Chapter Text
“Don't. You. Dare.”
Tommy had turned out to be quite the cunning little rascal. In the time since The Pillow Incident™ he had gotten into a few pickles and had gotten Wilbur, Techno and Phil into several more.
There was the time he had jumped through the door while Phil was leaving to go shopping, ran down the apartment’s hallway, hopped into the elevator and rode it to every single floor, knocking on all the doors and then hiding behind potted plants while giggling to himself. A concierge had found him in the lobby, covered with dirt, with a single leaf of a fake plant stuck in his mess of curls. How that got there no one will ever know.
After that they made sure to never let Tommy near the door if they weren’t taking him somewhere, and he got into less trouble in the apartment. Or well, not less, but to a lesser degree.
Now Tommy’s tail swishes mischievously, hand inching closer to the glass of water beside him. The kid is sprawled out on his belly on the counter, legs up and swinging back and forth in the air.
“Tommy I mean it, I really do, young man,” Wilbur warns, voice a low growl, arms crossed over his chest and giving Tommy The Look™.
The kitten hisses and winds back his hand before swatting the glass with it, full force. Phil sighs, flicking his fingers and catching the glass mid air with his levitation powers. All of the water flows back into the cup as it’s placed back on the counter with a subtle whoosh.
Tommy's eyes twinkle when he watches the magic. It always amazes him, when any of them use their powers, which makes sense since his won’t manifest for another couple years. Still, the degree to which he is enamored with their abilities is absolutely adorable.
“Stop it you two,” Phil scolds, turning to Wilbur who is lounging lazily on the sofa, as weirdly sprawled out as the kid. “Wilbur, you need to get ready. And Tommy,” he turns his gaze to the cat hybrid who stares up at him with big, watery eyes. Brat. Phil just chuckles, “okay, okay. I’m not mad.”
He scoops the baby up from under his belly, earning a small yelp from Tommy. Phil sets the kitten down on the couch and urges Wilbur off of it.
“Are you sure Theseus will be alright by himself here?” Techno ladd asks, stepping into the living room as he slips on his armored cuffs, already half suited.
The man had taken to calling Tommy Theseus after the impressive(ly stressful) event in which he had somehow managed to get all the way to the roof from their penthouse apartment and then accidentally fell off. Luckily, someone watching the sunset from the apartment below theirs was able to catch the kitten and bring him back up.
Tommy spent the next week in the nest surrounded by all three of them. He’d tried to leave multiple times to no avail, and had eventually resigned himself to the soft crooning and whispered promises that he was theirs, that they would protect him.
“He will be fine Tech,” Wilbur groans. This is about the twelfth time they’ve had this exact conversation. “We’ll lock all the doors and windows out of the apartment so he can’t even leave. All the stuff he could hurt himself with is already put away and behind child locks. There’s literally no way this could go wrong.”
“Jinxed,” Techno snorts, but the man pays him no mind.
Wilbur finishes pulling on his suit and ties the signature blindfold around his eyes, scooping Tommy up and tickling him viciously. The kid giggles, his hands desperately shoving at Wilbur’s face to no avail.
“Alright right you two,” Phil chuckles, taking Tommy from Wilbur and cradling him a moment before setting him back down on the couch. He ruffles Wilbur’s hair as he passes by, making his son snort. Then Phil turns to Technoblade and Wilbur, both dressed in their suits and armored with a sword and two daggers respectively.
“Okay,” he grins a sadistic grin, “I think we’re ready to go boys.”
ᓚᘏᗢ
Technoblade grunts, throwing an arm up to block a blow from Dream, swinging his other out and smiling as his sword hits its mark. Dream staggers and winces trying to cover his cut with the hand he’s not using in battle. It’s a shallow cut, one that won’t kill him, that’s for sure, but one that will slow him down. After-all, that’s the only thing Techno needs.
In the end it’s quick and rather painless. Techno swivels his sword with grace, flipping it upside down and bringing the hilt down on Dream’s head harshly. He groans and crumples to the ground. With one more kick to the head Techno is fairly sure he’s passed out.
He steals a glance to the side while the emerald clad hero steadies himself. Phil and Wilbur are back to back, fighting off Mercenary and 404 respectively. The first pair are more or less evenly matched, with Phil still hitting most of the blows, but all in all it’s not a bad fight.
Wilbur and 404 are much different.
While 404 is certainly not someone to be messed with, his thrashing vines are no match for Wilbur’s pair of emerald encrusted daggers. The boy has always had an affinity for daggers.
Each new vines or root that sprouts from the twin lotuses blooming on his hands is slashed to bits within seconds, leaving the two at an impasse. For now, it’s even, but Wilbur isn’t even using his powers yet. He can’t, not with the earbuds crunched tightly into 404’s head.
That seems like something Wilbur is intent on changing.
In a flash, the man lets loose all his unbridled fury on the unsuspecting hero, slicing, dicing, and reducing his reaching vines to mere wilted plants. Before 404 has the chance to grow new vegetation, Wilbur is slamming him up against the brick walls of the alley and ripping out his earplugs. He opens his mouth, ready to use his voice to command the hero to do whatever he pleases but–
All that comes out is a soft, pitiful meow.