if he just asked, right?

He waited for Phil to finish his roasted rabbit and asked, "Don't you like humans?"

The winged man put down his food and thought for a moment before answering, "Yeah, mostly. What about you?"

Heh? He doesn't say why, but he doesn't change the topic either. Interesting.

“It's not that I hate them, they just can be annoying,” he began.

Philza nodded, putting his palms together.

“They have a lot of opportunities and resources, which are literally right in their hands, but some behave as if this isn’t enough for a happy life. Some of them just don't appreciate what they have. But they don't have to ‘survive’ like a bor–”

Technoblade interrupted his train of thought to clarify something, “I don't want to inspire pity for myself or something, it's just that annoys me in humans.”

“I get it, mate,” Phil said, finally smiling.

They ate in silence for a while, until Philza quietly added, “Humans don’t accept what they don’t understand, and they hurt those who are different from them. That’s why I hate most of humans.”

 Phil looked up at the sky through the trees, looking rather nostalgic and maybe a little sad.

His gaze finally returned to the borrower, and he added, “Only a few people have earned my respect.”

Techno nodded, thinking about these words.

He picked up a nut and rolled it in his hands.

Something rustled in one of the trees above them.

Oh, right.

The borrower remembered this part of the woods and smiled.

He whistled loudly and looked up at the branches.

Philza also looked up and gasped as the two squirrels descended towards Technoblade. One of them was white and the other was black.

“Do you know them?”, the man asked quietly, so as not to frighten the animals with his presence.

“Yeah,” Techno said, giving each of them a nut, “the white one’s Steve, and the black one’s Edward.”

“They look pretty friendly,” Philza noted.

Technoblade snorted. “For this time, yes. I swear. In the spring, those two just try to kill each other, but the rest of the time, they're fine. Edward's almost my roommate, but I couldn't live with him last winter because he doesn't like being looked in the eye. And I have no idea why."

Phil chuckled curiously, "I've seen black squirrels, but this is the first time I've seen a white one."

“I was surprised too, but then I found in one book that such animals are called albino. They’re just white by nature. So he’s a special boy.”

Techno stroked Steve’s head, brushing his fur.

Edward squeaked, as if jealous, and poked the borrower in the back with his nose.

“Okay, you’re also special. Little introvert,” Technobade chuckled, also stroking Edward’s head.

“Awww, can I pet them?”, Philza asked excitedly.

“I think Edward will be fine, but Steve doesn’t like strangers, so you better not touch him if you don’t want to get bitten.”

The man nodded and offered a nut to the black squirrel. It approached his hand and took the nut. Phil held the next nut closer to himself, so Edward had to climb onto his knee.

Philza smiled and gave Edward the treat. He managed to pat the squirrel on the back, although it stopped several times when Phil touched it.

Techno was looking after them, but Steve, as his real emotional support, started to attract attention. He chuckled and continued to pet the white squirrel.

Literally 2 minutes later, he heard Phil’s laugh, so he turned around. Edward was running around on Philza like a psycho. Like the man was a personal climbing tree.

“Oh, I think he likes you,” Technoblade remarked.

Philza caught Edward in his hand, not tightly enough for the squirrel to escape if it wanted to.

“Yeah, it seems so,” Phil chuckled.

“Wait,” Techno said suddenly, “don’t crows eat squirrels?”

“Uhhh, no. Not exactly,” the man replied thoughtfully, “They’re too small and quick to bother with.”

“Bruh...”

“What? It's true! I'm talking about crows in general, not myself. It doesn't make sense for ME to hunt them. I've never even tried to eat them!”

Techno gave the winged man a suspicious look, "Should I be worried?"

Philza snorted, “Stop it.”

“Just kidding,” Techno chuckled, "no offense."

Philza shook his head. He rested his chin on his hand, remaining silent for a while.

“By the way, have you tried riding them to move through the trees or something?”, Phil asked for some reason.

“No? If I fell from that height, it'd be deadly for sure. Why?”

“Would you like to fly with me when my wing is healed?”

“Do you think riding a crow is safer?”, Techno asked skeptically.

“I won’t drop you, I swear. It’ll be awesome.”

“That’s the same thing you said about killing a human,” the borrower grumbled.

