Hello everyone!
My name is Nata! (not my real name, lol) I'm a regular biology student, trying to stay sane, but I'm pretty sure I'm losing it, /jk
I like g/t and mcyt g/t (emduo mostly), so I sometimes post my ideas, headcanons and AUs.
I've always written about characters, not their creators. So obviously, c! not cc! (just in case)
Not sure if I'm good at writing, but I don't see any reason to stop. So yeah, let's go!
My AUs:
G/t:
#Fake god au (shapeshifter!philza, borrower!techno):
Campfire tales soon (Fake god au)
#Spectrophobia au (human!philza, borrower!techno)
Nightmare au soon (fairy!philza, human!techno)
G/t vore:
#Herbalist and Predator AU (naga!philza, human!techno + human!sneegsnag)
#Lost potential au + The Prologue (alien!techno, alien!dream, human!philza)
Not g/t:
#Domovoi au (spirit!philza, human!techno)
Doodles:
How to hold your borrower friend properly? (g/t meme)
If you're familiar with this story, you might remember how @tea-potato-gt responded to the ask. That the children and Briar probably wouldn't have become friends if the apocalypse hadn't happened. And I respect the author's opinion. But I thought. Hey, what if we put them in a different circumstance? So I wrote an alternate universe or something. I hope I didn't go too far beyond the character's personality...
I was interested in making the Monroe family different. What if they all moved from place to place together because their father/husband was in the military? I did a little research to understand the differences between 'regular' families and military families. And I realized it depends more on the individual than the profession. Of course, when you work in a specific job, you inevitably bring some things home (like discipline).
Children of military personnel, who often relocate, can be very sociable and become 'social chameleons,' or they might be very withdrawn due to anxiety (a lack of long-term and stable social connections). I also like the idea that Briar might have been more daring when he was younger, so I've allowed myself to make him a bit more so. He's still as cautious and thoughtful as ever, though.
I wanted to write this story much longer, but I didn't. So it might seem to you that they become friends in a short period of time... But I just decided to focus more on comfort.
So, I'll leave most of my reasoning at the end of the post!
...
No apocalypse au
Word count: ~3,7k
TW: swearing, sick mother (just in case)
Now…
Layla softly knocked on the wall and called out, "Briar."
The echo was supposed to spread the sound within the walls. A few minutes passed, but nothing happened. So she knocked a little harder, "Briar. Come out, please."
She waited for a little longer, lying on the floor of her room. And finally the old socket faceplate shifted, revealing a hole in the wall. Panting, the older borrower clambered out, leaving his escape route open.
He put his bag down and rested his hands on his hips. It wasn't out of anger. It was just that he already missed her, even though they had talked this morning, before she and Jace went to school. But he was too embarrassed to admit it openly, so he didn't want to touch her right away.
“What’s happened? I was busy with the tunnel in the living room, so I didn't hear you calling me at first.”
It's not that he wanted to tell any Bean such information, but Layla usually forgot half of what Briar told her because it was 'boring'.
“Could you help me?” the girl asked, shifting herself up to sit on the floor. Even so, she was still much above Briar's level. His neck wouldn't thank him for it, but he wasn't about to make a kid lie on the floor just for his comfort.
Layla placed one of her old but thankfully washed socks in front of him.
"Did it tear?” the borrower asked, sounding confused, “Do you want me to teach you how to sew?"”
"No. I-" She began to whisper, as if about to confess something in secret, "Mom's birthday is coming soon."
Briar hummed and scratched his chin, “Sorry, but I don’t see how your sock is related.”
“You know what theatre is?”
“Yeah. I even saw a rehearsal of one of the plays.”
He thinks it was called ‘The Importance of Being Earnest’, but he can’t be sure, it was so long ago.
“But the next day was the premiere, so I got out of there. My ears couldn't have taken it.”
Layla tilted her head to the side, “What was that about?”
He didn’t want to talk about a human deceitful nature. The borrower thought about what he could say to the 8-year-old child, “It was about… love.”
“Ew, gross," the girl grimaced. “Do you like that?”
Briar chuckled, “No, not at all. But most of it was fun, so I didn’t regret being stuck there.”
And before Layla could ask him about this story, he said, "So why did you mention the theater?"
“Oh, right! We're going to make a puppet theater! Jace changed mom's bedtime story. She'll like it! I'm super-duper sure!”
"I see. But what do you need my help for? You know I can't show myself to a Bean."
“But you still show up to me and Jace,” the girl pouted.
“That’s true, but I should have left a long time ago,” he said, pretending to turn toward the hole in the wall.
“No! Don't go, Briar!” Layla said, almost whining, putting her hands in his way. But not touching.
He reached for her thumb and stroked it soothingly. “I was just kidding, sweet girl," the older borrower admitted with a chuckle.
“Really?” she carefully placed the rest of her fingers on his back, giving some kind of a hug.
“Really, really.”
He was the first to step back and then walk towards their current victim, the sock.
“So, what are we doing?”
“I'm not very good with glue..."
"Hmm, I can do that. But," he looked inside the box of materials for making puppets, "I'll take the rest. Maybe I could make something useful out of this."
“Yes! The ‘pretty’ duo is back!” the girl parodied some line from the cartoon, but the borrowers didn’t watch TV, because it’s just a waste of time.
Layla began to arrange all the necessary materials in a way that was convenient for both of them.
The borrower found a piece of cloth and wrapped it around the lower part of his face. This would help him avoid passing out due to the smell of the glue.
He would have to speak much louder to be heard, but he didn't worry about attracting unwanted attention.
The mother of the family was ill and bedridden. Her room was located in the opposite part of the house, and she spent most of her time sleeping.
Huh… It seems like almost 2 years ago.
How quickly time passes.
…
2 years ago…
Briar heard a noise, as if a bunch of beans suddenly broke into the house. Although he had been living here for about 3 weeks, he was certain that this wasn't normal. Something was happening.
As he moved through the only safe tunnel, he could hear loud voices getting farther away. Someone was hurt? It wasn't that he cared, but there were children in this house.
“Jason, look after your sister! Close the door and don’t let anyone in!”, the head of the family said.
The borrower vaguely remembered the boy complaining that his father was spending less time at home. It seems that he arrived this morning while Briar was exploring a new route within the walls.
After a while, the older borrower looked out of a hole above a kitchen cabinet. He didn't see any beans nearby, but he could hear the children talking somewhere in the house.
“Okay, stupid-head!”
Someone slammed the door loudly. Briar startled.
He climbed to the top of the kitchen cabinet and looked far down.
It seems that the girl was hungry and decided to find food on her own, but the fridge door was stuck too tightly, and she couldn't open it. She whimpered in frustration and started scanning the surroundings.
In the middle of the table was an open package of sliced bread, and behind it was a knife. It looked like the girl didn't notice it from her angle and started pulling the tablecloth towards her.
The borrower's heart sank.
“Stop!” he shouted, but immediately hid back.
Layla stopped and looked behind her.
There was no one there.
So she reached for the tablecloth again.
“Stop it right now, child!” the voice rang out again.
This time she looked up and gasped to see the tiny man.
“Why are you so short? Are you magical?”
“I wouldn’t say I’m short. And no, I’m not.”
“But you’re small!”
“I can say the same about you, girl,” the man chuckled. He needed to distract her from himself, “Are you hungry?”
The girl nodded and looked back at the table, “Can I have some bread?”
Briar blinked. She was asking his permission?
“Why isn’t your brother with you?” The borrower began to climb down onto the countertop, as it was safe enough.
As expected, Layla came closer, and only by standing on tiptoe could she see where Briar was standing. In another situation, he might have been amused, but right now he was focused on making sure those ‘little’ hands didn’t grab him.
“It was noisy. I didn't understand what it was. Jace told me to leave him!”
A tired sigh. “Then I’ll help you, but you have to do what I say. Okay?” he tried to sound authoritative and serious, but his growing smile made it a little difficult.
“Okay!” the girl replied, stepping back because she was tired of standing on tiptoe.
“I think you have a step stool in the bathroom. Can you bring it here?”
Layla nodded, even though she couldn’t see the borrower from here.
That way she could climb onto the chair safely. Which is what he suggested when she returned.
The borrower remembers her whining to Jace about how she didn't like climbing on the high chairs in the kitchen. Or maybe she liked being lifted. Briar didn't share her enthusiasm for the matter.
“I can literally see what you’re thinking, girl,” the borrower said more sternly, “Don’t try to get to me, or I’ll leave.”
“No, don’t go! I just wanted to see…” pouting a little, she leaned the step stool against the chair and climbed on top of it.
“Oh, I shouldn’t touch that.”
"Right, can you move it to the middle of the table? Don't touch the sharp part."
