Archive of Our Own

Philza has always loved the ocean. 

From running around on the beach as a tyke to chasing a life of crime across the open sea, the waves are probably his most faithful companion. He always looks forward to rising at dawn to the smell of saltwater, loves standing on the deck of his ship and feeling the sea spray hit his cheeks, loves going for a dip and letting the cool water cradle his form. He loves it so much that he tried to share it with his son as much as possible, and though Tommy never took to it quite as much as his father, it still brought Phil immeasurable joy to see that way his son's eyes reflected the sunny water in an almost exact match.

It was rather hard for Phil to remember all that when he's being tossed around by merciless, choppy waves, fighting against the stormy sea desperately to keep his head above water. If he had the breath to waste, he would be cursing anything and everything out for daring to hand him this lot in life. The seas, the storm, himself, his treacherous crew!

But as it is he can only manage to gasp for desperate breaths as his limbs get heavier and heavier, gaze locked on the boat disappearing off into the storm. His only hope at this point is a miracle or a piece of spare driftwood to find him before the cold makes his muscles lock up and he'll be lost at the bottom of the very waves he loved so much.

A mutiny, that's what this was, and he's been a part of enough of them in his day to know that there's no getting out of this alive. 

Even despite that, despite the cold numbing his fingers and the darkness creeping at the edges of his vision, he can't help but hold onto one last thought as the ocean begins to overpower his meager, human form.

I don't want to die...

The sailors who left their ships rarely caught Wilbur's eye. At most they wore a golden ring which he'd steal for Techno and abandon the corpse, but this one was different.

This one was holding his own against the thrashing waves, even though he was clearly losing.

And his hair was gold.

“It would really be a shame for all that gold to go to waste,” Wilbur explains to himself while dragging the man by the armpits to shore. Techno would want to see this fancy human with the golden hair. “That's all. He'll die on shore all the same anyway, I'm just prolonging it to show off.”

The human groans as he's dragged roughly along the sand, coughing weakly against the water that's snuck its way into his lungs. (Imagine not being able to breathe water! Lame.) As Wilbur drags him a little more up out of the waves, just to make sure he doesn't get swept back out... yet... the human's eyes twitch and flutter open, bleary-eyed. 

Wilbur yelps in surprise as he realizes he's trying to wake up and slaps a hand over the human's face, slitted pupils narrowing in alarm. That wasn't the plan! That wasn't the plan at all!

Techno's words echo in his mind sternly. Whatever happens, never be seen by a human. They are fickle, angry, and worst of all persistent. If they catch a glimpse of the unknown, they will not rest until you are dead, or worse, captured. 

"Slow down!" Wilbur says. "Your eyes have been closed a long time so— so the sun will probably hurt a lot if you open them."

The human coughs again, but his voice is still very hoarse when he speaks. "What...?"

"You were drowning and now you aren't so keep your eyes closed so you don't get burnt okay goodbye!" Wilbur rushes, doing his best to slide back into the water and safely away as fast as possible.

"Wh— wait, what...?" The human chokes out, trying to push himself up, but Wilbur is already gone, swimming through the waves.

Wilbur rushes through the water to the little cove he calls home.

"TECHNOOOOO!"

"Wilbur," his brother calls through the underwater cave, lounging in his favorite gold-covered nook. "What did you do? Actually, don't answer that." 

"I found some more gold!" Wilbur answers, ignoring Techno entirely.

Techno looks up from the sword he was considering, polished to perfection. "Mm?" He hums idly, but Wilbur knows him well enough to know he’s interested.

"The gold might just so happen to be a person— but it's fine because he's stuck on the island!"

Techno deadpans straight at him, bright blue tail flicking in annoyance. "A person."

"But he's gold, so it's okay?" Wilbur excuses.

"A human?" Techno stresses. "You interacted with a human?"

"He was very unconscious for most of it, and then I made sure he didn't see me! I told him the sun would burn his eyes so he had to keep them closed while I swam off," Wilbur explains, waving his hands back and forth awkwardly.

"Why?" Techno snaps. "Wilbur, you know what a risk—"

"He's all gold!" Wilbur interrupts. "Just— come look at him! You'll understand when you see him."

Techno wrinkles his nose. "He would have to be made of pure gold to make that worth it," he mutters, but reluctantly pulls himself out of his corner and swims over to Wilbur.

Wilbur leads Techno to the rocks where they can peek over without being in full view of the beach. "Look, over there!" Wilbur hisses.

Techno squints at the human on the beach, who hasn't moved much since Wilbur left him. In fact, he seems to be completely slumped against the sand, as though asleep. Or dead. Hopefully dead.

"Seems like a human," Techno drawls.

"Look up," Wilbur whispers, pointing at the human's hair.

Techno squints even more, and swims a little bit closer to try and make out the details in the fuzzy blobs of his eyesight. He goes about halfway before popping his head out of the water and staring again.

"Oh," Techno breathes, noticing the way the few rays of sunlight peeking through the clouds hit and bounce off the human's blonde hair. It looks like gold, just as Wilbur said.

"See?" Wilbur nods, proud of his find.

"That doesn't mean he's trustworthy," Techno insists. "We ought to drown him now. Have a snack."

Wilbur smacks Techno across the back of the head. "I do not make a habit of eating people anymore, Technoblade. I am not that old."

Techno huffs, smacking Wilbur playfully with his tail in return. "You sure? Not even a little nibble?"

"Which one of us is the mer?" Wilbur returns playfully. "You're the one who's meant to be seducing the humans and look at you!"

His brother simply wrinkles his nose, crossing his arms with a huff. "Yes, we all know that we got the respective wrong half of our genes," he retorts. "If I had some way to switch it I would. I don't even like singin'."

"Give me the necklace, then, and we'll see if I can sing this time," Wilbur says, though it's just an inside joke by now, the two having tried multiple times. "And you can take my weird fangs and chow down on some human meat, or even siren meat if you're feeling old."

"You know I love a good snack," Techno responds, reaching up to grab onto the emerald necklace hanging on his neck that Wilbur had referred to. A twin necklace hangs around Wilbur's neck as well, glowing ever so softly even underwater. Techno peeks his head up out of the waves to squint distrustfully at the human again, before ducking back under the surface. "What is your plan then? Just leave this human so close to our reef?"

"I mean, he'll starve eventually, won't he?" Wilbur shrugs.

"I guess," Techno mutters, stewing. Pouting, even.

"Aww, does the big bad Technoblade wanna play pretend? Try to be mer and kill the scary human like when we were kids?" Wilbur teases.

"Maybe I want to sing him to death," Techno challenges petulantly.

"Go on, sing then! Hear him start babbling about the joys of the flesh," Wilbur taunts, laughing.

"Ugh," Techno mock-gags at the thought. "Just— Shut up. Leave him alone then, if you're too much of a coward to deal with him yourself."