“Dude! In the end, I didn't do it! And by the way, I'm not even bringing up that you shot me,” Phil argued with mockery.

“I apologized- Ok, you know what? For you, Phil, the world.”

Phil laughed a little. He caught the borrower's thoughtful gaze and smiled, celebrating his victory in the argument.

Techno doesn't know why he said these words, but he was sincere.

…

That’s it! The end!

If I forgot to add some TW, please, let me know.

If anyone is interested in this au, you can ask me about it and I will answer! I have several headcanons that came up while I was writing this story.

I made Technoblade more like a nerd who thinks he can calculate the entire world and chaotic/unstable Philza. (I like how writers describe him as more or less responsible adult, but I was reviewing old emduo clips and the one specific got my attention. Where he was giving the villagers a hard time and beating shit out of the golem. Maybe someone noticed the reference in lines.)

I hope it wasn't too bad for my first publication. The final version didn't include everything I wanted, but I'll keep it as it is.

Phil sighed in frustration and headed towards the back door.

When informed that he needed to relocate due to work, he hoped the new place would at least be livable. But all he got was the old wooden house that hadn't been lived in for several years. Yeah, it was spacious, and the heating, lighting, and water supply were in working condition but still… The advantages pale in comparison to the disadvantages.

There was nothing he could do about it. After all, the company had recently suffered a major loss due to the negligence of its management. However, he had not expected that they would choose to save money on his accommodation.

It took him a whole day to get the house in a more or less decent state. Philza decided to clean the living room because he was going to spend most of his time there, either working or hopefully sleeping. As soon as he entered the room, the terrible, musty smell of old books hit his nose.

Without thinking twice, he dumped all the junk from the shelves into boxes, including books. God, some of them were scattered on the floor.

"Hm? What's this?"

When he picked up one of the books from the floor, he noticed tracks of tiny footprints.

Great, he has a pest problem.

Something was weird. There were footprints near the books, but the pages were intact. Usually, rodents would tear up the pages of books to make their nests warmer.

Phil held his gaze for a moment longer, but then he just shrugged and continued cleaning.

He took all the useless things to the attic, where there was even more mess. If he stays here for a long time (he hopes not), he will have to call a loading truck to take away all this garbage.

The living room looked rather empty now, especially the wall shelf directly above the sofa.…

Oh, right! He had a lot of books that his colleagues had given him. And he didn't open any of them. Because he didn't really like reading unless it was audiobooks. He couldn't imagine himself just sitting with a book in his hands for hours. At least they would fill the void on the shelf.

He was already tired, even though only half of his things had been unpacked.

…

Done! Finally, a well-deserved rest.

The couch creaked under his weight. He closed his eyes for just a minute and then his phone rang. He groaned in frustration and took a deep breath in and out before picking up the phone.

His boss wanted him to speed up the project, even though he had set up a step-by-step work schedule with fucking deadlines! Who cared? Why did they agree to it in the first place if they didn't care about his opinion?

The man threw his phone on the coffee table next to the couch.

It was going to be a long week.

Phil didn't expect this place to be as much of an unbearable as his job. He couldn't get a good sleep in a new place, and this house just came to life at night — creaking of wooden floorboards, metallic rattling of old water pipes, and small gaps in the window frames caused a hum and whistle when the wind blew. He could have sworn he heard a quiet voice.

 “It's just the wind,” Phil told himself.

He just started closing all the windows tightly and only opened them occasionally when he was cleaning. Although he doesn't have time for that right now.

To be honest, Philza was relatively superstitious. It didn't really affect his life, as he didn't allow himself to openly worry about something as silly as a black cat crossing his path. If failure is meant to be, it will be. So Phil usually ignores any feelings of anxiety.

Perhaps his grandmother went too far with her 'colorful' stories about spirits, especially the ones that looked after a house. Scaring him with stories about evil people who were capable of putting curses on families because of jealousy. The good thing that he doesn't remember most of the details.

…

Despite his worries, nothing out of the ordinary happened in the past two weeks. You could even say that he settled in the house. Phil and his team had gone through the most difficult stage of the project and now he had a little more free time. At least now he could cook an actual food.

The oven closed with a dull metallic clang.

He glanced towards the overflowing trash can and noticed the ants.

