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2021-03-11
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2021-03-20
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How to Train Your Chat

Summary:

“Technosoft, Technosoft, Technosoft…”

 

 

Techno groaned. “For the last time, Chat,” he said, “I am not—for the love of anarchy, don’t you dare go outside with four heavily armed men out there.”

The child trying to open the window and sneak out did not look remotely guilty for putting their life at risk. “Technosoft.”

Techno's voices are really just an army of orphans, Techno is a tired Dad, and Tommy is accused of being a literal raccoon.

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Sometimes, Techno wished he had thousands of voices in his head.

Because anything, anything would be better than this.

Because at least a hundred children were huddled in his cabin. Techno wasn’t even sure how all of them had managed to fit, but he knew it couldn’t possibly be sanitary.

“Get out of the pantry!” Techno barked at a few that were raiding his cabinets, searching for food.

The children only cackled.

“Hey, Techno,” one of the children said, tugging at his cape, “Techno, Techno, Techno.”

“What,” he said, mimicking the child’s voice.

The child giggled. “Can I braid your hair?”

Techno sighed. “No.”

Another nearby child perked up at the first child’s question. “Braiding? Are we braiding hair?”

Techno massaged his forehead. “No, nobody is braiding anybody’s hair,” he said sternly.

A third child grinned impishly. “Technobraid?”

“No.”

The three children started chanting in unison. “Technobraid, Technobraid…”

Techno’s eyes widened in fear as all of the children joined in, over a hundred small, evil voices chanting, “Technobraid, Technobraid—”

“If you guys don’t stop right this instant,” Techno said, pointing his finger at them threateningly, “I will cut my hair, and the braid will be no more.”

This did not give the children Techno’s desired effect, which as, obviously, having them shut up. As a matter of fact, it only made the chaos worse.

Some of the children moaned, begging him not to do such a “crime.” Another chunk of children laughed and dared him to do it, now chanting “cut it off, cut it off.” And some of them were suggesting that Techno dye his hair a different color completely.

Techno did not need this headache.

“I will send you all out into the snow,” Techno said threateningly.

Only some of them went quiet. “Aw, you like us,” one of the kids said, now literally climbing Techno like he was some play-set.

“Yeah!” another child piped up, “You wouldn’t get rid of us!”

“We’re your emotional support chat!”

“Emotional support chat, emotional support chat…”

“The only thing you’re supporting,” Techno said, wrestling the children off of him, “Is my headache.”

“Um… Mr. Blade?” one of the children said, his face pressed up against the window of Techno’s house, “There are people coming.”

Techno swore. In the chaos, he had completely forgotten Phil’s warning.

“All of you need to stay inside,” Techno commanded, “And if I find one thing out of place when I get back, then all of you are sleeping in the snow.”

“You said you’d do that when you told us not to climb the furniture,” one child said, doing a cartwheel on the top of the sofa, “And I’m still here.”

“Not to mention you swore to kill all orphans,” mentioned a child making snow angels in the rug.

Honestly, Techno had forgotten that the Chat, the name they had given themselves, was a group of orphans.

“Technosoft,” said a child dangling from the rafters.

“I am not soft. Get down from there,” Techno snapped.

“Technosoft,” the kid said again, grinning evilly.

“Ooooo,” said a kid that was standing on another kid, “Techno’s soft.”

“Technosoft, Technosoft, Technosoft…”

Techno groaned. “For the last time, Chat,” he said, “I am not—for the love of anarchy, don’t you dare go outside with four heavily armed men out there.”

The child trying to open the window and sneak out did not look remotely guilty for putting their life at risk. “Technosoft.”

It took everything within Techno’s power not to yank his own braid out in frustration.

“Just, shut up,” Techno said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I need to go deal with some idiots. I’ll get Ghostbur to babysit you or something.”

“Babysit?” the children demanded.

“We don’t need a babysitter.” “We make enemies tremble in our paths.” “We are literally besting you.” “Our power is unstoppable.”

Techno chose not to make a comment, instead opening the door into the cold, ready to face the L’manbergians who dared try to interrupt his not-so-peaceful-retirement.

 

Listen, Tommy had planned on not bothering Technoblade too much. He was fortunate enough to break into his older brother’s house while he didn’t happen to be home, so Tommy had had plenty of time to loot the place and dig a small place underground like a raccoon.

