Chapter 28

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136. (inspired by Mikiri_M)

Technoblade was. . . well not scared, exactly. Technoblade never got scared - not for himself, at least. But he was feeling a certain amount of anxiety. Why?

Because there was something under his floorboards.

Now normally, Technoblade would have no problem dealing with a pest or two. For Prime's sake, he lived in a world with mobs. If he could stab his way through a horde of zombies, he could handle a couple mice.

Problem was, though, that the thing under his floorboards wasn't a mouse. He'd checked, and promptly slammed the blocks back into place with a loud "NOPE" when the. . . creature, which resembled a raccoon if raccoons were the size of grown men, lunged at him. Chat had laughed at him for twenty minutes straight afterward, but it was a small price to pay to avoid a fight with the mutated trash panda.

. . . Unfortunately, said mutated trash panda had somehow broken out of his basement, climbed up the ladder, and was now sitting in his living room with half of his gapple stash in its greasy paws. Technoblade stared at it. It took a bite of a gapple and stared back.

"Why," Technoblade said flatly.

The menace chittered at him. Two of the gapples balanced precariously on top the pile in its arms wobbled, fell to the floor, and rolled away. Chat began cackling in the back of his skull.

Technoblade sighed. "Get out of my house," he ordered. The raccoon took another bite out of its gapple and did not move. Technoblade drew his sword.

The creature instantly melted into a ball of fluff and pity. Its beady eyes blinked up at him, folded in a pleading expression.

Technoblade was not affected. He wasn't. It wasn't cute. It was just. . . attacking this thing would feel like kicking a puppy. And while Technoblade might joke about murdering orphans, he wasn't a puppy-kicker.

He lowered his sword. The menace instantly sprang back up, chittered happily, and tossed a golden apple at Technoblade before booking it out of the house - breaking his front doors in the process. Technoblade stared at the shattered wood in dismay, then down at the gapple he'd caught on reflex.

It was drenched in some unidentifiable substance - either water or raccoon drool. Technoblade dropped it like a hot potato and spun on his heel, hurrying towards the cabinet where he kept his bleach.

Fixing the door could wait. He needed to clean his hand first.

~~~

Technoblade opened the door, then promptly slammed it shut when a giant, furry face beamed down at him. "No," he said.

A whine sounded from outside. Emotional support raccoon, Chat suggested. Emotional support mutated trash panda.

"No," he said louder.

A low huff. Something poked at the door hard enough to make it tremble.

"Leave," he ordered.

A pause. Snow crunched under a heavy weight outside, and then the raccoon's furry face appeared in his window. It blinked innocently at him.

Technoblade narrowed his eyes. "Go away. Shoo. I don't have food for you."

The raccoon tilted its head, and then proceeded to pull those puppy eyes on him. Technoblade wasn't going to fall for that trick again.

"No," he snapped. "Leave me alone."

The raccoon's ears drooped. It looked, somehow, impossibly sadder. Technoblade wavered, then steeled himself. He wasn't going to give in. He was a warrior, a giant raccoon was not going to defeat him in a battle of wills--

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