Wilbur’s Wheel of (Mis)Fortune

It was a humble building with wooden walls and large glass windows. The sign had the name The Captains Ship inked in red cursive. Anyone who were to pass by could hear the boisterous laughter and feel the practical buzzing of magic in the air.

Wilbur slid into the tavern, glancing around and taking in the many scents and sounds. The boasting of a drunk patron as he pulled his arm around one of the men next to him. The laughter of barkeep as she poured a drink for another man. The quiet pitter-patter of feet hitting the wooden ground as the servers weaved in and out among the crowd. The smell of sweat and alcohol clung to his nose uncomfortably, causing him to pull a small face of discomfort with a wrinkled nose and furrowed brows.

Though the tavern itself was admittedly nice. Wilbur had visited multiple taverns now as he traveled along. None meeting even close to these standards. Though it made sense. Though the town itself was smaller, the people were more well-off. The houses were nicer, large and study, looking as if they could hold up even in the worst of storms.

The tavern was large, even larger than some of the mansions Wilbur had passed on his way through town. The open building was still filled to the brim with people. Men having a beer after a long day of work, travelers just visiting in the city, women for their night out, away from their children. The tavern was lively, fun. There was boasting and stories and sorts, but no fighting, no hollering insults or tossing pointed glares as some stranger brushed past. Instead, Wilbur was met with a toothy smile and either a wave or a slight nod.

Despite it growing dark outside, from what Wilbur could see out the window just by the door, the tavern was bright. Filled with lighting, either by magic or lanterns and candles, Wilbur wasn't sure. Although Wilbur wasn't surprised, he wasn't impressed. Despite the fact taverns were usually the popular location in towns, not all could stay open after dark because of the lack of lighting. Something Wilbur had learned the hard way.

Wilbur finally managed to squeeze past the crowds of people and to the bulletin board that was pinned on the wall. There were posters and newspapers alike. Each with bold lettering and eye-catching phrases. There to catch people up on the news or perhaps request for a job to be done. 

None of the jobs posted seemed to catch his attention. They were rather boring, asking for help moving something or running errands for a day. Wilbur didn't give much care about the jobs though, despite knowing they were boring, he knew he needed the money more. There was only so much traveling he could do with the amount of money he had taken from home and with each passing day his stash was dwindling smaller and smaller.

His attention was pulled away from the board as the scent of watermelon tinged with salt filled his senses.

"Looking for a job?" A girl asked. Her voice was light and airy and Wilbur couldn't help but look over, feeling drawn to it.

He was met with a smaller girl, one who reached just under his chin. Her hair was chopped short, just below her chin and colored a rose-gold. She had a kind smile, soft and dainty in every way but her eyes. People say that the eyes reveal the soul. The truth behind every intention and everyone. This girl was curious, untrusting of him, as any stranger should be. Still, she was approachable. From what he could tell she didn't seem to have bad intentions of any sort. Actually, based on her appearance she seemed to be a worker in the tavern. Though he couldn't tell if it was closer to a server or perhaps cook. 

Wilbur gave his own smile back, one with more teeth than hers. "Perhaps," 

The girl hummed quietly, seeming to take in his ragged appearance. He knew he was a mess, as any traveler would look. His yellow sweater was dull from being out in the sun, dirt smudging the cuffs of his sleeves and right around the collar. He was still wearing his coat, the patches on it to hopefully keep it from tearing anymore. Though, like his sweater, with each passing day it wore down. He still had his bags as well, having no intentions of setting either of them down. He didn't want some thief to come snatch them up.

The girl's smile turned soft, "You must be tired from traveling. If you want, I can help get you a room to settle in for the night. That way you can set down your stuff before joining the crowd again,"

Wilbur hesitated. That actually sounded really nice. A chance to set down his heavy bags and sit down for a hot meal. Perhaps this tavern had a bath as well. That wasn't something he was used to missing either.

"That would be nice, Thank you," Wilbur gave a slight nod to the girl. His own posture relaxed, no longer gripping onto his bags as if they were going to be torn out of his grasp. His shoulders sagged ever so slightly and he let the peace overtake him. The bustling energy of the tavern was strangely relaxing in a way. It made sense why it was so popular.