So, the knife was no longer a problem. Now he had to figure out how to feed the giant kid. Maybe just bread wasn't enough.
They needed to find something that could act as a lever.
There was an unfinished cup of coffee on the table, which the father had left in a hurry.
Oh, he noticed the spoon. Perfect.
Thanks to Briar's instructions, the girl managed to open the fridge and reach the jam jar.
She turned to look at Briar and he gave her a thumbs up.
After a while, Jace came into the kitchen rubbing his red eyes and exclaimed, “Layla! What a mess!”
The tablecloth was stained with strawberry jam in places where his little sister had been able to reach. He sighed wearily, “It looks like a crime scene.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have left her alone, boy.”
“Who said that?!” Jace asked, shielding Layla with his back. He wasn’t sure where the unfamiliar male voice was coming from.
“We made jam sandwiches!”
Jace ignored his sister's words and tried to figure out where the voice was coming from.
What he definitely didn't expect was for the voice to address him.
“Are you all right, boy?”
…
Jace was annoyed that the borrower trusted his little sister more than he did. She even knew his real name! He tried to find out, but Layla got angry and tattled on him to the borrower. The man wasn't thrilled either and refused to talk to him. It could also be because Jace was trying to track his voice to find their mysterious friend within the walls.
Jace was used to getting information in every possible way, but it seemed to be working against him this time. Usually, asking directly caused a negative reaction, and he didn't want to irritate or anger anyone. He was tired of guessing the reaction of the faceless voice from the walls. He needed clues to increase his chances of not messing up. But it seemed like he had already...
Recently, Layla told him they just needed to talk. Could it really be that simple?
His hand hovered over the doorknob. Why did he feel like his father was about to scold him?
He specifically asked his sister what time the borrower came to chat with her.
Jace finally opened the door and caught a glimpse of something dark slipping towards the socket where Layla was lying, drawing on the floor.
“Wait!” The boy came closer and also lay down on the floor, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry!”
Layla sighed in annoyance, “Did you forget to knock first?”
But her brother just stared at the same place.
“Meet me in the kitchen,” the voice finally said, “And no funny business, boy.”
Jace wanted to follow the order respond to the request immediately, but the socket’s faceplate suddenly shifted and returned to its place.
They remained in the kitchen in silence for a while. The boy leaned against the counter, with a cabinet above him, from which the voice usually came.
“It seems that an apology isn’t the only thing you had to say to me.”
Jace straightened, looking straight ahead, but not up, “Yes, sir.”
“Don’t call me that,” the voice grumbled.
“But you didn’t tell me your name,” Jace complained quietly.
The borrower changed the subject, “I’m listening, boy.”
“Yes. Again, I'm sorry for my actions,” he paused to carefully consider what he was about to say next, “I would never hurt you and… I just wanted to know what you look like.”
“Why?”
He should have just made a joke and not brought it up again. With each passing second, Jace began to regret starting this conversation. What if he said something wrong? Should he say what the borrower wanted to hear or tell the truth?
“I like you.”
Silence.
Apparently, this confused the borrower. So the boy took this as a sign that he could continue speaking.
“I like the way you tell stories to Layla, since our mom can’t. You’re smart, honest, funny, and…I respect you.”
Jace really did, although he hadn’t said much out loud.
The man snorted, “You’re a flatterer, kid.”
“That’s not flattery!”, Jace’s voice rose slightly, but he cut himself off by covering his mouth with his hands.
He lowered himself to the floor, saying, “I’m sorry.” No one liked being yelled at or shouted at, Jace knew that from experience.
And the borrower was the last person who deserved to be treated this way. He really helped Jace out a lot. Despite all the sarcasm, this voice always spoke honestly and without judgment. Even when the young man's thoughts were confused or the attitudes instilled by his father were preventing him from making the right decisions.
The boy was used to keeping his true thoughts to himself, but now he could say what was on his mind. Jace had some information that he had managed to get which the borrower had allowed him to know.
“The life you were talking about is similar to what happened to us not long ago. Well, before mom got sick.”
He wasn’t sure if the borrower was still there, but he continued speaking anyway.
“Although it’s not the same, I understand what it’s like to move to a new place over and over again. And it was difficult for me to part with my friends due to the relocation. That’s why my father advised me not to get attached to people and not to make real friends…”
“Bullshit,” the voice interrupted, sounding a little closer, but still somewhere above, “Is that a reason not to make friends? The memories of them will stay with you, even if you never see them again.”
“I…I hadn’t thought about it that way,” Jace admitted. “But I guess every time we moved, I was just…” he couldn’t say the word out loud. His father always said it was not appropriate for a man to be-
“Scared?”
“Yes,” the boy said with relief, but still feeling those phantom anxieties.
“Hmm, I thought you said that you moved to different countries. Was it harder to get used to and make friends there?
“Well, yes and no. We lived in a military town where we had everything we needed. I went to a special school with the children of the military just like me, where everyone spoke the same language, although some of my friends knew several languages. The boy smiled as he remembered, “They taught me a few things.”
“Oh? Like what?”
“Swearing.”
Laughter rang out above his head, but he still remained in place. No need to raise his head unless ordered to.
“Makes sense, boy.”
Jace paused for a moment, reminiscing about all the mischief he had done with his old friends, and then his smile fell.
“The place we lived in changed, but the rules and routines didn’t. The people around me changed, but the ‘home’…”
He clutched the fabric of his pants and pulled his knees closer to his chest. “At least it was better with mom, she insisted that we needed to go out and explore the local culture. I still don't understand how she managed to convince him every time."
"Well, it seems that even your asshole father knows how to love," the borrower paused for a second, realizing what he had just said. He quickly added, "Sorry, I didn't mean to say-"
But Jace laughed.
The boy rubbed his eyes a bit, "No, it's okay. He really acts like an asshole sometimes,” he mumbled, “Maybe even more than sometimes.”
“Don’t get me wrong, but it’s better if you think about what’s bothering you yourself. I think you’d come up with better ideas than he would.”
“And you called me a flatterer?”
“You still have room to grow.”
Briar is confident that nothing is lost for this young man, but…
“By the way, I saw your experiment with the toaster.”
Jace shrugged automatically, "Nothing burned, so it's a win-win situation.”
“Seriously, boy! That’s a waste of food!”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
“What did you just call me?”
Jace sighed, “I don’t know how to address you.”
He was already getting used to the slight pauses that occurred while the borrower considered his words.
“Okay. Sit down near the table and don’t move until I tell you to. Please.”
It's strange how just one word can turn an order into a request.
He heard some quiet rustling, and all he had to do was get up and...
But no, he waited patiently, not trying to peek.
“Try to guess my name. The first letter is B.”
“Bruno?”
“Mmm, nice try,” the man said with amusement. Then his voice trembled slightly, “Y-you can look up.”
Jace slowly raised his gaze.
A quiet pause.
He looked at the older borrower, who was sitting almost on the edge of the counter, with one leg dangling over the side.
Jace smiled mischievously, “You look tougher than I imagined, boss.”
The man snorted, but then said quietly, “It’s Briar. You can call me by name.”
“Thank you, Briar.”
…
Now…
They decided to set up a puppet show in front of their mother's bed so she wouldn't have to get up. Jace helped set up the wide cardboard walls so that the ‘actors’ could hide halfway while they controlled the puppets in the center. Layla arranged the most beautiful towels to mimic a curtain on the sides of the walls. Briar was hiding nearby. Only the children could see him, and he silently supported them by raising his thumbs up.
They giggled, then glanced at their mom.
She waved at them, smiling softly.
Jace and Layla nodded to each other. It was time to start.
The original story was about a spirit who looked after the house and secretly helped the family. He usually didn't show himself to humans, but when the family moved, they would invite him to go with them to their new home. So no matter where the family moved, they would feel at home.
But in this version, the children accidentally caught the spirit and became friends with it. He continued to help the family, giving them advice and making sarcastic jokes, but it was mostly a kind spirit, even if it was mischievous.
And when it was time to take a bow, the kids realized they only had 4 arms, and there were 5 puppets. Briar slapped his forehead and quickly ran under the set to avoid being seen. He ducked into the last sock puppet and prayed to anyone listening that their mother didn’t notice. Now all the dolls were holding hands and taking a bow.
Amanda started clapping, though not as much as she wanted to. She cleared her throat a bit before speaking, “I like it! I like this version even more than the original.” She opened her arms for a hug, “Come here, my star lights.”
At that moment, the borrower slipped back to the walls, but he didn't leave.
He saw Jace reach for a gift that he had hidden nearby.
“Here! I thought this would be more useful than some trinket.”
Firstly, he had doubts about the idea, and he was genuinely surprised when Briar suggested it. However, based on his mom's reaction, he realized that the borrower was right.