"He's got pretty hair," Wilbur reminds. "It'll be nice to just look at him for a while before he becomes fish-food."

"He does have pretty hair," Techno admits begrudgingly. "Whatever. I'm done here. Come back home when you're done playing around," he calls, swimming away into the ocean.

Wilbur chirps a goodbye as Techno swims off, looking back to see how his new human is faring.

When Philza comes to, it's not loud or vibrant. It's with a slight cough, and a wince as the sun, so annoyingly, shines right into his eyes.

He turns away and raises a hand to turn away the light, groaning as he slowly sits up. It feels like he's been hit by a ton of rocks. It feels like he's been through hell.

But as he opens his eyes, he sees only an empty, somewhat wimpy beach as trees and gravel threaten to take over the sand. On the other side is the familiar sight of the boundless sea, of which he has no boat to sail it.

"Fuck," Phil groans, flopping back against the gritty sand.

At least he's not dead. That's a plus?

But his son...

He needs to get off this island.

No time to sit around feeling sorry for himself (no matter how much he might want to mourn the loss of his ship and his crew—his baby —there's no time for that.) By whatever miracle he washed up on this shore, he's not going to take it for granted.

Food. Water. Shelter, a ship. He knows how to survive... He'll see Tommy again. 

By the sea, he'll see his son again.

The island provides for him. Not easily, not without cuts, scrapes, and probably some new scars, but it provides. There's a freshwater spring, plenty of berries, and a thriving ecosystem he hates to take from, but plenty of animals to feed himself until he makes a fishing set up.

By the time evening comes, Phil finds himself on the beach again, drinking spring water from a crudely-carved bowl and eating a few of the berries he had gathered. The long pirate's coat and many layers he had been pushed into the ocean with have been stretched out on the branches of the trees behind him, drying, leaving him in only a black tank top and light khaki pants. He stares out at the ocean, watching the familiar glint of moonlight on the water and basking in a symphony of waves.

He knows the night may be when the sea is the most beautiful, but it is also the most deadly. The creatures that will harm him most shy away from the light of the sun, but have no such qualms with the moon.

He should be getting to sleep soon. Before he sees something out there and gets too curious. 

Phil pushes himself to his feet and yawns, stretching his arms over his head and stepping back to settle into a small hollow he had found and somewhat cleared out on the edge of the woods. 

He curls up on the ground and, as he drifts off to sleep, prays for his son's safety.

The next day passes much the same. And the day after that. It seems like only the blink of an eye before he's been ousted on this island for a whole week.

It's lonely. But he's alive.

He stays up later and later at night, letting some of the warnings he'd been taught evade him. 

If there was going to be some sort of night-beast, surely it would have come for him by now anyway.

So he stays up, he watches the moon, and he looks out over the water. 

He doesn't realize that the water watches back, and that Wilbur yearns for more.

"Technooooo," Wilbur whines, one night. "I want to go on land. Sing into my rock so I can go on land!" 

"No."

"Horrible brother, you hate me. You want to crush my dreams."

Techno sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Why do you want to go on land?"

"I want to talk to the human!"

"No."

"But he's interesting, and he's not dying on his own!"

"Are you going to kill him?" Techno asks, looking up with narrowed, glowing blue eyes. 

"Uhhhhhhh. Yes," Wilbur says, you know, like a liar.

Techno scrutinizes Wilbur for a long, long moment, and Wilbur thinks his ruse is certainly up before it began, but Techno only sighs and holds a hand out.

Wilbur swims in a happy circle before depositing the emerald necklace into Techno's awaiting palm.

Techno sighs and holds the gem close to him, opening his mouth and beginning to weave a tune. He focuses and directs his siren magic into the emerald, enhancing its glow until it seems to become a beacon in the dim light of their cave. Wilbur watches with a faint stirring of wordless emotion as parts of Techno, his eyes, his tail, the tips of his hair, glow a soft blue with the activation of his magic.

But the moment passes, and Techno hands the emerald necklace back before reaching up and pulling his pink hair into a long ponytail. "Don't do anything stupid," he warns. "I don't want to have to come and get you." 

Wilbur grins and swims off with a tail-flip in goodbye.

He taps the gemstone a few times before dragging his body up onto the beach. He waits to dry, and once he does, a simple pair of human legs covered up with a red scale-patterned skirt have replaced his tail.

"HELL YEAH!" Wilbur shouts, forgetting to be quiet as he kicks around with his legs.

Wilbur only has a few minutes of newfound freedom before there's a crashing from the brush of the forest and he turns to see the human, hair and skin littered with a rather pathetic assortment of leaves, twigs, and mud, staring at him with wide, wide eyes the same exact color as the ocean Wilbur just came from.

There's a long moment of silence.

Wilbur blinks a few times before waving. "Hi!"

"What the fuck?" Phil blurts out.

"Well that's not a very nice introduction," Wilbur pouts.

"What— I— you—" Phil stammers wordlessly, trying to wrap his mind around the sudden company. "Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm— uh fuck what was it again in... Wilbur! I'm Wilbur." Wilbur says, snapping when he remembers. "I'm rusty with... this language. Sorry."

"...Right," Phil replies. This Wilbur certainly has a subtle accent, now that he knows to listen for it, and it's not one he recognizes. Which is strange, given how much he's traveled. "I'm Phil. Philza. Phil. Yeah, just Phil's fine," he explains awkwardly.

"Lovely to meet you Phil! How long have you lived here?" Wilbur asks.

"I, um. A week? About a week," Phil responds, still frazzled. "Who are— What about you?"

"Oh, I don't live here," Wilbur shrugs. "Just visiting."

"Visiting." Phil perks up, realizing something. "Do you have a boat?"

"No, sorry," Wilbur chirps. "I swim. I'm very good at swimming."

"You... swim."

"Yup! Like a fish. Blub blub."

"What— How far away is the next island?" Phil asks, bewildered.

"About an hour?" Wilbur replies.

"Swimming?"

"If you're good," Wilbur replies. "More like three for people who aren't good."

"That's a long time, but..." Phil blinks. "That should still be visible on the horizon. I— Look, I don't want to be here. I... fell overboard, and washed up here. I need to get back to the mainland, or somewhere I can get a boat."

"Oh, yeah... The closest place for that is a solid day of swimming," Wilbur mutters. "I'm sorry."

"Shit," Phil huffs, sitting on the ground heavily and leaning on his knees. "Fuck. You really had me going there for a sec."

"Sorry..." Wilbur mutters. "It's kind of an abandoned island, and all that. Sometimes we get pirates, but..."

"They're not exactly reliable," Phil mutters. "Fuck. Shit. Cock. Fine, I'll just have to... keep doing what I was doing. It's fine."

"Are you dying?" Wilbur asks curiously.

"Not yet? Luckily," Phil grunts.

"Well, please let me know if you start dying." 

"O... kay?" Phil replies awkwardly.