“I should've dumped it yesterday,” Phil muttered and took out a repellent.

Ok now it’s time for a nap while the potatoes were baking. He wants to believe that the alarm clock will be able to wake him up this time.…

But it didn't seem to be necessary this time. Something fell on his head.

"Fuck!", he rubbed his forehead where it was sore.

The man picked up a book from the floor and turned it in his hands. He looked sharply at the shelf, but didn't notice anything unusual.

"Stupid book," he muttered and threw it on the coffee table.

He checked the time on his wristwatch. It had been only 40 minutes.

“Okay, that wasn’t the best awakening,” Phil said with a yawn. He stretched his arms out and heard a crack. No comment.

Philza turned his head towards the sound of rustling. He stood up on the couch so that his eyes were at the level of the shelf. It’s not that he’s afraid of mice, but he doesn’t want to deal with it.

Although, he needs to check anyway. He slowly pushed the things aside and saw a small crack in the wall. Next to it were some flaked chips of white paint. Maybe he's too sleepy to remember, but it looks familiar.

The smell of baked potatoes caught his attention. Just in time!

Because of the heat of the oven, he decided to open the window. Philza reached for the latch, then yelped as something sharp pricked his finger.

“What the fuck?!”

He pulled out a needle that was inserted into the latch. Is someone trying to jinx him or is this some kind of joke?

Even after all these years, he remembered that damn superstition. So, more for inner peace than for real protection, he broke the needle and threw it in the trash can.

Phil stared at the latch for a long time before noticing the same pieces of paint that he'd previously seen on the shelf. They lay scattered across the windowsill. That’s what made them look so familiar—they matched the paint from the kitchen window frame.

But what brought them to the shelf? Or who?

He really doesn't like the image in his head.

He has this feeling again that something is wrong, but he doesn't know what it is.

His heart started beating faster and breathing became more difficult. It felt like his stomach was twisted into a knot and he was about to throw up.

Philza clenched his teeth and shook his head.

Nonsense. Just ignore it.

…

He kept repeating to himself that the strangeness of this place was due to the fact that it was old as fuck. But because of his anxiety, he started paying more attention to small details.

Maybe this house is haunted.

At night, there were rhythmic knocks inside the walls that didn't seem random. Some things started disappearing, and the same book kept falling off the shelf without reason, but this time, not on his head. And why is it always The Art of War???

It's better to just leave it on the table. The next day, he noticed the book was open, but he doesn't remember opening it...

One sleepless night, he even thought he saw something run across his desk while he was working.

Is he going crazy?

He felt humiliated every time he flinched at a random sound, peered into the shadows as if something might jump out and attack him.

God, he even stopped turning off his work laptop so it could at least provide some light while he tried to sleep.

What a joke.

He's afraid of something that doesn't exist. Just a stupid old house.

It was already morning, as he replayed everything that happened over and over again in his head.

Maybe he wasn't making it up. He no longer understands what really happened and what his mind has imagined without proper sleep.

Barely opening his eyes, he tried to stand up and almost had a heart attack for a second. No one saw this embarrassment, thankfully.

He cursed and went to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. They were behind schedule due to some members being seriously ill, so the rest of the team and Phil were facing a tight deadline. He needs to lock fucking in.

Phil rubbed his face wearily and turned on the kitchen light. As his hand approached the coffee machine, something scurried towards the microwave. It definitely wasn't a damn mouse.

To his surprise, Philza quickly pushed the device to the side and caught a glimpse of a humanoid creature with a pink fluffy tail disappearing into a crack in the wall.

Phil recoiled and covered his mouth with his hand to muffle any sound.

Did he accidentally anger a household spirit?

What should he do now?

Philza was willing to bet 100 bucks that his grandmother was a seer and had been preparing him for a mission like this. Otherwise there would have been no reason to tell such scary stories. Now he wishes he had remembered at least one piece of her advice or a protective incantation, or even an old prayer.

Were Jesus and the spirits from the same universe, or had he just created a religious crossover?

He finally exhaled, even though he hadn't realized he was holding his breath.

Philza returned to his laptop and decided to refresh his memory. Of course, compared to his grandma, the information from the Internet — could be called ‘unreliable’ regarding this topic. But he had no choice.