Amanda looked at the high-quality sports water bottle, then at her son, “Where did you get the money?”
Ernest was strict about pocket money, so she wasn’t sure about it...That he would have been able to save up the amount.
“I earned most of it at school.” He realized that sounded ambiguous, so he clarified, “I sold test answers to my classmates.”
“Oh, Jace. You shouldn’t have-”
“Mom.”
She fell silent, and her son took her hands in his. Had they grown so much in the last two years?
“You can’t overexert yourself, and it's a useful thing. Lays has tested how easy it's to lift and open this bottle with just one hand.”
“Yeah!”
The woman sniffed and pulled them into another hug, “I have such good kids. You're the best kids in the world.”
Jace and Layla giggled, hugging their mom back.
Amanda pulled back a little to look at her son’s face, “But how did you know?”
“Well, I have my sources,” the boy said mysteriously but proudly.
Mom gently ran her hand through his red hair, “Since when are you so business-like?”
"Everyone has their own little secret," he winked at his younger sister, and she giggled.
They removed their 'props' and left their mom's room because she needed to rest. Briar was still peeking out from his hiding place.
He knew what it was like to lose strength in his arms and legs due to illness. He had even had to take care of his younger siblings when they were unable to hold small objects or even get out of bed.
It was unusual to see that even Beans could be weak and helpless when they were ill. So he felt a little sorry for her when Amanda spilled the glass of water that had been left for. The children were at school, and the husband was at work. There was no one around to help her.
His observational skills helped the children choose a small gift, although it was insignificant. But it was still nice thing.
Now she could put the bottle next to her so she didn't have to reach for the nightstand. Lately, even that took all her energy. The sports bottle was designed to prevent spilling even when opened, and the latch could be easily opened with a single finger.
When Briar was about to leave, he heard the woman's quiet voice, “I think we also have a spirit that protects our family.”
The borrower tensed, but it looked like she was just muttering to herself, “Thank you, whoever you are.”
Amanda settled back and placed the water bottle not far from her.
Briar just stood there for a while. His smile slowly grew and he nodded, even though no one would see it.
He returned to his tunnels in high spirits.
…
That's it, the end!
You can see the obvious hints that this story was meant to be much sadder. But then I wouldn't be able to fit everything in one post.
Briar stayed close to beans in this story because he didn't want to lose sight of how much danger they posed. Especially since there has been a breakthrough in technology. Now borrowers should pay attention to devices that can take pictures, record videos, and broadcast live. Well, that's not the only reason. He just prefers to keep his friends close and his enemies even closer. It wasn't that he hated them, but he still despised people for all the bad things they could do just at will.
I don't know if you noticed the coincidence, but... I accidentally chose the title of a play that Briar saw a rehearsal of in his youth. I watched the film (2002). It was funny and suited the story. The borrower could still condemn humans in his mind, but at the same time, explain the main idea to the child. And for the last part, I needed to remember the parents' names. Oh, I laughed so hard! Their father's name is Ernest! It's very ironic. But Briar didn't get it, because he, like me, didn't care about the name of this bean."
In the beginning, Jace tried to be like his father, copying his model of behavior. But obviously nothing good came of it. Briar made that clear. The boy was meant to be more manipulative, which is why he couldn't gain the borrower's trust for a long time. But after realizing it, their friendship should have gradually improved.…I also like that Briar trusted Lays first.
After their mother got sick, he had a lot of responsibility on his shoulders, because they wouldn't be moving anytime soon. And their father couldn't be at home all the time. It didn't help that their father had high expectations for his son. You know how a disappointed father can be worse than a belt? Similar situation.
Layla, on the other hand, was starving for the attention of an adult figure. Her mother couldn't give her the attention she needed, and her father was difficult to impress. All he could say after work in the evening was, “Good job”. Possibly without even looking at what his daughter was showing him. So she desperately needed Briar, who praised her for everything. (And he's just such a girl dad that he can't deny her xD)
Amanda was bedridden and felt like a burden to her family. Surprisingly, her husband showed unconditional love for her despite his bad temper. She couldn't know about her children's problems because they didn't tell her anything. They didn't want to bother her, or she was so ill that she was unconscious most of the time. Now, her son was taking on the household responsibilities.
[Since they moved around a lot, I figured that the grandmother wouldn't be able to handle it because of her age. So, she stayed in her own house and doesn't have the opportunity to see her family often. I didn't want to kill her, so that's her fate!]
The children were practically left on their own. It was supposed to be Jace lashing out at Briar because of the accumulated stress. But the borrower still stayed around, he couldn't leave them alone in such a difficult situation...
Although I didn't add any new characters, there's something special about the bedtime story. Yep, it's from my people's mythology, but Jace made very strong references/hints to Briar.
I like the idea that Jace knows swear words in multiple languages and accidentally says one in front of his little sister. I just imagined him hitting something and shouting, “Blyat'!” Layla just tried to repeat it, but she said a shorter and softer version, “Blya?” xD
So my headcanon is that he knows Russian, Spanish, and Japanese swearing.
I think I said everything I was going to say, but I feel like I forgot something…
'A Borrower at the End of the World', It's a great story that I recommend you read if you haven't already! Big thanks to @tea-potato-gt for this masterpiece.
The story takes place in a post apocalyptic world where survival is not an easy task. Adult borrower finds two giant children with zero survival skills and decides to help them. Will he deny that he has grown attached to them over time? Oh yeah :з
Here are my doodles of what the Razors look like! (I'm not an artist, so I used photo references of a bunch of animals) I did my best to match the author's canon, but I realized I can't draw fur, lol :D
Imagine finding someone's diary with notes about these creatures...
If anyone's curious why I chose this design, keep reading – the following text is for you.
Nerdy explanation:
A rather lanky build that allows for complex maneuvers, including long limbs and a muscular torso;
They have paws with retractable claws (like cats), allowing for silent movement; They're more careful than dogs when they move, but they can be a bit clumsy inside buildings because they're blind.
They have electric sensors (like sharks) on their elongated muzzles with large nostrils; and, of course, sharp teeth;
Owl-like hearing, an ear canal without an auricle covered with a disk-shaped fur + false ears (which are actually just a fold of skin that stretches when the mouth is opened);
These nimble pack creatures about the size of a wolf with a ravenous appetite. Even though they're blind, their sense of smell and hearing is acute. When the mouth is open, the false ears stretch around the ear canals to collect sound, essentially working as auricles. Of course, they can hear with their mouth closed, but not as well. So they need to open their mouth to listen more closely. The electric sensors on their muzzle detect the slightest changes in the electrical fields at a distance of 1 meter, such as muscle movements (including breathing). They emit moans to stress the victim and cause it to move or breathe more actively, allowing Razors to "sense" it. They reach sexual maturity in just one year, which allows them to reproduce and rapidly expand their population. Cubs are able to hunt independently just 4 weeks after birth, though they still remain with the maternal pack.
This creature is a hybrid of a Bull terrier, Borzoi, Tiger, Lizard (Phrynocephalus mystaceus, to be specific), Shark, and Owl…So I like to think that only some mad scientist could have created such a mutant specifically for killing people, but something went wrong and they're now free. With an eternal hunger that they can never satisfy…
It was strangely enjoyable to think about this headcanon design. I hope it turned out scary enough :з
My first name would definitely be Fire, since that’s what I go by most places- maybe last name Spud because of my tumblr user? On one or two things I have FiretheVampire either so my last name could also be Vampire-
orrr it’d be based on something I did/a team I was hypothetically on lol
First name definitely Munchkin, then either the fandom would do something weird with the number to make them sound like a name OR it would be like. Listh for Reasons
Or of course a team or event! Or smp or lore thing or whatever
aaaaand I don’t really know that many people to tag so will only do @i-am-beckyu !
Actually before I joined tumblr I used to be a twitch minecraft streamer. Unfortunately I had a bad experience with an online stalker which basically killed it for me and haven't gone back since, but it was a lot of fun. I had a whole a persona of wearing cow onsies and making 'friends' with the cows using 'sharp sticks'. Considering my nickname was the Cow slayer, you can guess how that went lol.
These days though I guess it would be Beckyu, but if fics were written I'd say everyone would stick with Becky lol. Chances are I'd still be off making friends with sharp sticks and causing a ruckus lol. That makes me feel like I'd somehow get nicknamed Beckyu Slayer...
Any how, GET TAGGED!!! @dingbatnix @bag-o-gummies @nata2343
Finally, my nickname history is useful somewhere, lmao.