"Thank you," Wilbur grins, tilting his head to the side innocently.

"...So. Wilbur," Phil says slowly, pushing himself up to speak with Wilbur less awkwardly. "Why are you... out here?"

"I was trying to get away from my brother for a day," Wilbur answers. "He's stuck up sometimes so I come out here because I know he won't follow."

"Ah," Phil replies. "I've never had a brother, but I've heard enough complaints. I'm sure it'll work out though," he soothes.

"It will! After I drive him crazy looking for me for a day so he remembers why he loves me," Wilbur giggles.

"Don't worry him too much," Phil chides gently. "I'm sure he's just looking out for you."

Wilbur waits for a moment, thinking, but... "Naaaaah, I'm gonna make him fret for a whole week."

"Aw, mate—"

"He deserves it for locking me in a cave that one time when we were kids," Wilbur brushes off. "He's a big strong boy, he'll be fiiine."

Phil chuckles and gives Wilbur a soft smile. "Hey, be nice. It's valuable to have someone who cares about you."

"Absolutely, that's why I'm gone for now. When I go home, he's going to spoil me absolutely rotten."

"Alright, alright," Phil backs off obligingly, raising a hand with a grin. "In the meantime, would you like something to eat? I don't have all that much, but I imagine... swimming all the way here must've been exhausting."

"I don't need to take any of your food from you! I can catch my own fish plenty easy, don't worry," Wilbur laughs. "I'd borrow your knife to cut it up though."

"I haven't got a fishing setup yet," Phil admits. "But the berries on the island seem edible, and they're sweet. I haven't died from them yet." 

"There's only a few that aren't edible, but those ones taste bad," Wilbur hums. He shuffles around and climbs up over a rock, coming back with what's clearly a handmade fishing pole. "My old rod didn't get flushed out to sea!"

"Oh!" Phil laughs, surprised. "How did I not see that?"

"It looks like a stick, because it's just a stick?" Wilbur shrugs. "It was also underneath a bunch of rocks."

"But it was right there! Oh, I'm an idiot," Phil chuckles.

"Nah, you're just an old man!"

"Oi! I'm not that old!" Phil squawks.

"Really? You look old!"

"I'm not!" Phil complains, throwing his hands in the air. "Why does everyone say I'm old?! I don't look that bad, do I?"

"I mean, you don't look like a geezer, but normally pirates are either much younger or much dead-er," Wilbur shrugs.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Phil groans, before looking up with a realization. "Wait, how did you know I was a pirate?"

Wilbur points at Phil's hat and jacket hanging on the tree branches.

Phil turns and opens his mouth, then closes it. "You know what, that one's fair."

"Uh-huh," Wilbur snorts. "Plus, who else would end up here and not die?"

"Oh, I don't know," Phil chuckles. "You, I guess? Unless you're a pirate, too."

"I'm just visiting, remember?" Wilbur winks.

"Oh, shut."

"Mmmm, nah!"

Phil rolls his eyes. "Fine, whatever. Keep your secrets."

"I will! That's why they're secrets," Wilbur bubbles.

Phil chuckles, and then yawns. The night has gotten later than he expected, chatting with Wilbur.

"Go to bed old man. I should go see if my old camp things are still around anyway," Wilbur says, starting to feel the tingling in his legs that tells him the magic is almost up.

"Oh, fuck off," Phil complains good-naturedly, but he gives a wave. "Will you be okay by yourself at night?"

"Yup! Don't you worry about me, old man!" Wilbur laughs, bouncing off into the wooded area to hide and slink between the rocks. "Goodnight!"

"Goodnight," Phil bids, unable to help the already fond smile on his face. What can he say, the bit of human interaction after a week of isolation gave him hope.

Wilbur swims off, his ruby tail having reformed the moment he touched water, and goes straight to home, holding the necklace out and shoving it up at Techno's face.

"More, please!"

Techno winces at the yell and stares down at Wilbur from where he is pulled half out of the water, reading one of their few human books. "What?"

"More leg please," Wilbur repeats. "It ran out."

"Why do you need more?" Techno asks, though he holds a hand out for the necklace anyway. They both know he doesn't actually have the heart to keep Wilbur off of land unless he has a very good reason.

"Because I wanna keep talking with Phil," Wilbur admits.

"Phil?"

"The human," Wilbur clarifies.

Techno frowns, hand closing on the emerald pendant Wilbur dropped into his palm. "The human?" He repeats. "Wilbur, you know better."

"He's gonna die eventually," Wilbur defends.

"Humans are dangerous, Wilbur."

"I mean this one is all on his own on our island. What is he gonna do? Yell at me?"

"You know why I don't like humans, Wilbur," Techno hisses, grip tight on the necklace in his hand as his pupils narrow into stressed slits.

"I have three rows of teeth, I'll be fine," Wilbur reminds, putting a hand on Techno's shoulder. "my entire body is literally designed to kill sentient beings."

Techno huffs, turning his face away. "I don't get what you see in them," he mutters quietly.

"They're fun," Wilbur replies. "They're all so different. All the other mersi are just the same, I get bored."

"They're unpredictable."

"Exactly!"

"...I'll charge it up by tomorrow," Techno says softly, sighing.

"Thank you!" Wilbur chirps. "I'll make sure to hunt for your favorite tonight."

"You're lucky I love you," Techno mutters.

"Love you toooo," Wilbur grins, swimming back for a quick hug.

Techno sighs and leans into it slightly. "I don't want to lose you," he admits.

Wilbur moves to hold Techno firmly, protective. "It'll take a lot to get rid of me."

"Stay?" Techno whispers, electric blue tail flicking nervously.

"Alright," Wilbur agrees. "I'll stay."

"Thank you."

Phil wakes to the usual sound of waves against the shore, opening his eyes slowly. He almost wonders if the man from the other day, Wilbur, was a mere fragment of his deteriorating mind.

That wouldn't be great. He didn't think he was that far gone yet. 

Eh, whatever. If it's an issue, he can deal with that... later. Sure. Right now, he needs to focus on a sustainable food source and some more shelter than a dip in the ground in case that storm on the horizon gets any closer.

"PHIIIILLLLL!!!"

Oh, lovely! Turns out Wilbur was real. And very loud.

"Wilbur?" Phil calls back, gathering his bowl and basic tools. He really needs to get some sort of bag or something to carry stuff in. Being able to move only what his hands can hold is getting annoying.

Wilbur bounces over, holding out some fish. "You mentioned food troubles."

"Aww, thanks mate," Phil smiles. "You really didn't have to, but thank you. Do you want to eat breakfast together?"

"I'd love to!" Wilbur chirps.

Phil chuckles at the enthusiasm. "Just let me get a fire going, and we can start cooking them," he replies, turning to the makeshift fire pit in his little clearing.

"Cooking them...?" Wilbur asks, confused.

"Yeah?"