The girl nodded, guiding Wilbur through the crowd to the barkeeper where she knocked once, twice, then a third time onto the counter. This seemed to easily catch the attention of the barkeeper because the next thing he knows, the woman is in front of him.

Unlike the sweet smell of the pink-haired girl, the Barkeeper smelled of wood and coffee. Something strong and motherly. She was less dainty looking than the girl who had first talked to him. She was wearing what a pirate would usually be dressed in, though maybe ever so slightly more casual. The shirt was an off-white color and her red coat was hanging up just behind the bar, or what he assumed was her coat. Wilbur couldn't help but let his smile turn sad at the sight of the gold. She was wearing rings and earrings and bracelets and jewelry. Wilbur would be lying if he said his stomach didn't twist at the reminder of his brother figure. Her curled, white hair was pulled back so it stayed out of her face, the red bandana around her head only helping to ensure that. The smile she gave Wilbur reminded one of a mother greeting their child after a long day of work. One that Wilburs mother used to give him back when he was young. 

"A traveler, I assume? I haven't seen you around here before," The woman spoke kindly, turning to the girl, "Thank you, Niki. You've been a lot of help,"

The girl, Niki as Wilbur now knew her, gave a nod before turning away, walking off only to disappear into the crowd.

Wilbur looked back at the barkeeper, his smile growing less pointed teeth and more timid. Like a pup awaiting a lecture from his parent. However, the woman was already moving, grabbing the key and sliding it over to him.

"-oh yeah. My name is Puffy, if you ever need me. The bar is busy but I'll still send one of my servers up with you to find your room," Puffy explained. Her eyes caught the eye of what Wilbur assumed was one of the servers, waving them over with the energy of a child.

"This is Tommy," Puffy continued as a blond boy approached the duo, "He'll be showing you to your room. Hopefully, without any problems," At the ending sentence, Tommy only rolled his eyes, waving her off oh-so-casually.

"I am never the problem!" Tommy exclaimed. The voice was louder than Wilbur had expected, sending him reeling back slightly. Though not that either of the two noticed. Tommy was too busy rambling on to Puffy about how he was a 'big man' and how it was the 'bitch ass customers' faults. Puffy just looked like a tired mother, that was the only way Wilbur could describe it. The amusement in her gaze and the smile tugging at her lips while she at least tried to look exasperated. One that reminded Wilbur of his own when he was younger, having always gotten into trouble. 

Wilbur cleared his throat, trying to garner the attention of the duo. He could feel his own chest lighten with the carefree banter between the two, more-so with the boy than the barkeeper. It was different, less stale and less tense than the places he had traveled. But there was more freedom to it, a spark of hope.

Wilbur couldn't prevent the grin that split across his face when he met the eyes of Tommy. The younger boy's blue eyes widened slightly, as if he had forgotten that Wilbur had been there this whole time, before he settled with furrowing them in an angry manner.

"You're a bitch," Tommy stated. The blunt words paired with the loud, aggressive tone, only kept the smile on Wilburs face. It wasn't too often you heard someone talk as casually as this.

The Barkeeper opened her mouth to scold the younger boy, only for Wilbur to easily interrupt.

"And you're a child. A small, little gremlin," Wilbur taunted back, keeping his own voice light and airy. The boy did remind him of a child. Bright blue eyes with baby fat still on his face. Not only that, but Tommy smelled of mud and wet grass and cinnamon. Something childish and angry. He saw the Barkeeper, Puffy, turn the attention onto him out of the corner of his eye. Though she only seemed to shake her head with what Wilbur could only assume was amusement.

Tommy seemed flabbergasted for a moment, sputtering and stumbling over his words. He then remembered he wasn't supposed to react that way it seemed, because next thing Wilbur knows, Tommy's gaze sharpened, zoning in to glare at Wilbur yet again.

"I'm not a child," The boy snaps, crossing his arms over his chest in what was supposed to be a threatening way. The stance only made him look as if he was a kid pouting because he didn't get his way.