For about 7-8 years, I was "nata2343" 'cause the fucking "this nickname is already taken" made you add numbers. Because of this nickname, everyone thought my real name was Natasha, and I was like, "Hmm, well, I don't want to reveal my real name anyway, so yeah. I think I have a new name now." ( I was a sensitive kid, so it was easier for me to get over negative experiences on the internet under a fake name. After all, they were saying nasty things to "nata/natasha" and not me xD)
But before that, I had a nickname for about a year: denchik2342 (like Denis), because the fucking gaming community was super sexist back then. It was so satisfying to beat up a man in a shooter game who had recently told me, "Go play with dolls."
If I were an mcyt, I would use my more recent nickname - holysugar. I just realized that it sounds a bit illegal, but I didn't think about it back then.
The nickname was inspired by the name of my old group on VK. In high school, I translated Undertale comics 'cause I was tired of waiting for my favorite comics to be translated, so I started doing it myself (I'm not doing it anymore, and the group was deleted). Even with a translator, it was difficult for me to communicate with someone in private messages, 'cause I (and translator) didn't understand the context, so I just used machine translation.
One person even blocked me because I thought I needed to pay for permission to translate xD
So my username would be Holysugar, and everyone would just call me Holy (at least that's what my English-speaking friends on Twitter did) :з
Now, the tags. Let me think... Maybe it's your turn @cyncerity @the-sussy-imposter2
popping back in with fanart for my friend @i-am-beckyu's fic "Just out of Reach, but Never out of Sight" :DD (which you can read right here and you totally should)
featuring a lonely little sizeshifter c!Tommy who just wants a family,, and c!SBI who are normal humans and worried about this strange teenager in ragged clothes who doesn't seem to have ever heard of pizza <3
I have absolutely ranted in Marque's DM's about this already but I am doing it again because they deserve it.
I FLIPPEN ADORE THIS ART SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!! It's literally everything I asked for and Marque has been so wonderful asking me questions and legit making me work hard considering all aspects of things I hadn't considered to get everything just right!!! The fact I sent literal stick figures of what I was hoping to create and it's turned into this absolute master piece is INSANE! I can not count the number of times I was squealing in delight at the update snippets. So massive massive MASSIVE THANK YOU MARQUE!!!! YOU ARE A LEGEND AND I ADORE THIS!!! Needless to say, this is the official cover work for Jornos <3
If you are not following them already, you 1000% need to right now as you will not be disappointed by their artistry!!!!
Thank you again Marque!!! Literally the best!!!!!!!!!!
Hello everyone! Sorry for the late post, there's been some instability with the electricity in my city lately, and it was especially frustrating when it lasted almost a whole day, so... Yeah, the universe shouldn't have left me alone with my thoughts without internet or mobile service. I spent a lot of time thinking about my AUs, including this one. As a result, the number of words increased, and the short story evolved into the big oneshot!
[с! not cc!] [In this story, I use pronouns: Techno (he/him), Philza, and Dream (he/they)]
So, there's a c!dream in this story, and I've never written about him, so I'm not sure how well it turned out. It's mostly an emduo g/t vore, but also a bit of a doomsday trio g/t. The 'scientific' part is all made up, so don't think too much about it.
Notes: Remember when I said I didn't want to draw attention to Philza's sad backstory in the main story? Well, it turned out to be a bit more tragic than I originally intended, and it ended up being something like hurt/comfort…
…
Earth, or the planet coded E-60c, perished, and the blame for this lay with its own child – humanity. Humans had the potential and resources to become an interstellar or even intergalactic civilization. However, their own greedy desires clouded their minds, and instead of uniting and breaking free beyond the confines of their own galaxy, they fought amongst themselves. And when their planet began to die, it was already too late to do anything.
The Galactic Government (GG), observing this tragedy, did not stand idly by and took a certain number of humans to a so-called ‘reserve’. This place was located on one of the GG's satellites in another part of the universe and was named after the Earth satellite, Moon-2. Most of the characteristics of this celestial body were viable for humans, except the temperature. That's why a complex climate control system was installed here. Even then, not all of the territory was at a favorable temperature, and humans had to travel between cities using special transport. But over time, everyone quickly got used to it, and it became the norm.
The management system, leadership, and hierarchy were all simplified and made as transparent as possible for their own good. Every adult had a role in the new society depending on their abilities and inclinations toward certain activities. Some outstanding minds were even allowed to work in the Galactic Government in prestigious positions. Everyone had access to quality education, healthcare, and other essential needs.
It has been 30 cycles, or 300 years by human standards – 12 generations have grown up here. However, during the migration to Moon-2, there were people who decided to undergo cryo-sleep for some reason. This procedure can only be done once in a lifetime, so it’s very important to think about the date of your defrosting. Еvery few cycles you can see such people. They were often interviewed to hear their impressions of the future, of new technologies integrated into human life – in short, about everything that was different at the time they entered the cryo-capsule.
In general, it's an interesting experience and young people in each cycle are largely enthralled by the perspectives inherited from the past, particularly the utopian ones. But, such idealistic concepts have always been detached from reality. And of course, there's the conviction that these people are from the same era as the founders of the colony on Moon-2, who set off for another part of the universe to save humanity.
It's ridiculous, isn't it? To make such a big deal out of people who were just trying to save their own skin.
…
Techno was a young worker at the Scientific Galactic Community, specialized in maintaining macro- and microclimatic systems. He was sent to Moon-2 to perform maintenance and adjust settings for the next 3 years due to a drop in temperature on the satellite. This happens every few cycles, but this year saw record-breaking lows. So, he'll be spending some time getting it right.
He was studying human culture at university and got into some of the ideas. Like anarchism, for example, despite being a rather utopian and contradictory system of beliefs, he still enjoyed thinking about it.
His thoughts were interrupted as everything around him tilted – the spaceship had finally landed. He was supposed to be met by the satellite keeper, but he knew nothing about the guy beyond his name. As soon as he stepped outside, he was met by an Arachnitian. They were also humanoid, but a spider-like race with two pairs of arms. On their torso was a white spot with two black dots and a line shaped like a creepy smile, while the rest of their body was bright green. Honestly, Techno almost laughed when he saw it.
“My eyes are up here,” the voice said impassively in Common Galactic.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. It's the first time I've met someone like you,” Techno said awkwardly, rubbing his pink fur on the back of his neck.
Dream shook his head, "Forget about it. I'm glad SGC responded so quickly and sent us a climate engineer," he put all his hands together and made a little bow.
Techno repeated the gesture and then said, "I'm also glad to arrive here, I'm counting on you."
“We’d better hurry, it’s gonna get even colder.”
He nodded and followed his guide. He wasn't much for chatting up strangers, but he needed to know something, "What's it like? Being the keeper here?"
Arachnitian looked over his shoulder, “Are you interested in humans?”
Technoblade paused for a moment, "Kind of."
It wasn't quite a lie. As a rational species, they had clearly messed up. But if you ask his opinion, it was akin to lost potential. The Galactic Government makes exceptions for outstanding individuals to recruit them, while preventing them from developing in other fields. Sure, it means they don't lose great people on Moon-2, but still... They were capable of so much more.
The green alien returned his gaze forward and after a short pause said, "Pretty good, actually. I thought it would be worse."
Not everyone could breathe the same air as on Moon-2, so Techno was recommended primarily for this work. It seems that Dream could also breathe normally here, and only occasionally took a breath from a special device with a higher concentration of oxygen.
Before he could ask anything else, Dream held out a hand in front of him.
They reached the border of the warm zone, and a human city was visible relatively nearby to their left. Ahead, in the dead zone, stood a complex, branching system that seemed to benefit from the surrounding low temperature.
“Put this on,” Dream said, handing him a special jacket.
Techno waved his hand, “I’ll be fine,” but took it as a token of appreciation.
The Arachnitian shrugged and, dressing warmer, stepped across the border.
He followed him, and despite being a Piglin, even he felt cold; he sneezed almost immediately due to the sudden change in temperature. Now more than ever, he was grateful for his warm fur, but it seemed even he would have to put on clothing like his companion.
A human couldn’t endure here for 20 minutes.
Most of the races in the galactic community were giants, unlike humans, so it's clear that body size also affects susceptibility to cold.
They got to the right place pretty fast, and Techno made a clicking sound when he was done checking out the climate system. He often mumbled while working, "I'll have to lower the temperature for the humans to temporarily stabilize the external system. It looks like autumn and winter will have to be shifted closer in this cycle."
Dream watched him silently for a while, but eventually spoke, "Do you know why this is all so poorly engineered?"
"You're aware that the project was developed in a rush, right?" Techno threw his tools down and carefully closed the panel cover.
“That doesn’t explain…” Arachnitian waved both his left hands vaguely in the air, “this.”
"Fair enough.” He sighed, trying to think of the best way to explain it, “That was the only dependable choice, though not the most practical one. Even after so many cycles, no one has managed to improve the system to a decent level. The important thing is that it has been running without breaking all this time."