"Why would you cook them?"

Phil stares at Wilbur in shock for a long moment. "...Mate, are you telling me that you've been eating them raw?"

"Usually! It's faster," Wilbur defends.

Phil sinks his head into his hands. "I— No."

Wilbur tilts his head to the side like a confused puppy.

"Look, just— give them here," Phil groans, grabbing the fish from Wilbur and working on making a fire. "First off, fish can make you sick if you eat them raw. Cooking them gets rid of the bacteria and shit. And second, it just tastes a whole lot better."

Wilbur follows, watching as Phil lights a fire. "Ooooh, pretty!" He says, reaching out to grab it.

"No!" Phil chastises, grabbing Wilbur's hand. "Fuck, how old are you, five?"

"It looks soft!" Wilbur complains.

"Have you really never seen fire before?" Phil asks. "It's hot, it'll burn you."

"Why would I have seen fire?"

"I— Why wouldn't you have seen fire?"

"It's not exactly common," Wilbur whines.

"Yes? It is? Where are you from, mate?" Phil asks, sticking the fish onto makeshift skewers and putting them over the fire.

"I told you! An island a day's swim from here."

"And you don't have fire?"

"No?"

"What the fuck, mate."

"I didn't know you could just create it! I thought you had to find it and bring it back to wherever you wanted it to be!"

"Fire is part of what makes us human, I can't imagine..." Phil sighs, nudging Wilbur's shoulder supportively. "Don't worry, I'll teach you how to make fire, and any other random stuff your backwards little island didn't have."

"Okay?" Wilbur hums, clearly not having expected this.

Phil smiles and starts gathering a small pile of leaves and sticks. "So basically, you need something to light on fire, and something to do the lighting. If the stuff you're trying to light on fire is damp, it'll be harder, because water puts out fire. There are a few different ways to make fire, and a lot more if we had actual technology out here, but this is what I've got for now," Phil explains, showing Wilbur a broken off bit of rusted iron and a piece of flint he's collected from walking along the shore and looking around.

"Oh! Shiny thing!" Wilbur chirps. "It makes all the pretty lights when you hit it on things!"

"You mean like this?" Phil asks, striking them together in the air and making sparks fly.

"Yeah! Those!" Wilbur giggles.

"Those are sparks. They're like very tiny fires."

"Ooooo!"

"And so," Phil smiles, lowering the makeshift flint and steel to the pile of leaves, "we can use those tiny fires to make big fires." He strikes them together a few times, and then the sparks catch the dried leaves and make a short, very small fire.

Wilbur gasps happily, trying to grab the fire again.

Unfortunately, it had burned out in a flash, and he only gets a handful of hot leaf dust.

Wilbur turns big pouty eyes up at Phil. "Why did the fire not work?"

Phil laughs good-naturedly. "Aww, mate. It worked, it just burned up the leaves, see? Leaves are so thin that they don't last for very long."

"But now it's not pretty anymore."

"The other fire's still going," Phil placates, patting Wilbur on the shoulder.

"Oh, right!" Wilbur remembers, turning around to grab that one.

"Wil," Phil chuckles, but letting him learn his lesson. Clearly he's not going to stop wanting to grab it otherwise.

Wilbur grabs the fire and yelps. "Hot!"

"Yes, hot things are hot."

"That's mean."

Phil rolls his eyes. "I mean, I did warn you."

Wilbur pouts, crossing his arms. "I don't like fire, why do I have to give my fish to the fire now?"

"I promise, it makes them taste a whole lot better," Phil explains, turning the fish over on the fire. "Would be even better if I had salt, but I'm a bit stuck on an abandoned island."

"There's salt in the water?" Wilbur reminds. "We can just rinse the fish off and let it stay wet?"

Phil wrinkles his nose. "Yeah, but the crispiness is half the point," he retorts. 

"No no no, no we wash it before cooking it," Wilbur alters. "We put the wet fish over the fire instead of drying it off first like I've seen some humans do."

"Oh." Phil frowns, thinking. "I guess... We can try that next time." He pulls the fish off the fire. "I think these are about done, though. Careful, they're hot."

Wilbur ignores this, and shoves the fish into his mouth, bones and all. He crunches down and nods. "It's tasty!"

Phil stares at him blankly for a long second, regretting all of his decisions in life that brought him to this moment. "Uh."

"I like the skin being all crispy, just like you said," Wilbur nods.

"...Right. I'm... glad you like it."

Wilbur finishes up the rest of the fish after a few more minutes. "Thank you for cooking it for me."

Phil nods slowly. "Of course, mate," he assures, blowing on the fish and nibbling on it carefully.

Wilbur bounces back and forth for a while, entertaining himself while Phil eats.

Phil picks the fish as clean as he can, not eating the bones like Wilbur did, before setting it aside and stretching. "Hmm... Alright. Good morning, world."

"Fish make for a good breakfast. I guess I might try and cook them when I've got extra time to be fancy," Wilbur decides. "I should make Techno try a cooked fish."

"Techno?"

"My brother," Wilbur clarifies.

"Ah. Well... Yes, I recommend it," Phil replies.

"I mean, there's still nothing wrong with the raw fish."

"It could make you sick."

"This is the first time I've ever eaten a cooked anything, and I've never gotten sick from food. I don't think."

Phil's expression wrinkles as he considers the implications of a life without cooking. "Maybe you have a really good immune system, then," he offers weakly.

"I guess I'm just built different," Wilbur agrees.

"Sure, mate," Phil sighs.

"You should try raw food now that I tried cooked food," Wilbur says.

"I... No thanks."

"Why not?" Wilbur whines.

"I just don't like it as much. And I really can't risk getting sick out here by myself."

"But you're not by yourself, I'm here," Wilbur chirps.

"For now."

"I mean, you'll die one day anyway, might as well die doing something fun."

"I can't die out here," Phil retorts, tone firm and determined. "If you're here to just tempt me into offing myself, I'd really rather you fuck off."

"That's not my goal—" Wilbur argues, finding an odd sense of offense at the concept that he'd be murdering someone he had told Techno he was going to murder. "Just that most people who end up out here don't have anything to live for."

"Well I do, and I'm going to be getting off this island," Phil insists.

"What do you have off the island that you care so much about?"

Phil sighs. "My son."

"Your son?"

"Yes," Phil says, grabbing his tools and turning away. Clearly ending the conversation.

"Is he golden-haired like you?" Wilbur asks shyly.

"...Blonde? Yes."

"Okay," Wilbur nods, already thinking up a plan.

Phil frowns at Wilbur. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing! Nothing..." Wilbur hums.

"...Uh-huh."

"Where exactly would I find him, if I were to go looking?"

Phil frowns. "...I don't know," he admits. "He was on my ship, but... that could be anywhere by now."

"Pirate ship, recently kicked off presumably the captain," Wilbur lists.

"...Yeah."