Wilbur raised an eyebrow, trying to keep the laughter from bubbling out. 

"Whatever you say, child," his voice was more choked as he fought against his laughter.

Tommy only scoffed in response, scowling at the other before holding out his hand. "Come on. I'll take you to your room. Hand me over your shit or whatever,"

"You sound like you're going to rob me or something," Wilbur mused, passing over one of his bags. His other he kept a tight grip on.

His guitar was his most prized possession and no way in hell was he going to let this kid get his grubby little hands on it.

Tommy passed a look over the bigger bag Wilbur clutched desperately to, though didn't say anything out loud. Instead, the younger boy began walking ahead, chatting on and on about the pranks he had played with someone else called Tubbo.

The change in Tommy was nearly immediate. Much unlike the scowling boy with crossed arms, he was now rambling animatedly with wild hands and bright eyes. The rambling even continued when they stopped at a wooden door, chipped at the edges and worn down with age.

Tommy fished a key out of his pocket, unlocking the wooden door. He didn't have much care for the state of the door, throwing it open and letting it harshly slam against the wall.

Wilbur entered the room with Tommy trailing behind him.

It was nice, like the tavern, it was in better conditions than most. It had a more rustic feel to it. A lantern hung in the corner of the small room. Wilbur slowly made his way towards the bed, inspecting the wooden frame, before carefully setting the guitar case on the off-white bedsheets.

Wilbur couldn't help but wrinkle his nose slightly at the scent of the room. It was filled with all sorts of smells from fire to fruit, however it was all musky. The old scents of previous travelers who made their home in the inn for a few days. The worst part about the room was the overwhelming smell of chemicals of soap and other cleaners, as if someone had tried to get rid of the many smells.

Tommy dropped Wilburs other bag beside the wooden dresser, just across from the bed. His own face was twisted with a wrinkled nose and furrowed eyebrows.

Wilbur looked over and seeing his expression, couldn't help but let out a cackle.

"Something wrong?"

"Shut up, bitch. Nothings wrong," Tommy scowled, glaring, "What's in the case anyways?" The boy asked, waving his hand to gesture towards the black case. It was well loved, worn down and scratched up with age.

"My guitar," Wilbur replied, opening the case to show the guitar. It looked like it was cared for much better, though still just as worn down and loved.

Wilbur noticed the odd stare that Tommy was giving it. A frown twisting at the edges of his mouth.

"Everything okay?" Wilbur raised an eyebrow. The frown was genuine, taking him by surprise. The younger boy was filled with many extreme emotions, though they were quick to come and go. This one was still present even now, and unlike the scowls and yelling, this one didn't seem fake either.

"I bet your playing is ass," Tommy sniffed. His voice wasn't loud, a normal volume level for him. 

Wilbur couldn't help but give the boy an amused look. Music was his life. People often commented how it was a surprise he wasn't a siren or even a vampire, of which could compel people. Music was just as natural for him as running in the forest with dirt and leaves under his paws.

Tommy's eyes tore away from the guitar, meeting Wilburs eyes instead, "Y'know Puffy has been needing someone to play music in the tavern. You could probably talk to her about it,"

"Huh," Wilbur nodded slowly, taking the information into consideration. He'd have to ask. He enjoyed playing and it would be an easy way for him to make money. Not to mention the workers here seemed to be nice. Something in him was wanting to stay. Something he didn't even know.

"I'll have to talk to Puffy about that later then, huh?" Wilbur gave a grin.

Tommy scoffed, "I still bet you play like ass,"

"Whatever you say, Tommy,"

—————

Wilbur did not, in fact, play like ass. Quite the opposite actually. Puffy offered him the job with a smile and the shake of a hand, as well as the words along the lines of 'welcome to the family'.

And a family it was indeed. Although it wasn't by blood, they were family. With meals filled with chatter and laughter about their day after the large crowd of people finally settled. The early morning escapes to the kitchen to help Niki bake. The nearly daily checkups with Puffy. The pranks he played with Tommy and his two friends, Tubbo and Ranboo.