“It could be better for them- I mean, for me. I'm also uncomfortable traveling between cities in this cold.”
“Oh, so you’ve attached to them,” Technoblade snorted in a friendly manner.
"Stop it." Dream hissed, his mandibles opening wide above his lip, but they quickly returned into place, "Just say that no one cares."
“Well, I do.”
Dream gave him an appraising look, as if searching for lies in his words.
Piglin continued, “It’s impossible to do something like this on my own, and I couldn’t think of a better way to do it. It’s not my strong suit, to be honest.” He folded his arms thoughtfully, “We need a good architectural engineer!”
“I doubt they'll make this project a priority, given the opportunity for more esteemed assignments in prime star systems.”
Techno shrugged, "I just shared my thoughts with you. If you do manage to get the GG's attention, then call me," he extended a fist forward, awaiting a reciprocal gesture...
Wait. He forgot that in his culture, this expression of respect would likely be misinterpreted and-
Laughter.
He blinked, still holding his outstretched hand in the air.
Dream smiled at him for the first time and extended his fist in return, “I appreciate it. Although it sounded like you were making fun of me.”
“What? Me? No… maybe just a little,” he got a slight push on the shoulder.
Techno turned around to look at the panel he had recently closed. Local climate change indicators were displayed next to it.
“Hey, сan I ask you for help? I need to monitor the temperature boundary in this sector, but it will be faster if we do it together.”
“Sure,” Dream put a bunch of portable thermometers in his bag, “Communicators don't work in the cold, so message me when you finish your part.”
Techno nodded and put his own equipment in the bag.
“Oh, and one more thing. If you see any freezeheads, bring them back to the warm zone.”
“Freezeheads?”
“Yeah, some humans are acting weird after cryo-sleep. Sometimes I feel like they're just trying to freeze their brains in the dead zone. And I don’t understand why.”
“After defrosting, you can't just immediately start walking, right?”
Dream shook his head, “Humans are different from us in this regard, but they’re unstable. Every time they manage to escape somehow, and every time I get a vague explanation...” he adjusted the bag on his shoulder, “Ok, I’m off.”
…
Techno vigorously rubbed his hands together and breathed on them a few times to warm up. The cold was already seeping into his bones, though it hadn’t even been 40 minutes yet.
He didn't notice anything strange on the way here, so he decided to do one last check of the perimeter.
He saw someone small lying on the ground.
Even though it wasn't a significant distance from the border, especially for someone with such long strides, Piglin still speed up.
Techno carefully but quickly picked up the unconscious golden-haired man. He was dressed in thin clothing, like from the Earth Age – jeans, a green shirt, and an unremarkable black cloak with white diamonds along the edges.
The man moaned when he was touched, so Techno hurried back to the warm zone, but the border lacked the heat to thaw the little thing.
He looked around, but Dream wasn't nearby, and the communicator needed time to thaw.
Ideally, the man should have been placed in room-temperature water. Then, after some time, the temperature should have been gradually increased to provide him with proper first aid…
The city wasn't too far away, but Technoblade was certain that he should start warming the man up right away.
It definitely wasn't the best idea, but it was the fastest way…
Techno carefully placed the human in his mouth and lightly ran his tongue over them. Piglins' body temperature was slightly higher than humans', so this shouldn't have caused any harm.
The poor thing trembled and began to move slightly due to the surrounding warmth, still unconscious. Techno wanted to purr to soothe the human, but that would only disturb them, so he didn't.
For now, he decided to check the readings from the remote thermometers he had installed on the border – everything was working perfectly.
The calm lasted just 15 minutes, as someone decided to wake up.
At that moment, he was taking off his jacket because he was getting hot.
Techno almost swallowed them when he suddenly heard muffled human swearing.
He accidentally pressed them against his palate, and this caused them to start hitting everything around them with their limbs. Any sound of discomfort from the giant was perceived as a victory, and they continued doing what they were doing.
Technoblade wouldn't stand for it and released them, cupping his hands under his mouth.
The frightened man stared at him, quickly looking around to understand where he was. The man said something.
Well, here we go. The language barrier.
Piglins communicated through growls, snorts, or clicks, so most soft sounds were difficult to produce.
If they speak too fast, he won't even be able to understand what they say. Like right now.
Techno's grimace made the man look even more terrified. He wanted to slap himself, as his facial expressions were unlike human ones. He relaxed his snout to look as peaceful as possible, considering he was a huge humanoid boar.
He made an effort to recall all his knowledge of this language.
“You’re safe.”
Yeah, this won't be a long talk.
The man still looked distrustful, “Leave me alone,” he said quietly, “Go away.”
He hissed, clutching his hand, which was clearly hurt by the cold. Even Techno could see the red patches on the white skin.
For some reason, this upset Techno more than it should have. He lifted the human closer to his face, not taking offense at the man's flinching.
Technoblade cupped his hands and began to periodically breathe warm air onto the man, occasionally glancing to see if Dream was approaching.
After a few minutes like that, he felt some light taps on his pinky. He pulled away to look at the man better.
Well, much better than it was at the beginning.
At least he won't die while Techno carries him to the city.
“I will bring you home.”
The man froze, and then suddenly hid his face behind his knees.
Water around the eyes is bad, right?
Whimpers were heard.
Yeah, it's definitely bad!
Techno panicked. What did he do wrong? Or is it still cold?
He carefully touched them with his finger, but the man slapped it away and freaked out, "Don't touch me! You ******!"
The man got to his feet and continued to yell at him. Techno didn't understand most of what they were saying, so he just stared back in silence. Whatever it was, it was obviously bothering them, so he'd let them blow off steam today.
Wait, today?
The yelling stopped, and the man quietly sat down, wiping tears with his hands. It seemed to have taken all the strength out of the poor guy, because he looked exhausted.
Techno decided to check if the communicator was already working, taking it in his free hand.
“I don’t want to go back.”
“I have to bring you home,” said Technoblade, still pronouncing the soft sounds rather roughly.
They looked towards the city, " This is not my home," then back at the alien, “I don't belong there.”
He should have just brought the man back to the city and continued working. It wasn't his business, but still. Maybe he could keep him company for a while. Although Dream wouldn't like that.
“Stay with me. For now.”
At least if they didn't like hanging out with him, he could just bring them back, because there were simply no other options. Certainly not for a human. This further swayed his disapproval of the galactic government.
“Are you taking me with you?”
Technoblade nodded.
He shouldn't be doing this. He doesn't even understand why he's doing this for this stranger. But because of their unfortunate look, he had a feeling…He didn't understand what it was, but for some reason his safe bag started to ache and throb slightly.
“Sorry, but before I agree, can I ask what you're doing here?”
Hmm, this will be difficult to explain.
And he didn't know such words in English, but he had a short but logical answer to the question.
Technoblade pointed to his bag of equipment and said, "Nerd stuff."
The man chuckled but cut it short, clearing his throat instead, “Yeah, sorry. I didn't expect to hear that from you.”
Piglin laughed, though it was kinda just a bunch of short snorts. An alien's appearance doesn't necessarily dictate their profession, though Techno does have a rather menacing appearance. However, anyone familiar with him would readily confirm he's a giant fluffy boy, both literally and figuratively.
It's difficult for humans to pronounce the growling sounds of piglins, so after an awkward exchange of names, they both decided to go with Philza and Techno.
Obviously, the human didn't know what a ‘safe bag’ was, so Techno had to explain that it was safe for them.
“I need to put you in my… storage,” it was the closest word he could remember.
“In your what?” Phil asked, looking the alien up and down with confusion.
He slightly pulled back the hand that held the human, "Here," he said, and ran his palm over the upper part of the belly.
"Is this the stomach?" Philza asked apprehensively.
"No. It's safe and warm," Piglin said quickly, holding Phil up to his face. He added, almost sadly, "It won't be for long."
The man stared at him, but eventually agreed, “I believe you, and…” they placed their hand on his thumb, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
Techno had no idea what possessed him, but he suddenly pulled Philza to the base of his neck and started purring (more like rumbling). A short "Whoa!" snapped him out of it.
He looked at them again, and the man laughed awkwardly.
"Wow, that was loud, I could feel it in my bones."
“Sorry?”
“No, it’s ok, mate! I like it, really.”
At that moment, Technoblade felt so happy! It was strange, but in a good way.
"Let me know when you're ready," Techno instructed, then opened his mouth wide, moving his hands closer.
Phil carefully crawled inside, avoiding tusks the same height as him. He ran his palm over the tongue, and it began to twitch slightly, to cover him with a layer of saliva for a smoother descent.
Everything around stood still, waiting. He lay down with his feet first, because he didn't want to break his neck or hurt his back, no matter how much pressure would be around him in a few seconds.