"Good to know, good to know," Wilbur nods, walking off towards the water.

"Uh. Okay?"

"See you tomorrow!" Wilbur announces as he hops over a rock and vanishes, swimming home. 

Phil blinks slowly, rubbing his eyes. What? Huh?

Wilbur is weird.

"Techno! I want more gold and I think I know where to find it!"

Techno sighs, aggrieved, as he's lounging in a spot of sunny water and braiding pink locks into an intricate style. "Wilbur..." 

"So Phil, he has this son— and get this, he also has golden hair. And Phil refuses to die because his son is out there somewhere, so I'm thinking we just, you know, go find the golden-haired mini-Phil and all our problems will be solved!" Wilbur explains.

Techno deadpans at Wilbur, clearly unimpressed. "So let me get this straight," he says. "You want to get another human. To deal with the human. Which you dragged onto our island in the first place."

"Yes."

Techno sighs again. "Why can't we just leave them alone? We were doing just fine out here by ourselves."

"I like Phil," Wilbur mutters. "He made sure I ate, and he cooked the fish for me. He offered me food the first day, too." 

"That's..." Techno sighs. He knows just as well as Wilbur how kind it is to share food out here on the open sea. "It's because he thinks you're a human, Wilbur," Techno explains quietly.

"So?" Wilbur replies, just as quiet. "He doesn't need to know..."

"He'll find out eventually," Techno murmurs. "The necklace only lasts so long. And when he does... You know what humans are like."

"But that's then. Why can't I have something nice now?"

Techno frowns. "We're not getting the pup," he states.

"Why not?"

"It's too dangerous. I am drawing this line in the sand, Wilbur," Techno insists, firm. "You can have your human to play with, but we're not getting another."

"But he's—" Wilbur tries again.

Techno growls, and cuts Wilbur off with a sharp click from the back of his throat. Warning.

Wilbur flinches back, giving in. "Okay. I won't go looking for the pup."

"Good. Thank you," Techno says, reaching out to grab Wilbur by the hand and press their foreheads together with a soft whistle. Reassurance-safe-thanks. "It's my job to make sure you're safe, Wil. I'm trying to let you have the most of both worlds." 

"I know, I'm just... I miss having a pod," Wilbur admits weakly. "One that's more than just us."

"I know," Techno replies softly. "I'm sorry..."

Wilbur shrugs. "It's not your fault. You didn't scare them away."

"It's not your fault either, Wilbur," Techno murmurs.

Wilbur laughs, a sound full of hatred. "I'm a mer, and I'm not even a good one. I don't have any of the good parts of the mermaids, not the feminine grace or poise, I just have the parts designed to kill."

"Wilbur," Techno admonishes. "That doesn't mean you're not a good mersi, or even a good person. It's not your fault."

"It's hard to believe that sometimes. Maybe if I'd been a girl things would have been better, I could have been the kind of mersi who has a pod and doesn't try to make friends with the stranded pirate," Wilbur mumbles. "I know you love me, and I never want you to leave me, but fuck, Techno. I'm lonely." 

Techno sighs and pulls Wilbur into a hug. "...You're an extrovert," he mutters. "I'm not, and I'm... sorry that I can't really understand that. If you want to make friends with the pirate, fine. I just want you to be safe."

"I will, I'll be safe," Wilbur promises. "I just want to make friends again."

"Okay," Techno says. "You're my brother, Wilbur. I love you."

"I love you too," Wilbur smiles. "Speaking of you loving me....." He holds out the necklace.

Techno rolls his eyes. "You only ever use me for my magic," he jokes, taking the necklace.

"Well we both know I was the one who was meant to have it in the first place anyway," Wilbur replies.

Techno sighs lightheartedly. "Yeah, yeah. Give me the afternoon, I'll charge it up."

"Thank you!" Wilbur grins, hugging Techno again.

Techno accepts the hug and pats Wilbur on the back twice. "Alright, alright. Now unless you want me to have you polishing my swords, get out of here. Go hunt or something, you big scary predator."

"Fiiine, I'll go get food," Wilbur drawls, swimming off.

When Wilbur comes back, he finds the necklace hanging off of one of the leafless underwater trees at the entrance to their cove. The emerald is glittering with condensed power and Wilbur can tell that Techno's filled it up all the way to be able to sustain a human form for a whole 8 hours, rather than the halfway he usually fills it to conserve energy.

Wilbur can't help but coo happily, knowing that in and of itself is a show of Techno's support of Wilbur looking for friends. He swims out from the home to seek Techno out to thank him when he starts to hear singing.

At first, he thinks that it's just Techno doing a bit of recreational singing. It's rare, and Wilbur certainly wouldn't expect it after the energy sink that filling up the necklace must have been, but maybe his twin was just in the mood. 

Then he realizes that the sound is coming from the direction of the island Phil's on. And then he consciously realizes something his mersi instincts already knew: that's a song of beckoning.

Wilbur doesn't hesitate to dart towards the sound, claws exposed and fangs bared as he turns to see the fight in its fullest.

Phil, dazed, walking towards the sea. Techno, singing, calling him towards his death.

"TECHNO!" Wilbur screeches, lunging.

Techno yelps as Wilbur crashes into him, song getting cut off as he tumbles backwards through the water. "Wil—!"

"How dare you!" Wilbur screams, moving to try and use his longer, stronger tail to constrict around Techno's to trap him in place. "You acted like you cared! Like you approved!"

Techno pushes back, trying to wiggle out of Wilbur's grasp, but doesn't actually fight back. "It's not what you— Wilbur! Wait!"

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU!" Wilbur screams again, tightening around Techno and digging his claws into his brother's shoulders. "You lied to me!"

"I didn't—" Techno chirps sharply in alarm as the pain from Wilbur's claws registers in his shoulders. "Wilbur!" He yells with a twist of magic, trying to pull his brother out of his bloodlust.

Wilbur screeches, an old, primal, sound. The sound of a predator, but his claws release Techno's shoulders nonetheless.

Techno pulls back and clutches at his bleeding shoulder—bright, glowing blue blood—as he stares at Wilbur above the waves. "Wilbur, you don't have the full story," he begs. "Let me—" he breaks off his words as his gaze flickers over to the human on the shore, pupils thinning in fright as his eyes meet Phil's. "Let's go home," he pleads. "I promise, I'll explain, let's just go home."

Wilbur turns and sees Phil, staring, and he panics. He grabs Techno's hand and drags them to their underwater home.

Techno lets Wilbur drag him all the way, the mer having a stronger tail and knowing he's still on thin ice. He doesn't make a sound of protest, even when Wilbur practically shoves them into their hidden cove.

"What the hell were you doing?" Wilbur growls, golden eyes practically flashing with his anger.

"There was— another siren," Techno gasps, hurrying to explain. "I felt them on the edge of our territory, so I went to check it out."

"So what?" Wilbur snaps, demanding more.