Tommy’s plan went awry as soon as the stone above him trembled like hundreds of men were storming the relatively small cottage.

Tommy’s mind raced a mile-per-minute. Dream was looking for him, Dream sent a search party, Techno’s gathering an army, Dream was here—

Tommy’s thoughts were interrupted by a strange chanting that he could overhear even from underground.

“Technobraid, Technobraid…”

Who on earth was chanting Technobraid? Why did it sound like an army of literal children?

The chanting only got more amusing from there.

“Emotional Support Chat, Emotional Support Chat…” and “Technosoft, Technosoft, Technosoft…” made Tommy have to hold back hysterical laughter that Techno probably wouldn’t’ be able to hear over that chaos, but Tommy would prefer not to take any risks.

Honestly, it almost sounded like Techno had made a cult or something like that.

Still… these children would make Tommy’s continued plan of stealing from Technoblade a little tricky, since they would be sure to catch him the moment Tommy attempted to go upstairs.

That problem was remedied almost instantly as Tommy let out a high-pitched shriek as the cobblestone block got mined away.

“Oops!” a child exclaimed.

“Woah, you found a secret tunnel!” another small voice said.

“SECRET TUNNEL!” One voice began singing.

“SECRET TUNNEL!” The rest of the children joined in, singing wildly out of tune, “IN THE MOUNTAIN, SECRET SECRET SECRET SECRET TUNNEL!”

As children began pouring into Tommy’s small underground room, Tommy couldn’t decide if he wanted to laugh, have a panic attack, or try to wake himself up from whatever strange dream this was.

One of the children shrieked when they saw Tommy. “There’s a person!”

“No, it’s a raccoon!” another argued.

What.

A different child ran up to Tommy patting his hair. Tommy flinched.

“Yes, he is like a scared raccoon,” the child observed.

“I’m not a raccoon!” Tommy squawked indignantly, “I’m TommyInnit, and you’d better remember it!”

One of the children cackled. “RaccoonInnit.”

Oh no.

“RaccoonInnit, RaccoonInnit…” Became the new weird chant of the party.

More children were trying to climb on him, and Tommy panickily shook them off. “No, no, don’t touch me.” His voice was embarrassingly high-pitched and panicked, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

To Tommy’s surprise, the children actually got off of him.

“Look!” Another kid exclaimed, rifling through one of Tommy’s chests. “He’s got gapples!”

All of the children gasped in unison. Then they dashed to the chest like it was the only water source in a desert.

“Gimme!” “I want Gapples!” “Fool, they’re mine now, muahahaha!”

Tommy didn’t even want to fight for the Gapples with these literal chaos demons. Instead, he looked up the ladder hole, trying to ascertain how many children were in the actual cabin.

As it turned out, a whole freaking lot.

“You are very thin,” one child pointed out all of a sudden, causing Tommy to jump out of his skin.

“Yeah!” another child added, “You need food.”

“Growing children like you need nourishment.”

Tommy gaped at the kids nearly two feet shorter than him. “You do realize that I’m older than you, right?”

The children grinned. “Prove it.”

And that was how Tommy was dragged up to the kitchen and fed soup by a ton of chaos toddlers that were somehow trusted with the stove.

 

“Tommy, what are you doing in my house?”

“Techno!” the chat all shouted in unison.

“We found a raccoon!” “His name is Tommy?” “He didn’t eat enough, so we fed him!” “The house almost burnt down!” “Tommy doesn’t like being touched.” “We can climb you instead!”

Techno sighed as five children started climbing up him at once.

“I was kidnapped,” Tommy said, “I was minding my own business in my house, and I was dragged up here by your children.”

Techno made a strangled noise. “They are not my children.”

“Technodad?” a child doing a handstand on the coffee table whispered.

“Technodad,” Tommy confirmed, wearing a grin that could only mean trouble.

“Tommy,” Techno snarled, “You are encouraging them.”

Techno didn’t miss the way Tommy flinched before instantly becoming as big and bold as Techno had ever seen him.

“That’s the idea, big man,” he said, “consider this my revenge.”