"I'm ready!" Philza shouted.
Piglin raised his head slightly and swallowed, placing his fingers on his neck to trace the human down.
That feeling again. His storage was clearly pleased to receive something 'valuable'. Maybe it's because Phil has light hair? But he felt a desire to protect this person, and he didn't have a logical explanation for it yet.
Speaking of which, he placed his hand on the spot where Phil was. In response, he felt a gentle pressure, and a muffled voice shouted, "I'm fine, mate!"
Technoblade rumbled with happy purrs.
His communicator made a nasty, high-pitched sound.
Oh, he had missed messages from Dream.
D: I'm done. What about you?
D: Where are you at? Is there a problem?
The device just made that sound again.
D: I'm coming.
As soon as Techno looked up, he saw his partner on the horizon and walked towards him.
“What happened? Is the communicator broken?”
“Nah, everything's fine. I was just checking something here. Let's get back to base.”
“Are you sure?”, Arachnitian asked, looking him up and down.
"Yeah, yeah. And hey, do you have a built-in workshop? I'd like to take a look at the climate control system blueprints, maybe I can make some notes for the future.”
“Wow, you’re really excited about this idea.”
“Yeah, that's for sure. Sudden inspiration, you could say," Techno absently rubbed his belly and headed towards the base with a contented sigh.
Dream didn't say anything and just followed him. He received a message on his communicator.
Arachnitian stopped and stared at Piglin's back. Then he quickly entered the message on his device and continued walking.
Techno glanced over his shoulder, "Is something wrong?"
"Ah, no. Don't worry about it."
"All right."
Dream kept drilling him with his eyes, but Techno seemed not to even feel it.
…
“What are you doing?”, he asked, annoyed but calm.
Techno slowly turned around and saw Dream leaning against the wall.
"How long have you been here?", the piglin asked awkwardly, hiding his hands behind his back.
“Long enough to see you steal my human food supplies,” he sighed and rubbed his temples, leaving his other pair of hands on his waist. “I knew it. Where are they?”
“Um, I don’t know what you’re talking about, man, I-”
“I have a message from the cryo-center, Technoblade. You must return them.”
“But can we keep him for a bit, pretty please?”, he tilted his head to the side innocently.
“What? Why? Besides, we’re not talking about a cat, we’re talking about a whole person!”
"Okay-okay. I get it...", Techno grumbled disapprovingly but then he tilted his head again, "What's a cat?"
Dream groaned and, without a word, went to the Piglin's room. He swiped the keycard, not even ashamed that he'd had access to someone else's room all this time.
He and Technoblade froze for a moment as they looked into the room.
Techno exclaimed in Common Galactic, "No, Phil! You can't draw on this!", he managed to scoop up the human, who didn't look remorseful at all.
“You got the original system blueprints and left them alone with the freezehead?!”
“I only showed him how to use the holographic tablet and virtual tables, I guess he got bored and connected to my workstation...”
Philza didn't understand the language, but he knew what was going on anyway, so he finally spoke up, "That blueprint was a mess, I just upgraded it."
Dream asked in English, "What? What do you mean by-". He looked over at the table, then poked Techno in the side with his elbow.
Techno placed Philza back on the table and began reviewing the edits. While Dream was sending the improved blueprint into the simulation - all the indicators were close to 100% stable.
"I copied it before I made my own version, there was no call for all that shouting, you loud fucks," the human complained, rubbing his ears.
Both aliens looked at him as if he were the strangest one in the room.
“What?”
"Who the hell are you?", Dream asked. "This is too perfect for a person from the beginning of this millennium."
Philza snorted, "First of all, fuck you," he gave Arachnitian the middle finger, then nodded towards his work, "Secondly, I just made edits on an already finished blueprint. If I got used to these new tools, it could be even better. But I don't know this language, and honestly I'm not into the nerdy part."
"Wait, you said this could be done even better?!" Dream burst out, not seeing Philza flinch, but Techno did and picked him up.
"I didn't get it all, but don't yell at him," Technoblade warned seriously.
Arachnitian gave them both a crooked smile, "You two really piss me off, but damn." He stared straight at the man, drilling him with his gaze, "Seriously, who are you, Philip Rosales?"
Technoblade felt Philza flinch and wanted to scold Dream, "Hey! Knock it off! You're only making things w-", he felt a tapping on his finger. Phil gestured to be put back down.
Dream finally pulled back, realizing he'd crossed the line. He and Techno sat down at the table. Philza, meanwhile, sat down on a little earring case, put his hands together, and looked over at Dream.
"Before everyone found out Earth was dying, I was one of the most famous architects of the last generation. And of course, you can't be good at it without understanding related fields like building and engineering."
Dream quickly translated his words into Common Galactic for Technoblade.
Phil continued, "But a wealth didn't help me with my... problem." The Arachnitian gave a short nod, as his guy at the cryo-center had leaked him information about this man. He knew about Kristin.
"I changed my name and surname when we were preparing to leave our planet. There was such a commotion that no one even noticed," he felt tears welling up in his eyes, so he lowered his head.
"And then I woke up today to find out that she... I feel- It seems," his voice cracked, and he slowly raised his gaze to the aliens, confessing with tears streaming down his face, "that Philza Minecraft died 300 years ago."
…
That conversation left Philza so shaken that Technoblade had to calm him for a long time. The man even asked to be hidden in the storage because the reality of what had happened had completely thrown him off.
Phil didn't know what he was thinking when he escaped from the cryo-center. Perhaps to see his beautiful wife's face one last time, to touch her, to gently stroke her head, to say that everything was alright... to say sorry. Even he didn't know what he wanted at that moment. He just felt as if he had lost a part of his soul.
However, despite the hardship, he will learn to move forward.
In this world that is completely alien to him. He will have two stubborn but reliable friends to help him through.
Perhaps thanks to them, he'll be able to turn this universe upside down, even if he's just doing what he likes.
And who knows, maybe someday there will be a human who finds a cure for death or will be able to bring people back to life. It sounds very utopian, but if they manage to break free from Moon-2 and continue to develop, then it's not such an absurd idea, is it? Though this clearly won't happen in Philza's lifetime.
However, if he can make his dream a reality even a fraction of a second sooner, he will spare no effort to achieve it.
Although the two aliens won’t let him overwork, that’s for sure.
…
Logbook «Brian». Record from November 4, 2328 [Earth calendar]:
Phil sent instructions for Sector 103-f to the main screen via his tablet. He still had to wear a mask due to the unbreathable air. But the crew was working fast, so they'll be able to breathe easy in just two weeks. He was so glad Technoblade was the one who understood all that nerdy stuff.
Anyway, where are the guys?
Someone poked him from behind, and he yelped.
"Are you half-asleep, freezehead?" Dream chuckled. "You didn't even notice me come in."
“Unlike Techno, you have a light step,” he replied in Common Galactic.
"Heh?", Piglin was on the other side, startling the man once more.
"Do you wanna give me a heart attack?" Phil asked, clutching his chest. He shot a sharp glance at the Arachnitian, "And stop calling me that, it's been three years."
Dream feigned thought, "No." He and Philza exchanged two middle fingers, and with a quick goodbye, he left them with Technoblade.
They went to the empty cafeteria, where they could breathe freely without a mask.
"Don’t you know what rest is, Philza?" Techno asked, and then took a sip of his coffee.
“I just want to finish this project early so we don’t waste time here on this-”
Piglin interrupted him with a loud click, 'Wrong answer.'"
Phil snorted, "Ready to volunteer your services, are you?"
“If you keep calling it that, I'll drop you in my coffee.”
"Maybe that's what I want," the human replied with a smirk.
"I don't think we should be doing something like this in your current state," Techno noted, casting a dubious glance at him.
"Mate, I'm not out of steam yet."
"Oh, I have no doubt about that, dude." Piglin extended a hand for Philza to climb on, "How about a nap for a couple of hours?"
Philza bit his lip. He actually wanted to do something else for the current project, so he wasn't sure if he should-
Oh, what the hell.
He laughed, "Weren't you supposed to be busy as well?"
Technoblade snorted, "That can wait. I really wanted to check out that Earth book you told me about."
Phil smiled, "I think you'll like the strategy book." He glanced around to make sure no one was nearby. He didn't want any extra questions; it was enough that Dream knew.
"Ok, enjoy your reading, mate. And this time, don't forget to wake me up."
"No promises," Techno said, bringing his palm closer to his face, "Considering I'll be doing two of my favorite things at once."
"Just admit you're greedy," Phil chuckled, crawling inside.
Smells like coffee.
Technoblade will never get tired of this feeling. Is it weird to taste happiness? Probably yes, but he doesn't care. He's happy that Philza came into his life.