"They were singing!" Techno snaps back.

"So? Your song wouldn't affect them!"

"They had Phil!" Techno snaps. "The only way I could think to stop it before he got to the water was to overpower theirs with mine! I was just gonna knock him out and put him back on the beach where you left him in the first place while I dealt with the other siren!"

"They—" Wilbur whispers. "And now Phil— fuck."

"I'm sorry," Techno whispers. "I— I didn't know what to..."

"And since I showed up you didn't finish the job, either," Wilbur growls.

"I can go and deal with the siren," Techno offers quietly. "If you want to go fix things with the human... with Phil?"

"No," Wilbur denies, shaking his head. "I'm handling it personally."

"We'll both go, then."

"You should bandage your wounds," Wilbur says.

"The saltwater has stopped the bleeding," Techno retorts, eyes flashing. "And the siren is my challenger."

"And a siren is my prey," Wilbur snaps. "But if you insist."

"I do."

"I'm going to kill them," Wilbur says simply.

"Good," Techno hisses.

"I'm going to eat them," Wilbur reminds. "I'm going to eat one of your kind."

"I know what happens to challengers," Techno snaps, flicking Wilbur with his tail in annoyance. "I'm not soft."

"Good," Wilbur nods, swimming out.

Techno follows with a flick of his tail, swimming in Wilbur's wake.

Wilbur swims quick, and Techno only manages to keep up due to years of trying to match pace.

"Wil," Techno calls. "We don't want to scare them off."

"I want them dead," Wilbur argues.

"Which means we need to catch them," Techno rebuffs right back.

"Fine," Wilbur grumbles. "Lead the way."

Techno takes the place in the lead and sends out a magic-infused hum, searching out the position of the other siren. "They've left our territory," he reports, but turns and begins leading them at a different angle.

"Don't care, they're being punished," Wilbur grumbles under his breath, following quickly.

Wilbur notices the tips of Techno's hair beginning to glow blue as he searches, before Techno darts into the shadows of a rock reef and points forward. "Just over that ridge."

Wilbur darts off, disappearing over the ridge. There's nothing, for a second, before there's a crunch and a scream that cuts off half-way through. 

Red floats through the water.

Techno sighs and crosses his arms on the rocks as he waits for Wilbur to come back. Traditionally, sirens are meant to challenge each other, and feast on their conquest as some sort of old cultural dominance thing. Unfortunately, he lost the taste for blood years ago.

Maybe at the same time the color of his blood no longer matched his brother's.

Wilbur comes back with a corpse in his teeth, thoroughly marred by deep slashes from distinctly mer claws. "We should try to cook it, like Phil says! He thinks cooked food tastes better."

"Cooked?" Techno repeats, flicking his tail.

"Yeah! With fire!"

Techno frowns. "Where are we going to get fire?"

"From Phi— oh..."

Techno tilts his head, blue eyes watching Wilbur's expression shift curiously. "Oh?"

"He saw me," Wilbur mumbles. "He knows now."

"Oh," Techno mumbles. "Well... Maybe he didn't see? He was still kind of under the song." 

"Maybe," Wilbur sighs.

"...I'm sorry," Techno mutters.

"No, I'm the one who fucked up," Wilbur groans, running his hand through his hair. "I'm gonna just go on a swim."

"Wilbur..."

"I won't be long, I just need to clear my head."

"Okay," Techno murmurs, reaching out to squeeze Wilbur's hand. "Be safe."

Techno is left alone with the sound of the waves overhead, gently crashing up against the small rocks that barely peak above the surface. He stays inside, for a while, wanting to take some time to get his own head on straight about what all had happened.

Another siren had tried to enchant Phil, to drown him. Techno had no reason to stop them— it wouldn't have been his fault that Phil was dead, and Wilbur would stop straying so close to the danger a human posed. But he stepped in.

He'd been watching, sometimes. Not all of the time, but every now and then to make sure Phil wasn't hurting Wilbur, and the man genuinely seemed nice. Wilbur always looked so much happier with his borrowed legs and his cooked food, chatting until the magic was waning and Wilbur had to return to the sea where he belonged.

His brother looked so happy. Techno couldn't let that be taken away when he could do something, so he sang. It got him new scabs, possibly scars, on his shoulders, but it saved Wilbur's smile. Almost.

Phil had nearly drowned that day.

The sea had been calling, and like a fool he went to answer. He should have known it was not the sea herself who sung songs like that, who sung songs which were melodied by the begging of his son for help. He knew better. 

Phil had heard sirens before. Most of the time he knew better, he could hear their words beckoning him to join them for sins of the flesh, and yet he was smarter, stronger. He knew to plug his ears and ignore the song before the magic overpowered him. He was lucky, he supposed, that the promises of a maiden never pulled him as harshly as it did most of his men.

But yet, at the same time, there was another song the sirens sometimes sang, and that song... He'd hear his boy, his Tommy, crying for help. And Tommy could be standing right next to him, but that song always ensnared him. It was a lie, it always was, his son was smart and stayed far from the waters when the sirens sang, but what if it wasn't? What if, just this once, his boy was out there. He would not be able to live if he had abandoned his son. 

He had been tired and hungry when he heard the first song. Maybe that is why he fell so easily to a song offering him a lass. But the second song he heard— it was Tommy, for sure, but it was not his pain. He could hear Tommy laughing across the waves, and his body turned, easily pulled by the sound. 

It had been disorienting to wake up so suddenly, ankle-deep in the tide pools where Wilbur always ran off to, only to see a flash of fluffy brown hair tussling with the siren who had saved his life. What else could that have been? The one with the longer hair, the softer face, that siren had sung and taken him away from one who wished him dead, and Phil knew this. 

Wilbur, it seemed, did not. But a human would not beat a siren in a fight, it was why jumping overboard was a death sentence after being ensnared by their call. He was worried for the boy he almost called a second son. Until he saw a flash of red. 

Wilbur had a pair of legs every time the man saw him, but Phil had heard stories of magic letting the beings of the deep walk amongst those on land. The red tail was too strong, too long, to just be another siren.

Wilbur was a mer. 

Mer were scary. They had no magic yet they claimed just as many lives, able to rip a board from a ship clean off with their claws and sink the vessel entirely. He should be scared, terrified. But this was Wilbur. 

Phil can't help but call out. 

"Wilbur?!"

There is no response from the waves, no matter how loud he calls or how far he searches. It could be that Wilbur is just wherever he calls home for the moment... but his anxiety can't help but whisper in his ear.

He had definitely made eye contact with the siren Wilbur fought, the one that helped him. The thought dances through the back of the mind that Wilbur might know Phil knows his secret... that he will be too scared to ever return to land again.

Phil's heart aches terribly at the thought of never seeing the young man again.

The island isn't too large, and Wilbur clearly was lying when he said he lived far away. He likely lives in these very waters. So maybe, if he looks, he can find Wilbur again. 