It was a family. All in all. Something weird and put together but there.

It was fun. Freeing. Sure, Wilbur now had his own responsibilities. Everyone at the tavern did, but it was no longer a chore or something to keep himself busy with. Sure, his heart ached here and there at the memory of his other family, his pack, the one he left behind, but then he would be dragged back into the servers' antics or the kind smile of Niki or Puffy.

With each passing day, Wilbur found himself growing closer to each person. Learning Niki was a Siren who was discovered by Puffy when the elder was a captain, or that Ranboo was, in fact, human. He was just taller than most with vitiligo that caused his skin to split into two shades. He learned Tubbo had an obsession with bees and explosives, two things that should never mix but somehow just fit the little elf boy. 

Wilbur was growing the closest to Tommy. The boy was loud and blunt, with a fiery temper. But there was something else under that mask he seemed to hide behind. A heart of gold, a little boy who just wanted someone to love him.

Wilbur had only seen that mask slip a few times. Mostly when the boy was tired, stumbling into his room after a nightmare. Wilbur wasn't sure exactly when Tommy decided to come to him after a nightmare. It just sort of happened. Leaving the two to lay on the bed together, Tommy burying his face into Wilburs chest as he carded his hands through the blonds hair.

When they had a free day, Tommy would trail behind Wilbur like a little duckling, rambling on and on about some random facts or something he did with Tubbo and Ranboo. Puffy often made the comparison when they returned out from town, two cups of hot chocolate resting on the bar waiting for them to return.

After a month, it had become official. The jokes about brothers and ducklings became real. Something the duo decided on mutually because they weren't just friends anymore, they were brothers. They were pack.

It was the day of the full moon about a month after Wilbur first arrived. Wilbur had seen the stress Tommy was experiencing all day, with it only growing worse as the day went on. Though he pushed it aside. Tommy was not avoiding him today. Maybe he just wanted to hang out with Ranboo and Tubbo more. That had to be it.

Wilbur had talked to Puffy beforehand about his shift. Stating that he couldn't reject it. Puffy had understood, of course she understood, and gave him a night off to do what was needed.

So when the sun began to set and the moon was starting to rise, Wilbur headed out into the forest. He was quick to shift, maybe a little stiff. It had been some time since he had shifted afterall. He wasn't swamped in work but being a human was easier than being a wolf when involving with the tavern.

It had been a while. Wilburs senses were wild, instincts wanting him to bury everything human. He could already feel the slight headache pounding at his left temple from the scents. Although his senses were strong as a human, they were even stronger as a wolf.

Still, Wilbur forced himself to push his instincts into the back of his mind, trotting along the forest in silence. The grass was soft under his paws, the air chilled ever so slightly.

The silence was beginning to bother him though. It was times like these he missed his pack the most. There was no play fighting with Techno or annoying Phil to no end. It was just him. Lonely in a forest.

He found his own little clearing. A small willow tree resting just by the bank of a slow moving river. It was calming, listening to the trickling of the water as it rushed by. The full moon reflected off the water, casting a faint glow on the bank.

Just as Wilbur began to settle down beneath the willow tree, an overwhelming scent of cinnamon and mud hit him. It was different, definitely a person. The wolf brain in control couldn't help the instincts that screamed packpackpack .

He was running then, paws pounding into the ground. Darting around trees before next thing he knows, he's colliding with a pup.

Immediately, his mind went to helping the young wolf. Helping the young pup to his feet with a gentle nudge at his shoulder. He circled once, twice, to make sure that the younger wolf was okay before he finally took in the actual appearance of the wolf.

They were smaller, having yet to reach shoulder length of Wilbur. A wry and thin frame. Wilbur couldn't help but count the ribs seen through the pups flank.

The other thing was the golden coat. It wasn't entirely well-kept, a little muddy at the paws and sticking up at the ends.

Wilbur stopped pacing around the other wolf when he noticed the stare. Wary and uneasy, blue eyes sharp and cautious. Ears flicking as if to make sure they weren't going to be attacked from behind.

Wilbur immediately dropped down, resting his head on his front paws in a way to make himself look smaller.