Gulp. Purring.
"Maybe," he said contentedly, rubbing the spot where the dearest person in his life lay curled like a sleepy ball.
…
That's it! The end!
Due to the fact that humans lived in a colony status, they were not allowed to develop in other fields besides the GG. However, thanks to the explosive incident involving Philza, everything changed. The GG had to publicly admit that humans hold untapped potential and that it was irresponsible to waste the opportunity to nurture valuable individuals for the entire galactic community.
Historically, in Piglin culture, partners would give each other small gifts, which they kept in safe bags. Techno almost never used a ‘storage’, because he is, ahem, a nerd. But that wasn't the only reason Philza caught Techno's attention. Firstly, he was curious, and he experienced that explosive personality firsthand. And he wasn't awkward about it! Which is rare for him, even though Phil sometimes made him nervous.
I absolutely did not want to write s*icidal thoughts for Philza in this oneshot. I decided to stick with the idea that upon hearing the news, he felt as though he had died on the same day as his wife. Yeah, he messed up by running, but it was a mix of several factors. In the end, it was easier for him to adapt thanks to Technoblade than to try and build a life in the colony with humans. And he doesn't regret it.
Dream was their social lightning rod in the team, as he took on all communication with investors, management, and so on. He and Phil often argue, while Techno tries to calm them down. Dream tried to make a joke at Philza's expense, saying that Techno shouldn't have picked up that wild opossum. The man simply ridiculed him for knowing such ancient memes from the Earth Age. But for real, they consider themselves friends who constantly annoy each other.
I can't say that I've written everything I wanted to, but I didn't want to make chapters for this story... I wanted to write some more hurt/comfort for this au, but there's already a lot of words here.
If someone sends me questions about any of my aus, I'll definitely answer them.
Okay, I didn't think I'd write about vore often, but the post with the previous au got a lot of activity, so yeah. I'm going to post a new short vore story with emduo today or tomorrow :D
I wrote the story during the pre-New Year study session, so all I have to do is translate it into English and it's done!
This is going to be a space au about human!philza and giant alien!technoblade.
Humanity fucked up again and, with the help of aliens, fled to another part of the universe to save their species. I love writing sad shit, so Philza has a backstory here, and I decided to briefly describe it in this mini-prologue so that it doesn't get too much attention in the finished story.
I just remembered this au while writing a continuation for another one, lol :]
TW: wife's death, swearing.
Word count: ~650
The Prologue
The heavy cryo-capsule door opened with a metallic heavy thud, letting cold air out.
“How are you feeling, sir?”
The blond man groaned, “Like I woke up after a farewell student party.” He tried to get to his feet, but a worker in a white coat carefully lowered him back.
"Don't push yourself, Mr. Rosales, it's too early to walk. We need to run a bunch of tests and quarantine you."
"Yeah, yeah. I remember the explanation. You don’t want to get a pandemic because of my ancient cold.”, he said with neglect, looking around the room.
“You could say that, yes.” The young man looked around, checking to see if any of his colleagues were coming.
He ignored the man’s comment about how even after 300 years, people still made ugly wall calendars.
“It's actually my first day, and I was so worried- I mean, it's a great honor for me to personally meet someone from the past. You are the representative of our great ancestors who decided to save humanity and agreed to-”
“I don't give a fuck about humanity, man.”, he interrupted him, “I agreed to come here so that in the future people would find a cure for my wife's illness. By the way, where is she?”
“Oh, r-right! Here.”, he handed him the certificate of death.
“Wha-”, Phil snatched the paper from his hands and slowly read every line, his eyes wide open.
“My condolences, she passed away before the beginning of procedure and you’ve already been put into cryo-sleep. It was decided to keep her body in a refrigerated chamber in a nearby town, but...I’m really sorry, but you can't go there right now.”
He watched as the man's eyes lost their shine, and he had an empty, cold gaze on the unfortunate piece of paper, which was already slightly wrinkled.
His expressionless face lifted to look at the worker in front of him.
“Before you start your work, may I ask something?”
…
“Hey! Newbie! Where's your patient?”
“Oh, he went to the bathroom.”
The older colleague looked at him as if he had grown a second head, he said, “There's no one there.”
“No- he-”, the guy looked inside the other room, “Where did he go?”
“You’re a moron! Patients don’t eat or drink before cryo-sleep!”
“I know that! I thought he needed some privacy time because of the news about his-”
“You told him?!”
“What was I supposed to do? Lie to him?”, the guy began to look around nervously for help, but there was no one in the room but the two of them.
“At the very least, make sure he doesn’t escape!” the man shouted over his shoulder, dialing the security number on his tablet-like device, “Where the hell did he go anyway?
“Well, he was asking about the refrigeration chambers…” the guy began, already seeing his senior colleague looking at him in disbelief.
"Don't tell me he was planning on getting there on his own feet. He'll die before he reaches the next city’s border. We need to report this immediately! How did he even get out of here?!”
As the man was cursing, the guy took out his communicator and quickly sent a message to someone.
He cursed, “Damn it!”
“What is it?”
“Some scientist is due to arrive today to set up climate control, our keeper is unavailable. These things don't work in the dead zone.”
“Did you at least warn him that going there would be a dangerous idea?”
The guy was looking anywhere but at the angry face in front of him.
“Well, I said it's very cold there.”
The man exhaled briefly but quickly, as if the air had been knocked out of his lungs. He put his thumb and index finger together to emphasize the importance of his words, “Deadly. Cold. That’s what you should have told him.”
How to hold your borrower friend properly? (g/t meme)
I'm writing a continuation for Fake god au (including Phil's backstory). So, I decided to draw this g/t meme during my break :D
I'm not an artist, so this is the best I could draw using references.
[These are old character designs, different from the text version. In my defense, Phil originally just had long black nails. I'll show you my bad doodle to prove it… I drew this five months ago.]
Okay okay okay! This is gonna be my first ever multi chapter story so fingers crossed I actually keep up with this but I really hope you guys love it as much as I do! Thank you to @a-xyz-s for proof reading <3
Chapter 1: Alone
ch 2 , ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8
cw: abandonment (its touched on but nothing major I think), general fear, panic and anxiety (ya know standard terrified borrower), fear of death,
word count: 2608
Disclaimer! This story is based on the characters of the Dream SMP and not the real life content creators. Anything that occurs in this story is purely fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you.
Happy 3rd anniversary to Jornos!!!! Three years ago today I posted the first chapter of my story and honestly I can’t believe how far I’ve come since then.
8 chapters posted and counting is crazy to me. I never thought I’d still be writing this 3 years on but I love that I keep having more ideas and thank you to everyone who has been apart of this journey to now🥰
Congratulations on your 3rd anniversary! (sbi g/t, mcyt g/t)
Big shouts for this author!
If you haven't read this fic yet, then you're really lucky, because you can read the already written 8 chapters about borrower sizeshifter!tommy and his life within the walls of the Craft family house! Unless, of course, his new ability forces him to get to know his giant unaware housemates better :D
If you're a fan of 'found family', you'll definitely enjoy it :]
This is an introductory excerpt of text that is not canonical, but it shows the alternative actions between spirit!philza and human!techno from this au.
…
Brief mythological references: In Slavic paganism, they worshipped not only pagan gods, but also spirits. Even after the adoption of Christianity, paganism transformed and integrated pagan elements into the new religion. As a result, people were able to preserve some of their pagan traditions. There was also a concept of ancestor worship. There are several theories about the origin of the domovoi. One theory suggests that it is a deceased ancestor or the founder of a family. According to folklore, this spirit protected and cared for the house, but it could also cause harm if its rules were not followed.
Just in case. The word Father is used here as a respectful address to the owner/protector/patron of the house. The characters are not distant relatives. (and not dadza thing)
Summary: At the border between sleep and wakefulness, spirit Philza gives Techno a disturbing warning. Technoblade wakes up from a nightmare and realizes that this can't go on. He's trying to negotiate and it's not as bad as it could be :]
…
Techno didn't sleep well, and his sleep was shallow.
The project he was working on with his classmates was behind schedule, and they needed to work harder. He was obviously not getting enough sleep, and spending valuable time trying to find a comfortable sleeping position wasn't helping the situation.
Something was wrong today. Including the suspicious silence in the house.
It was so hot and stuffy. He should have opened the window before going to sleep, but he was too lazy to get up.
It felt like half the night had passed, and he still hadn't managed to fall asleep deeply, at least not that he could remember.
He turned on his side and slightly opened his eyes to check the time.
His attention was drawn to the window that he had definitely closed with curtains. But now they were hanging open.
Outside the window, there was a black silhouette that looked like a man with small, bright blue dots where the eyes should be.
Techno slowly closed his eyes without showing that he had noticed it.