He's focused on his task while walking, but maybe a little too focused, because the roots from the trees hook onto his foot, and he goes falling down into one of the many pits in the island, dropping him into deep waters.

Phil knows how to swim, he's always known, but it's hard to use that knowledge once you've hit your head on a rock and your head begins to spin. When up becomes down and left becomes right and the burning in your chest is from your lungs demanding air rather than your heart demanding your son.

There's a moment of cold, quiet peace.

And then there's warm arms curling around him, dragging him up to the surface where he gasps desperately for air. It's all he can do for a couple seconds to cough and choke in that fresh, beautiful air, barely even registering the strong form holding him up.

Until a dry, strangely melodic voice speaks from right behind him. "Bruh, you sure are high maintenance. I thought humans were supposed to be persistent to live, not to drown."

Phil knows that voice.

"You're—" He tries, before sending himself into another round of coughing.

"Hey— Hey, easy," the siren says, patting awkwardly at his back to try and help. Now that Phil is a bit more aware, he can definitely feel the scales of a strong tail brushing against his legs as it keeps the both of them afloat with little effort.

"You're the siren," Phil accuses. "You sang the— the song with my son's laughter to keep me alive."

"Aha," comes the nervous, stilted laugh in reply. "Is that what you heard?"

"I usually hear his cries," Phil admits. "But it was his laughing this time. I don't think you mean to hurt me."

"Well," the siren points out. "I did just stop you from drownin'. For like, the third time. You really gotta stop this habit, man, it's kinda cringe."

"The first one wasn't my fault," Phil argues.

"Right, right. Well, uh..." the siren hums, and even just that little sound is melodic, packed with latent magic. "Am I gonna keep talkin' to the back of your head? I mean, I can if you want, you don't have to—"

"Oh!" Phil stutters, turning. "Wait— you know Wilbur, don't you?"

The siren lets go of Phil as he turns, although he keeps a keen eye on Phil's arms and legs as though making sure he's going to actually be able to support himself in the water, or just start drowning again. And at first appearances, he really could not look more different than Wilbur, with long, straight pink hair, bright blue eyes, and a blue tail to match. There are scales dotted across the siren's face and shoulders, and two strange fin-like appendages in place of ears. 

"You... could say that," the siren replies slowly. "Why?" 

"Where is he?" Phil asks. "I want to make sure he knows I saw— and that I don't care."

The siren narrows his eyes, pupils thinning like a cat's as he thinks—and oh, that's a really funny visual—but responds slowly. "Why?" He repeats.

"I— Well it's a little awkward to admit when he isn't here but I practically started seeing him like a son," Phil says, hiding his embarrassment with a laugh. "I don't want him to think I don't accept him for who he is."

The other's ear-fin flicks in some emotion that Phil is not familiar enough with him to even guess. "You're... But you're human."

"And he's still the silly man with fluffy hair who eats the bones of the fish, that didn't change."

"But you're human," the siren snaps. "Humans don't like things like us. We're dangerous."

"Then why did you save me?" Phil retorts easily.

He frowns, tail flicking and moving the water around them. "Wilbur would have been sad."

"So why should I dislike him, then? Even if he can hurt me, he hasn't, and clearly won't."

The siren huffs, maybe annoyed? And then reaches out and grabs onto Phil's wrist with a vice grip.

Phil looks down at the grip, face carefully expressionless. "Yes?" 

"I would take a breath," he recommends, not very gently, before pulling Phil straight down into the deep lake he had fallen into.

Phil barely keeps himself from yelping out the air he'd gathered before he's submerged.

He catches the siren glancing at him out of the corner of his eye to make sure Phil actually took the breath he was supposed to, confirming that this probably isn't a ploy to drown him, and pulls him along quickly through the water. It's honestly astonishing, watching just how strong the siren is as he cuts through the water like it's nothing.

But his breath isn't that good, and he's not made to survive under the waves like the being holding onto him is. It seems like all too soon that his lungs start to burn, and the light of the surface only gets further away.

Phil taps at his throat desperately, trying to communicate.

The siren glances over as Phil wriggles in his grasp and, seemingly realizing what's being said, grabs Phil closer to his chest and puts on a burst of speed as he ducks into a tunnel through the rocks barely wide enough to fit them on the side of the lake's walls. 

Everything goes very dark and silent as they go through the tunnel, and it terrifies Phil for a second.

Then they breach the surface of the water again, Phil gasping for precious air. 

"Fuck!" Phil coughs. "I'm not built for that!"

"I did warn you," the siren says dryly, pulling Phil over to where he can actually touch sand. 

When he looks up from his coughing fit, he's met with the sigh of a huge underwater cave, filled with loads of shiny trinkets and a ton of stuff that has no doubt been scavenged from seawrecks on the ocean floor. On the small beach he's been placed is a collection of what seem to be more human or delicate items, such as books or clothes, which can't be stored underwater.

"Woah," Phil exhales. "Is this where you live?"

"Sometimes," the siren shrugs. "Usually. The whole island is our territory."

"Surprised you've let me stay... Which, by the way— I don't think I caught your name? If I'm going to be a guest it's only polite for me to have something to call you by," Phil points out.

The siren blinks in surprise, and... is that embarrassment? "Ah. Right. I'm Technoblade."

"Wait, you're Techno?!"

"...Yes?"

"You're Wilbur's brother! He never shuts up about you," Phil laughs. "He kept saying he was going to worry you so much that you'd pay him as much attention as he could ever want once he went home."

Techno flicks his tail, making water splash a bit. "Well, he did worry me."

"Seems he succeeded in that one, then," Phil snorts.

"We know each other well. Too well."

"Well, you're brothers, aren't you?" Phil shrugs. "Brothers tend to do that."

"Yeah..." Techno mutters. "Sometimes it seems like we're all too different these days."

"Again, sounds like brothers," Phil repeats.

Techno rolls his eyes. "Whatever, old man."

"I'm not even that old! I'm only thirty four!" Phil complains.

"Isn't that like, ancient in human years?" Techno drawls, and Phil cannot for the life of him tell if he's joking or not. "I really oughta just eat you now."

"Please do not do that," Phil replies.

"Ehhhh."

Their conversation is cut off by the faint sound of splashing water as the wave pattern changes, and Techno turns to look into the water with a strange click-whistle combo, probably a greeting of some sort.

Phil turns to look at the water, and only a few minutes later a familiar face pops up over the surface.

They meet eyes instantly.

"Uhhhhhhh..." Wilbur blinks, turning between Phil, and Techno, and back to Phil.

Techno flicks his tail idly, splashing Wilbur with a spray of droplets. "Hallooo."

"Why is he here? What did you do, Techno?" Wilbur asks, not sure if he should be angry, confused, or worried.

"You really gotta stop losin' your human. He has an affinity for drowning," Techno drawls.