That was the moment Techno realized that Tommy might as well be another member of this chaos gremlin child army that had decided to follow Techno around all of a sudden when he was supposed to be having a peaceful retirement.

“Technodad, Technodad, Technodad, Technodad…”

Chapter 2

Summary:

Dream gets attacked by an army of children.

Notes:

tw: ptsd, implied/referenced child abuse, referenced claustrophobia, implied/referenced manipulation, nightmares

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Turned out, living with Technoblade wasn’t so bad.

Maybe it was because Tommy was surrounded by a bunch of toddlers who were born in the depths of chaos.

Tommy loved it.

Every day, Tommy would be surrounded by countless children, telling him to get up, to play with them, to brush his teeth, to eat breakfast, to make a snowman, to do all sorts of random crap.

Most days, Tommy barely got anything done, but he somehow felt busier and more full of purpose than he had in weeks.

“Chaos,” Technoblade moaned basically every morning, pouring himself a cup of coffee as a child began dancing on the kitchen counter, “Pure chaos. Try reading, then you’ll regret encouraging them.”

“Jokes on you,” Tommy said, grinning mischievously as another child began climbing him, “I hate reading.”

Techno’s face looked akin to one who’s life had just flashed before their eyes.

Still, that didn’t mean every day was perfect. Nightmares were a particular problem. The children weren’t exactly good about letting Tommy sleep through a nightmare.

Which was great, in theory. As a matter of fact, Tommy should be thrilled that he only had to see you-know-who’s stupid face-mask-whatever for about five minutes before he was quickly being woken up by the chaos children. And then they would spend the rest of the night building blanket forts and disorganizing Techno’s chests.

The unfortunate thing was that these children could not keep a secret to save their lives.

“Uncle Toms was crying in his sleep last night,” one child said one morning as he climbed Techno’s cape.

Tommy gave that child a look of pure betrayal. “I was not,” he protested. He glanced around, looking for a distraction. He found one pretty easily. “Techno, there’s a child on your rafters.”

Techno sighed and stood up. “Of course, there is,” he muttered, “Okay, you need to come down now!”

The child only laughed, continuing to climb on the ceiling like it was a jungle gym.

Techno sighed, sitting back down. “He’ll be fine.” Techno turned back to the cape-climbing child. “Please, continue about Tommy.”

“Techno!” Tommy gasped, betrayed.

The child grinned. “I’ll tell you…” they said slowly, “If you let me braid your hair.”

At the words, at least twenty children converged at the spot the original child was standing at, raising their hands like they were about to be picked to be pulled up on stage or something.

“I’ll tell you!” “No, me!” “I was here first!” “First!” “None of you were first, I was first!”

Techno sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Each of you can tell me, and each of you can have a turn at braiding my hair.”

“Tommy cried last night.” “He looked scared.” “He asked about Dream.” “Who’s Dream?” “He was really scared.” “Do racoons cry?” “What are nightmares?”

Techno stared at Tommy, who swallowed and stared at his hands, trying not to feel too ill.

“Were you planning on telling me that you got nightmares, or was I just going to have to be told by a billion orphans myself?”

Tommy flinched. “Sorry,” he muttered, “I just didn’t want to bother you.”

Techno sighed, and Tommy flinched again, squeezing his eyes shut. Nothing happened. Well, the children were still shouting about something, but Tommy had no idea what.

“You won’t bother me,” Techno finally said through the mess of voices, “I’d appreciate it if you told me, but you don’t have to. I think the Chat has you covered.”

“Heck yeah!” “Technobro!” “Technobro, Technobro, Technobro…”

Tommy mustered up a small smile.

A child who seemed to always have their face squished against one of Techno’s windows exclaimed, “INTRUDERS.”

The Chat instantly burst into new chanting. “INTRUDER ALERT, INTRUDER ALTERT, INTRUDER ALERT.”

Techno swore. “I swear, if it’s that butcher army again, I’m going to kill something.”

Tommy’s stomach did a flip.

“What army?” Tommy demanded.

Techno made a face. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, looking over to the window-child, “Describe them!”

“Green, weird, looks like a Teletubby. Probably homeless.”

“HOMELESS TELETUBBY, HOMELESS TELETUBBY…”

Tommy’s heart hammered against his chest as he realized the implications. “Is he wearing a mask?”