The younger wolf padded forward a few steps, still a bit skittish and looking as if he was ready to run at any moment. However, when Wilbur didn't suddenly jump up and tackle him, the pup settled down closer, just to the side of Wilbur, making sure to keep a distance to where they weren't touching.

They sat together for a while, Wilbur's wolf brain tired and at ease to be with another wolf, to no longer be lonely. The pup had also made itself comfortable as the night went on, resting against Wilbur's brown coat to keep warm in the chilled air.

Wilbur let his mind wander as he laid with the pup. He had never heard or seen another wolf around until now. And although wolves weren't typically aggressive with werewolves, they didn't tend to stick around for very long, even the abandoned pups.

Surely this was another werewolf then, one just as lonely, if not lonelier, than him. One without parents or support from a pack.

At that moment, Wilbur adopted the boy. Into his pack and into his family. He wasn't well cared for by the looks of it, made of skin and bones, and no werewolf wanted to be alone on a full moon. The pup was calmer now, but he seemed smart. Perhaps he would get along well with Tubbo, Tommy and Ranboo, and if not, then he could hang out with Wilbur and Niki.

Wilbur gently nudged the boy with his nose, getting the tired pups attention. The look he was given was a tired glare, blue eyes foggy with sleep. Wilbur was given a harsher nudge back, along with a soft noise of discomfort for being bothered.

The pup buried himself back into Wilbur. The duo stayed like that for the rest of the night, waiting for the sun to rise. Wilbur's wolf brain memorizing the pups scent of cinnamon and mud, so whenever they went off their own way, he'd find the boy again.

And find the younger boy he did. He stepped into the inn, eyes drooping and feet dragging. The inn smelled of eggs and toast and bacon, Niki having just finished making breakfast. One of the tables was crowded with people who worked at the inn.

Wilbur dropped down to sit by Niki, head resting on the table as his friend let out a soft laugh.

"You look tired,"

"I am," Wilbur grumbled, sitting up to give a half-hearted glare at Niki.

Niki merely shrugged, trying to mask her amusement and hide the soft laughter that escaped her lips.

Niki continued the conversation as Wilbur ate his food. Wilbur only hummed in agreement every once and a while, trying to seem as if he was tuned in. His mind was preoccupied, thinking of how he had to search for the newest member of his pack and how exhausted he was.

His mind was startled from his tired daze as his wolf brain shifted to the surface echoing packpackpack as the scent of cinnamon and mud made itself known with the breakfast beginning to be cleaned up.

His head shot up, eyes wildly darting around in search of the boy. His newest pack member. He first looked towards the entrance. Perhaps the boy had stumbled in while searching for him. Though he hadn't heard any footsteps from that area and there was no one new in the inn. Not this early.

"Wilbur? You okay?" Tommy's voice was the one thing that snapped him out of his instincts. He came back to wide eyed stares and slack jaws of his friends.

Wilbur sucked in a sharp breath. There was the scent. The pup, his pack, was still there. It was fine. It was fine. It was fine .

"I'm fine," his voice was choked, hands fidgeting and tapping against his leg, trying to stay under control. Where was the pup? Why was he here? Why could he sense him but not see him?

Then he was pulled from his seat, dragged away by the younger blond boy. Shoved into the hallway and they were alone.

It was still there. Was he imagining it? The scent? The pup? Was he losing his mind? He's heard stories before of lone wolves leaving their pack, only to go insane from lack of contact with other wolves. Maybe that was it. Yes, that must be. He must be making the pup up. There was no way this just happened.

"Wilbur. Wilbur! Wilby!"

Wilbur flinched back as a fist hit against his chest. It wasn't a hard hit, just enough to pull him out of his instincts.

"Sorry," Wilbur choked out, "I'm just… in my head right now,"

Then there was a hug. Smaller arms wrapped around him, pulling him in and he was enveloped in warmth.

Wilbur buried his face into the blond's shoulder, wanting to hide away. From the world and from his own mind.

He inhaled sharply, trying to hold back his sobs. Was he going insane? Was this his own undoing?