He turned over on his back and tried to fall asleep.
Suddenly, something large pressed against his chest.
Someone's hands slowly wrapped around his neck.
Techno didn't open his eyes. He just couldn't.
He tried to lift his arms or legs, but they felt like they were chained to his bed. His mouth wouldn't open to scream either.
As he struggled with his inner panic, he suddenly felt someone's hair on his face. It was like someone was looming over him.
But he didn't feel any hint of breath. Techno didn't seem to be breathing either.
After a few suffocating seconds that seemed like an eternity, he heard a calm, authoritative yet menacing male voice.
Get out
Technoblade jumped up and sat on the bed. His heart was racing and his breathing was short. He grabbed a pillow and hugged it, trying to calm himself.
After a while, he heard a barking sound and it caught his attention.
Floof was trying to get on the bed, even though he wasn't supposed to. But this time, Technoblade made an exception. He picked up the dog and placed it on his lap.
The puppy started licking his face, and the guy grimaced and straightened up so the dog couldn't reach him. Although he appreciated that Floof might be trying to cheer him up.
Or maybe he was just hungry.
Techno was already dirty from the sweat that was still dripping off him. His hands were still shaking a bit, so he took a few deep breaths and exhaled. He got up from the bed and put Floof on the floor.
Carefully, fearing that at any moment an object might be thrown at him, he entered the kitchen. There was nothing unusual in the room, everything looked normal. His mouth was dry.
He sat down at the table in silence and just held a mug of water in his hands for a while.
Finally, he said, “I think you’re really mad at me this time.”
Techno was waiting for a reaction, but it was even more frightening when nothing happened.
Maybe it wasn’t the best time to joke about this, so…
“Listen, dude- Father… I didn’t mean to offend you. I really didn’t.”
On the other side of the room. A tiny man, no bigger than a palm, was sitting on top of the blender. As soon as the guy addressed him with respect, he turned his head in the human's direction.
Although Techno couldn't see or hear him, Philza transformed into a human-sized form and stood on the other side of the table. He looked directly at the guy and appeared smug.
“I’m willing to follow your rules, but with one condition.” The last part was said much more quietly, but domovoi still heard it.
Philza raised an eyebrow and leaned against the countertop behind.
Techno took the silence in the room as a sign that he could continue, “I don’t want to be the only one trying to establish a good relationship between us.”
Phil rolled his eyes with a groan, but then he slammed his hand on the lower cabinet. A bag of dog food that had been lying on the countertop fell on its side. Without dropping a single piece, Floof's bowl was filled.
Techno involuntarily twitched at the moment, as it was the first active movement of the spirit this morning, aside from the nightmare. However, when he realized what had happened, a modest smile appeared on his face. "Oh! Thanks, I almost forgot about it.”
Philza only snorted in annoyance. He transformed back into his small form and took a seat on Techno’s shoulder, as if it were his personal seat on the plane.
Human paused for a moment, unsure how to express his thought.
He looked in the direction where the domovoi had made its last noise and asked, “Can I address you differently? Father sounds pretty awkward to say out loud in the 21st century."
Nothing happened and Techno counted that as a yes.
“What’s your name? And before you think of how to tell me,” the guy pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil, “Here, use this. I know how you don’t like technology, but I don’t want to buy a new phone for the second time this week.”
The pencil shot up in the air and, in a sloppy handwriting, wrote 'Can't remember'. It fell with a thud, and Techno picked up the paper.
For a second, he found it amusing that the domovoi had given him a nightmare to threaten him, but now it was using writing.
“Maybe I can give you a name?” As soon as the question slipped from his lips, water from the mug splashed into his face.
Techno kept his eyes closed as the water ran down his face.
He nodded repeatedly, “Yep. That’s what I thought.”
…
That's it! I hope you enjoyed it and got interested :D
If I see any activity, this story will definitely be published.
Why is this text specifically about sleep paralysis? This condition may be accompanied by sensations of suffocation, pressure on the chest, hallucinations, fear, also you cannot move. Because human body has a protective mechanism that prevents you from moving too much during sleep. Simply put, during sleep paralysis your mind is awake, but your body is not yet.
In old days, people could not explain the cause of this condition scientifically. So Slavs believed back then that it was the work of the domovoi (dom means house).
The last part of the post will be about world building, so if you want to read it, you're welcomed.
Anyway, thank you for taking the time to read this!
…
[Domovoi au world building]
This is all fiction, so I don't have to be historically or religiously accurate. I'm building this world as I see fit.
…
(Sometimes I'll use he/his pron, 'cause it's usually male.)
What is a domovoi? In my au this household spirit is a mix of an imp and a sinner.
What do I mean? A sinner dies and becomes a spirit that protects and takes care of the house where he lived during his lifetime to redeem his sins. This man forgets his human name, because he's essentially an unclean spirit, although not a demon. So, no clergymen can exorcise a domovoi from a house. BUT. Consecrated objects, holy water, and prayers irritate this spirit. This may cause more aggressive behavior.
Why are these things unsuitable for exorcism? In this au, paganism is considered one of the oldest religions, so those that emerged after it are not effective against pagan spirits. However, pagan shamans and witches, with their true spreading by word of mouth spells and incantations, are capable of attempting to confront spirits like domovoi.
How would I describe the behavior of such a spirit? Probably a mix of brownie (Northwest Europe) and a poltergeist, but with more violence. Humans can't see a domovoi unless he wants them to. Usually he doesn't want to. But he can appear in dreams. You'd better not anger him, considering the fact that this spirit can easily pick up objects and throw them around. He can touch you, which means he can also hit you. But you can't touch or hit him back.
So. You can't see or hear him, you can't touch him, and if he attacks you, there's nothing you can do about it... (except try to run away from house) An ordinary person might try to confront him in certain situations, but this is more likely to anger the spirit than provide a long-term solution :/
Probably the only detail that I changed in the concept of a domovoi is his height. I made him a sizeshifter so that he has 2 forms, one of human height, and the other is like a borrower size. In different sources, the height of this spirit varies from 20 to 90 cm. So the tallest one is 2'9'' ft. (35 inch/90 cm), and I usually write 6 inch/15 cm tall for borrowers.
…
Yk the feeling when you've written your favorite parts of the fic, but you still need to write 1-2 more chapters for a logical storytelling? That's literally me right now. But I want to present the story in chronological order, so yeah…
The main story is in the process of being written, and I've already thought about a lot of things. I'll tell you that Philza will be much more harmful in different ways (you may have noticed this from Techno's reaction.). The behavior in the excerpt was an ‘easy’ mode, believe me.
I'll try not to disappear for months, but I still have a lot of work to do in IRL. I'll try to gradually return to publishing my au.
TW: spectrophobia (like an irrational fear of something mystical), swearing, sanity doubt, self-deprecating thoughts (shame of being scared) and anxiety.
Summary: Philza starts noticing strange things in the house he recently moved into. Thanks to the superstitions he learned as a kid, he decides there is a spirit in his house. But it's actually just the unwary borrower named Techno.
Notes: Fun fact, but I didn't want to call this one phasmophobia au, firstly because of the actual game. Secondly, I already have an au in my drafts where Philza is a ghost hunter and Techno is a ghost (literally my first fanfic, which I wrote in 2022, lmao).
…
Philza put his full weight on the door, which didn't open. Something fell with a thud, and the door only opened slightly, creating a gap that allowed him to peek inside. Someone had blocked the door with large boxes, and one of them was already on the floor, scattering old junk across the dusty floor.
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!
The next post on another new au will be coming soon, so stay tuned.
Have a good day/night! And don't forget to drink some water :]
New AUs (human!philza + borrower!tehcnoblade and human!technoblade + sizeshifter!philza)
Hello everyone!
Now pls, hear me out :D
I love happy endings, but! I wanted to try writing something dark and/or angst. And I hope I succeeded.
So :]
The first au will be oneshot.
Imagine the concept of a borrower living in your house, but you think it's an evil household spirit (in a pagan sense). So Phil will have time to worry before the truth is revealed.
The second au has something in common with the first au. But it'll be more complicated, and it probably won't be a oneshot.
It'll be based on East Slavic mythology, where Philza is a sizeshifter spirit that protects the house (which Techno moved to). He's invisible to humans, and I'm not sure if this is a good or bad thing for Techno. In any case, it's scary.
I'll publish a excerpt about this au, which may not be canon, but it'll show how the au will work.
If someone likes the vibe, I'll just develop this story from the beginning. (I've already started, but if I publish this, I need to make some adjustments)
So it'll look like a 'situation' that could happen in this au.
Anyway, I'll publish this in the near days, hopefully tomorrow or the day after.
Thank you for your attention, and be nice :D
Have a good day/night guys!