Window-child nodded. “Has a weird smiley face on it. I could draw a better smiley face.”

“Bet!” “I could draw a better smiley face!” “Smiley faces are easy!” “You are all crazy.”

Techno was on his feet in an instant. “Crap, Tommy, you’ve got to hide.”

Tommy nodded, feeling ill. Dream was coming for him; Dream was going to kill him; Dream was coming for him… but Dream wanted what was best for him, right? Dream wanted to protect him; Dream was trying to make Tommy better; Dream was—

“Tommy,” Techno snapped, “Tommy, you need to hide in that barrel.”

Techno pointed to a very small barrel.

Tommy laughed nervously. “That’s an incredibly small barrel, Technoblade,” he said, “I’m claustrophobic you know, I don’t think I want to hide in that barrel. I doubt anyone will mind if I just…”

“We’ll hide him!” one of the children cried.

“Yeah!”

“HIDE HIM, HIDE HIM, HIDE HIM, HIDE HIM…”

The next thing Tommy knew, he was being ushered into a nearby closet. About twenty invisibility potions were being thrust into his hands, and he had two children sitting in his lap.

“How?” Tommy began, hearing chaos noise still going on outside the closet door.

“We are amazing,” said one of the children in his lap.

“You need to drink the potion to be invisible,” said child two, “Then you can prank mask man.”

Tommy shuddered. “I think I’ll stay here.”

Child one nodded sagely. “Very well,” they said, “Operation prank homeless Teletubby shall commence.”

 

Techno watched Dream walk into his not-so-humble abode (it needed to fit hundreds of children, okay?) with suspicion.

Something had clearly happened during Tommy’s exile, and Techno was not for it.

Neither, it seemed, were the orphans. Because Dream opened his mouth to speak, and was instantly attacked by an army of children with water guns.

“DIE,” the children shrieked, spritzing water all over Dream.

Dream let out a surprised shriek before quickly patting himself down and collecting himself. “Hello, Technoblade,” he said calmly, “I didn’t realize retirement meant running an orphanage. You’ve really changed your ways, huh?”

“Oh, trust me,” Techno said dryly, “They would not be here if I had any modicum of control over them.”

Said children were now running around, screaming, “ATTACK ONE FAILED. COMMENCE ATTACK TWO.”

Dream chuckled. “I’m looking for a specific child,” he said, “I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”

Techno shrugged. “Dream, I’m going to be completely honest, I know next to nothing about these children.”

“Oh, you’ll know—”

Dream was interrupted by a bucket of glue that was suddenly poured all over him. Both he and Techno glanced up to see the rafter-child dumping the glue onto Dream. He immediately scrambled away when Techno made eye-contact with him.

“Like I said,” Techno said, “No control at all.”

Dream sighed. “Show me Tommy.”

Techno tried his best to look surprised.

“Play dumb,” one of the cape children whispered.

“Tommy? I don’t know any Tommys,” Techno said automatically.

“Too dumb,” the cape children whispered again.

Suddenly, the children began dancing around Dream, throwing feathers and confetti and glitter at Dream’s already glue-coated form.

“I’m Tommy!” one of the children called out.

“No, I’m Tommy!”

“I thought I was Tommy!”

Was it wrong that Techno had no idea if those children were actually named Tommy, or if they were purposefully confusing Dream, who now looked less like a Teletubby and more like a two-year-old’s art project.

Fortunately, it worked, and Dream all but sprinted out of the place, muttering about “chaos children” and “teaching them a lesson.”

Yeah, Techno really doubted that was happening anytime soon.

The children all but carried Tommy out of wherever they hid him, bragging proudly of how they vanquished the homeless teletubby.

“Look, we have pictures!”

Tommy was practically rolling on the floor laughing by the time they were done looking at the pictures.

“You…” Tommy announced, wiping away tears of joy, “Are my new favorite humans.”

“Don’t encourage them,” Techno said tiredly, not managing to restrain the smile that was threatening to overtake his own face.

He had to admit, Dream did look pretty funny.

Notes:

Was going to get the wilbur interlude out, which is clocking at nearly 4k words, but it isn't nearly done, so you get this instead. :)

now time to read unbeatable method.

I hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading, and please be nice in the comments! <3