"It's okay," The boy muttered, stiffly carding his hand through the brunets hair. It was comforting, in a way. Slightly amusing. For all the times he had done this to Tommy, the gesture had never been returned. Not until now, that is. And Tommy was never the one to usually comfort someone, often pushing his friends to someone he felt as if would be better fitting for the problem, usually Niki or Puffy, even Wilbur. Tommy was never the one to do the comforting.

Wilbur felt himself calming down. It was easy, as if he was back in the arms of his own pack. He shakily inhaled, taking in the scent of the blond. Mud and cinnamon and…

God either he was insane or this boy, this brother figure, was the pup. His newest pack member.

Wilbur quickly pulled away, gripping the blondes shoulders and staring him in the eyes, holding eye contact.

God, how did he not notice earlier. He was blonde, his eyes shared the similar mischievous spark as the pup and they were so blue . Not to mention he shared the same scent as the pup, or the pup shared the same scent as him.

Tommy was staring at Wilbur with wide eyes, trembling slightly under the grip Wilbur had on his shoulders. Wilbur made sure to loosen it ever so slightly, not wanting to make the younger boy uncomfortable.

"Tommy, were you out in the woods last night?" Wilbur kept his voice soft, trying to hide the tremble beneath it and the sob that wanted to rip free. He felt as if he was choking, rubber bands holding his lungs hostage and constricting his breathing.

Tommy slowly nodded, eyes filled with fear and darting aside. Not wanting to meet Wilbur's eyes.

"Tommy, were you the golden wolf?"

It was tense. Not silent, never silent. Not with Tommy. Breaths came out strangled and uneasy. Eyes darting to and from each other. Grip tightening and trembling so close to collapsing.

Then there was another nod. It shattered.

Tommy let out a choked sob, collapsing into Wilbur's arms. Wilbur could only let out a sigh of relief, holding the boy, his newest pack mate, close. He was safe. The pup was here. The pup was Tommy .

"It's okay, I'm not mad. It's okay," Wilbur murmured softly into his packmates ear. Soft hand rubbing the boys back in a circular motion. He could feel his shirt becoming soaked with tears and snot, but he couldn't find much in him to care. Because right here, right now, was the small pup, his little brother, safe in his arms.

"It's okay, Toms. You're safe now,"

And how funny it was. His little brother was the pup he wanted to adopt. The pup he wanted to adopt was already his .

"You're safe now, Toms,"

—————

Techno opened the door to the tavern, letting the older blond man slip in. There wasn't a whole lot to it. Sure it was nicer than a few other taverns, though he didn't see a huge appeal in it. Like every other tavern, it was loud, crowded. The amount of people in such a small space, although larger than other taverns, was disgusting.

It was one of the more popular taverns too. Apparently gaining more patrons since the recent addition of a new musician. One with the voice of an angel. Or a siren. Techno wasn't too sure if he believed it, but Phil sure did. It was the only reason they didn't skip this town to head to the next, and decided to retire early.

Techno supposed that it was fair. He missed Wilbur just as much as Phil did. He had been missing for six months. Months away without a son and without a friend. They had hoped that he would come stumbling back a few weeks later. Though after they were proven wrong, they began their search.

Home just wasn't home without their musician.

Wilbur did it in a special way, a way where with each word he poured his heart and soul out. Each lyric was molded with such care and each strum with purpose.

And maybe that's why Techno didn't care much to hear a new musician. Not one could compare to Wilbur. Even trying would be fruitless.

The musician Phil wanted to see so desperately wasn't even there. Instead there was loud laughter and moving bodies. The scent of alcohol clung to Technos nose, making him choke.

One boy approached, skin split with two different colors. By no means did he look human, towering over both Phil and Techno, possibly even Wilbur if he was here. But there was no way to identify what he was otherwise. That, and the look in his eyes said differently.

Tall boy!

Little String bean!

He's definitely human!

Do you think Phil is going to adopt a new kid?

Look at our little Oreo!

The voices were already giving him a headache.