…

He finished writing his notes. It turned out quite plausible, at least he thought so.

Perhaps it's the spirit of the former owner of the house. (Surely someone died in such a shitty house…)

It likes cleanliness. (Another reason to do a full-fledged cleaning)

Organize or take care of personal space. (But it seems to live in the walls?)

There should be no quarrels or swearing in the house… (I’ll try, but if I see it again, I do no promises.)

Maintain peace and quiet in the house. (I'm even willing to walk more quietly, as long as it doesn't decide to strangle me at night!)

As a sign of respect, I can make a gift or/and an offering (food).

The whole house was clean, except for the attic. He even managed to get his old but still working pocket watch. He put it in a jewelry box with a bunch of other shiny trinkets, as well as some nice buttons and a couple of colorful skeins of thread. He left the gift on the shelf next to the books.

It looks good. Hope it works.

…

He sighed when he found the small plate with food that he had left out yesterday. Ants, again.

Philza washed the plate and sprayed the ants with repellent again. He went to check the jewelry box and was pleasantly surprised when one of the buttons and a pink skein of thread were missing. That's definitely a good sign. Maybe it'll forgive him.

With a light step, he returned to the kitchen and froze. He slowly picked up a nearby mug and took a big step closer to the counter.

It was leaning against the metal wall of the microwave.

As soon as his shadow covered the creature, it turned around and looked up.

Phil silently covered it with a mug. There was a soft thud against the glass.

The man looked around, still holding the cup against the surface of the countertop, and reached for the cookbook. He slowly moved the cup to the edge, so that the creature was on the book.

That wasn't exactly part of his plan. He wasn't really going to catch it.

He stood there for a minute, just staring. If the cup had been transparent, it would have been a lot more awkward.

A window was a kind of portal for spirits, so maybe he could just...

With one hand, he was able to open the window. Phil extended the makeshift trap outwards. He only needed to raise the cup sharply and tilt the book. And so he did.

“HEH?!” the tiny creature cried out and clutched at the book’s spine. It turned its head towards the human and asked in an unexpectedly deep voice, “What are you doing?!”

Philza twitched, causing the little thing to shake up, and it yelled, “Stop it! Do I look like a spider?!”

“Are you an evil spirit?”, Phil asked seriously, still holding the book at an angle.

“What? No!”

Philza didn't look convinced, and the pink-haired guy added, "I'm a borrower! I could tell you more, but as you can see..." he tried to pull himself up with his hands, but it didn't work. "Imagine hanging from the top of a 5-story building. That's about how I feel right now!"

Finally, the man returned the book to a horizontal position and carefully placed it on the table.

The borrower jumped off the book, still breathing slightly unevenly. He looked over his shoulder at the human and said, “Omg, dude. What’s wrong with you?”

"Excuse me? I'm not the tiny guy with the tail and pointy ears." The man pulled up a chair to sit at the table.

"Don't worry. I forgive you," borrower said with a touch of generosity, smiling mischievously.

Phil rolled his eyes briefly, but then asked, “So what are you exactly?”, he curiously reached his hand towards Techno.

 “Hey! Watch it!”, he shouted, raising his hands defensively.

“Chill out, I won’t hurt you, mate.”

“Yeah, tell that to the sheet you tried to kill with a slipper.”

Philza blushed and then lightly poked the borrower in the chest, “You know exactly why I slept so badly.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, “I wasn’t fully awake and thought it was a ghost.”

Technoblade snorted, “I hope you paid for its treatment.”

Okay, that made Phil chuckle.

They exchanged names, and Techno needed both hands to shake the man's finger. Phil promised not to tell anyone about the borrowers, so Techno told him. In return, the man awkwardly told about how he tried to appease the 'spirit', which made Techno laugh.

“Okay, okay. To be fair, borrowers also have a lot of stupid scary stories about humans, and at least half of them are not true.”

When the borrower said it was half, Phil felt a little bad. Not to mention the fact that Phil tried to get rid of him like a pest. Maybe it's better to change the topic.

“So why are you living in this abandoned place?”