"Welcome to Captains Ship. What can I do for you?" The boy stammered out, voice quiet and anxious. A fair reaction, honestly. Techno looked quite threatening upon first appearance, even with his long pink hair. He had yet to remove his boar mask and although he didn't tower over the server, the younger boy was a twig compared to him.

"Hey mate, we were looking for a place to stay. There a room open?" Phil spoke. His voice was naturally calmer. In general, Phil was naturally calmer. While Techno gave off a strong aura, one to be feared, Phil was kind and calming. An odd duo they made, but a duo nonetheless. If it weren't for Techno knowing Phil, really knowing Phil, he would be surprised as well.

"Uh- yeah. There should be a room open," The boy nodded, averting his eyes from the duo, "I can take you to the Captain. She has the keys and rooms,"

"Thanks mate!" Phil nodded, glancing over at Techno momentarily before starting to follow the human boy.

When they got to the bar, Phil seemed to immediately recognize the bartender. The woman gave a wide grin just after giving a brunet server a tray of drinks and sending him off.

"Well then. It's nice seeing you again, Phil. I didn't know you had a son," Puffy spoke casually, shooting the shorter man a grin.

Techno grunted, voicing his distaste, "Old friend,"

Puffys smile softened, turning more sincere and apologetic, "Sorry, didn't know you had friends,"

Phil gave a small scoff, one with mirth. "Nice seeing you here, Puffy. It's been some time, hasn't it?"

"That it has," Puffy laughed lightly, "You're just in time. I remember you enjoy music and hopefully my musician will be out soon,"

"Hopefully?" Phil mused, raising an eyebrow.

"He's been bothering my cook and some of the servers in the back," Puffy shook her head, "I love him but he can be quite a handful. Likes distracting some of the work,"

Speaking of some of the servers, Techno couldn't help but notice the human server had disappeared. Probably to the back if what Puffy had said was true.

"Not to worry. He'll be out at some point," Puffy continued, "Especially if his little brother is out here," Puffy seemed to be eyeing someone out in the crowd.

Then there was a blond haired boy up by the counter. Like the other boy, he was dressed as a server, though messier. Covered in a white powder of what looked to be flour. And if Puffys word was anything to go by, he was probably the little brother she spoke of.

"Puffy! Captain! Big man- woman, sorry," the blond began, voice grating on Technos ears, making him cringe. "Niki is making Wil clean up the kitchen. Had a small fight in there,"

Techno would be lying if he said his heart didn't seize up at the name. Being reminded of the pack member that just disappeared.

Sadnoblade

It's okay

Don't be sad

Rip

"I see that," Puffy kept her voice level, lips twitching as she fought back a grin, "Did you leave them to clean up?"

"Yep!" The boy gave a mischievous grin, eyes sparkling, "I'll let the bastard clean it up himself. The wrong'un,"

The server then noticed the duo beside him, glaring at them with crossed arms. He took note of Technos blank expression, covered by the boar mask, then the wide grin of Phil.

Uh oh. Phil wants to adopt this one

Adoption arc Pog

Speedrun adoption.

"You guys look like some stuck up bastards," the boy sniffed, ignoring the quiet 'Tommy! Manners!' From Puffy.

Phil only shook his head with amusement, watching as the boy quickly scrambled off to the back yet again.

"He was… charming," The blond man looked over at Puffy.

"Oh no. Phil, you better not be planning to adopt another child," Techno muttered.

"I would never," Phil feigned innocence, unable to hide the grin.

Liar

Philza is Father

Fatherza 

Dadza

Then there was the strum of a guitar, the room falling nearly silent. It was as if time stopped. The only thing being the brunet musician up on the stage, strumming the guitar and humming along, not yet singing.

At first Techno didn't recognize him. He was healthier looking, happier too. With the blond boy at his side, nodding his head along.

But it was him. It was Wilbur. The very same Wilbur who would drag Techno along to play music with him. The one who would place a book in his hand and the one who got him into Greek Mythology. The Wilbur who would refuse to train with a sword and who had insisted on fighting with words rather than weapons.

It was Wilbur. Tall and thin, with wire-framed glasses and messy curls of brown hair. Warm brown eyes and a smile that lit up the room.

A smile that Techno hadn't seen since the death of Kristin. Of his mother. Instead being replaced by one of sadness, something that wasn't quite its full potential. Even on days of celebration, birthdays and such, that smile was lacking.

So yes, Wilbur had changed. He looked happier and sounded happier. Each note was played with a different, more powerful energy than ever before.

And maybe part of Techno regretted holding him back. Though it was never completely his fault.

Still, the argument from just a few nights before Wilbur had ran away couldn't help but surface.

"I'm just a boy with an acoustic guitar! I don't want to be anything else! Anything important! I'm not you and I'm not Phil! I'm my own person!"

So when Techno and Phil approached Wilbur and the blond boy —Tommy, if Techno remembered correctly, That was what Puffy had called him — there was only kind smiles and soft reassurances. Perhaps a wary gaze from both of the younger boys, but even they began to relax.

Little Runt

Wilbur beat Phil

It's a family gene

The voices filled Technos head, keeping him from the awkward silence that he knew enveloped the group of his packmates and the younger boy. It was times like these he was thankful for the annoying little shits in his head.

"Dad," Wilbur's voice was soft, quiet. Like a song muffled by water. "Tech,"

Techno glanced between the two boys. Wilbur and the child beside him. It seemed that the voices were right. Adopting children must be a family gene.

His gaze settled on Tommy. The younger blond boy with fidgeting hands and a spirit to him. If what he saw with Puffy was anything to go by. There was another thing about him. Something he couldn't quite tell.

Each time he looked at the boy, there was this little static at the back of his head. It wasn't negative in any way. It wasn't like the annoying noise of a television grating on his ears, more like a soft, comforting white noise. Something familiar but Techno couldn't quite think of where he last remembered it.

"You mind introducing me to your friend?" Phil asked, glancing between Wilbur and Tommy. Techno could already start to hear the gears in the older man's head turn. He knew that he was immediately gunning to adopt the boy, though something told him Wilbur beat him to it.

"This is my little brother, Tommy," Wilbur reached over to ruffle the blonds hair, "Toms, this is my Dad, Phil, and twin brother, Techno,"

"Wil, We aren't biological siblings," Techno grumbled, although there was a part of him that missed it. His twin brother. While Phil was an old friend, Wilbur was more of a brother figure, someone he would annoy to no end and who would annoy him back, but they loved each other still. Always would.

"I may or may not have added Tommy to the pack," Wilbur admitted. His smile was sheepish, waiting for any possible backlash from the duo, only to realize there would be none. Techno immediately realized that static was the start of a pack bond and by the wide grin on Phil's phase, he wasn't upset about the newest addition.

"So we're going to be babysitting a gremlin child?" Techno muttered, all light hearted to those who knew him best. There was no bite to his words, no real meaning of hatred towards the boy.

"Hey! I'm not a child!" The blond immediately snapped.

"Don't worry, he's very cuddly when he's tired," Wilbur chimed in, joining the antics.

And oh, the boy looked furious. Eyes darting back and forth as he glared between Techno and Wilbur.

"I will bite you," Tommy immediately settled on saying, though Techno wasn't sure exactly who it was directed towards.

And with the light-hearted banter, Techno began to see the bright new addition to the family. One which would be the annoying younger brother to them. Though as much as Techno wanted to hate the idea, he couldn't.

They never ended up going home. They couldn't. Not really. Because it wasn't home without Wilbur and Tommy. The two boys refused to leave, having their own family at the tavern. One with a human boy and a destructive elf. One with kind smiles from a siren and the motherly touch from a fae.

Phil and Techno could not tear Wilbur and Tommy away from that. Not when Wilbur got to hang out with his family everyday, play music every night, only to come home and settle down with his pack. With the chaotic blond boy who would ramble and banter. His twin brother who would sit quietly, often reading or perhaps joining into the conversation to make a few quips. His father who would tuck the boys into his side, running his fingers through their hair as if he was preening his own wings.

It was a strange family, indeed. Three wolves and a phoenix. But it was their family and they were happy.