“Oh, it's a bit more complicated to explain... Okay, I'll use my family as an example. I didn't mention it earlier, but there are also borrowers who live outside. An outy rarely enters human homes, perhaps only during cold seasons or in emergencies. My father was an outy. One day he broke his leg and my mom helped him. Well, the rest is obvious, love, etc. Now he's a home-inner borrower. So when I was growing up, I knew both ways of survival. I currently use this house as my spring and summer base, and I live in other houses during the autumn and winter.”

"That doesn't sound very conveniently," Philza decided to say. Thinking about how much walking and climbing it would take to get all the way there.

Techno shrugged, "I don't like sitting in one place for too long, especially alone. I thought I'd start hearing voices in my head."

"Yes, I understand." He slowly brought his hand closer, palm up, and asked, "So what? Are you going to leave?"

The borrower placed his hands on the man's palm, surprised that it was thicker than it looked. He said, “I have to, because you saw me. But I could stay if you don't mind.”

Philza watched as Techno climbed onto his palm and said, “Of course you can stay, mate!  Although I wouldn't mind if you let me know your presence in the future.”

“Well, if you're gonna stop your damn gas attack. Seriously, what kind of fool bean sprays half a can of repellent with their windows shut?!” The fur on his tail stood on end when he was angry.

“Wait, was that your needle in the latch?”

"Yes! I came to borrow some food, but I almost passed out from the pungent smell. (By the way, that's why you found me today.) Then I tried to open the window, but I couldn't. So you deserved to get hit in the head with a book."

“Okay, fair enough, but we both need to adjust our behavior in order to live together in the same house.”

Techno was distracted and curiously ran his hand over one of Phil's life lines. Don't judge him for his relaxed behavior, he's never been this close to a human before.

“Techno?”

"Ah? Yeah, sure. I'm always open to suggestions."

He jumped off Phil's palm and went to pick up his belongings, which were still lying by the microwave.

At this time, Phil was thinking about how lack of sleep and anxiety had taken away all his energy. If he hadn't been so sensitive, he might not have pushed himself to this point…

No.

He doesn't need to think about himself in that way. He is who he is. This whole situation is just a big misunderstanding, and his superstition has simply worked against him. He's not ashamed of the way he was raised, despite the awkward moments he's experienced.

If you think about it, any children's tales prepare kids for the adult world, and scary stories simply try to warn them against dangers. Despite that twisted approach.

He is glad that he found Techno, despite the circumstances. Now he can be at peace at home, and maybe having a roommate will lift his terrible state.

The borrower had finally returned to him, so Phil decided to say, “Anyway, it's nice to know that this place isn't haunted, right?"

Technoblade looked at him as if he was seriously considering his question.

"Right?" Phil repeated, sounding more nervous.

“Nah. Just me.”

Philza quickly sighed with relief.

“You little shit, you got me for a moment!”

“I know. I love being difficult.”

The man rested his head on one of his hands and sighed, “I can tell.” He closed his eyes to think about something.

“Can I still take the watch?” Techno asked quietly.

Oh, Philza could already imagine spoiling this guy.

“Sure, mate.”

…

The end! I hope you enjoyed it!

When I was writing Phil's inner thoughts, I thought it was a bit like toxic masculinity, in that he was suppressing his emotions and thinking negatively about himself. He shamed himself for being afraid, especially afraid of something mystical (unreal). But just because he forbade himself from appearing frightened on the outside doesn't mean he wasn't. I think the combination of less sleep and anxiety played a good role, though ultimately, superstition also led him to completely doubting his own sanity.

At this point, Techno simply had question marks above his head when Phil acted 'strange' or atypical for someone who had noticed something wrong in house. Like setting mouse traps or something like that. Instead, the man simply gave him food, which Techno hesitated to take for fear of being poisoned. But Techno couldn't resist and took something from the jewelry box. He liked living outside, but there was plenty to do inside the walls, too. Sometimes his 'home-inner' side would whisper to him, "I wanna make my home pretty👉👈."

Imagine a borrower who calmly guts insects and fights back rodents, but still enjoys decorating their home within the walls.

It reminded me of Homily (The Secret World of Arrietty). As you watch, you can feel how much she loves her home and how cozy and comfortable it is. I'm sure if she wasn't so afraid of humans, she would have borrowed some of the kitchen utensils from that cool dollhouse. She would have justified it by saying that humans always lose things, especially small ones.

…

Thanks for taking the time to read it!