Phil chuckles nervously. "Don't worry, Wilbur. Techno just helped me out," he assures, choosing to leave out the part where Techno then kind of tried to drown him again. 

"But you— you're a human," Wilbur says. "And you know."

"That you're a mer?" Phil asks softly. "Yeah, that's kind of obvious at this point."

"And you aren't trying to run— or kill me?"

"I would kill him first," Techno claims. 

"Techno!" Wilbur exclaims, clearly upset. "Don't kill him!"

"He's just trying to protect you," Phil assures. "But it's unnecessary, because I'm not going to try and kill you. Or hurt you, or run away, or anything like that. Actually, I was looking for you to try and let you know that I don't care."

"What?" Wilbur whispers, looking up at Phil through his wet hair.

"It doesn't bother me, I mean," Phil clarifies. "I don't think any differently of you."

"You don't care that I lied to you?"

"Not really, no," Phil shrugs. "It's not like you know all the details of my life, either. I get wanting to keep some things a secret."

"Oh."

Phil smiles in what he hopes is reassurance. "I... I actually had something I wanted to give to you."

"You wanted to give something to me?" Wilbur asks.

"Yeah," Phil replies. "I don't know much about... your culture, to be honest, but I've heard a lot of stories of merfolk liking shiny things. And, well, I am on a deserted island, so there's not many options, but I wanted you to have this." He reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out a small box, one that on the outside has clearly seen better days.

"Oh?" Wilbur blinks, reaching out for the box.

When he opens it, his pupils widen involuntarily at the immediate glint of gold. There are only a couple pieces of jewelry inside, some sort of pins with what look to be a moon decal attached to one and a row of stars attached to the other.

"Gold," Wilbur exhales, some happy clicking sounds bubbling up from deep in his throat. Techno chirps curiously, swimming over to peek over Wilbur's shoulder at the word.

"They're hair clips," Phil explains. "I don't know if they're exactly your style, but it's all I had on me when I went overboard. I wanted to make sure you knew that I accept you and care about you no matter what form you take." 

Wilbur coos, showing off the pretty clips to Techno. "Can you put them on me?"

Techno looks down at the gold, pupils wide like Wilbur's but nods and grabs them out of the box to affix into Wilbur's unruly curls.

Wilbur chirps as they're put in, taking a little victory lap of the pool of water they're in before looking back up at Phil happily. "Now I have gold hair like you!"

Phil laughs happily, reaching out and patting Wilbur on the head. "You sure do!"

Wilbur coos and leans into the touch. Phil's smile softens at the motion, brushing his fingers through Wilbur's wet hair gently. Wilbur begins to make some facsimile of a purr as Phil does.

Until the both of them get hit with a spray of water from Techno's tail, even as his brother is the picture of boredom, pretending he didn't do anything. Phil just laughs.

Wilbur makes an array of annoyed sounds towards Techno, though there's clearly no real bite to his noises. Just petulance.

Techno clicks at him in return, just as petulant.

Wilbur crosses his arms and awkwardly pushes himself up to sit on the ledge, leaning against Phil's side and sticking out his tongue at his brother.

Phil laughs and puts an arm around Wilbur's shoulder, ignoring the wetness. He's already soaked, anyway, it's not like it makes much of a difference at this point. Techno sinks into the water until only his eyes are visible, clearly pouting.

Wilbur chirps, looking over at Phil's other side then back at Techno.

Techno gives a series of two annoyed chirps right back. Their language is fascinating to Phil, almost as much as the fact that they also speak English most of the time, it seems.

Wilbur chirps again, more insistently, then a sound that's clearly taunting.

Techno makes a face as Wilbur's sound, then swims forward and, in an instant, grabs Wilbur's tail and yanks him down.

Wilbur yelps, and playfully bites Techno's shoulder.

"Uhh—" Phil stutters, unsure whether he needs to (or even could) break them up, but Techno nips at Wilbur's arm in retaliation, so it's probably fine?

Wilbur grabs Techno's arm and drags him towards the shore again. "Up!"

Techno whines in petulant denial, but Wilbur drags him over anyway.

Phil gives the both of them an amused smile. "Hi, mate." 

Wilbur grins and sits back at Phil's side. "We're part of a package deal. Techno's a little crunchy, but I think you'll warm up to him."

"That's okay. And Techno, if you're not comfortable with me yet, I'm not going to hold that against you. Go at your own pace," Phil assures. Techno huffs and hides in Wilbur's side.

Wilbur wraps his tail around Techno's like a little hug. "Crunchy brother and golden dad," He says, not thinking about his words.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Wil," Phil laughs.

"That's how I got Techno to let me keep you," Wilbur explains, grabbing a bit of Phil's hair. "Cause you're gold."

"Ow, ow," Phil winces, pulling Wilbur's hand off gently. "I take it the stories about merfolk liking shiny things are true, then?"

Techno sniffs, annoyed. "Mersi."

"Mercy?" Phil repeats, confused.

"Mersi, mer and siren. We're different species, but the collective name is mersi, not merfolk," Wilbur explains. "When you humans talk about merfolk, you usually just mean sirens, honestly. You humans probably don't even know that mer eat sirens! Or, well, used to."

"Oh," Phil blinks. "Are you two... adopted isn't the right word, I guess chosen family, then?"

Techno hisses quietly from where he's tucked into Wilbur's side.

"No," Wilbur denies. "We're both half-and-half. I just presented mer, and he presented siren. We both think it should have been the other way, but genetics."

"Is that common?" Phil asks curiously.

"No," Wilbur shakes his head. "The only reason it was even possible was that we were born very early."

"How old are you?" Phil wonders. "Techno said something about humans aging differently, I think."

"68 moons," Techno mumbles, blinking slowly with sleepy eyes. "Dunno how it translates to humans."

"I think humans would put us somewhere as a young adult or older teen," Wilbur guesses, leaning over to pull Techno close to him, obviously preparing for naptime. 

Techno snuggles close with a yawn.

"Moons— Do you mean months?" Phil asks.

"No, we mean moons," Wilbur says. "We count our time based on the full moon."

"Huh," Phil blinks. "I mean, I think months were originally based on the moon cycle— Wait." He stares at Wilbur. "You're like— 5 years old?!"

"No! Well— Not in the way that it matters for you!" Wilbur rushes to explain. "Mersi mature really quickly in comparison to humans! We can swim on our own after just one day and stuff!"

Techno yawns again. "Humans are lame," he mutters.

"Most of them are," Wilbur agrees. "But I like Phil. We're keeping Phil, right, Techie?"

Techno flicks his tail slightly. "He's in shallow water," he mumbles.

"Well he's in water so I'll call that a win," Wilbur grins.

His twin huffs and points to the cove they're on the shore of. "And I wanna be in the water," Techno complains.

"Can you sing the reverse of the spell you use so I can go on land? Then he can borrow my necklace for a night and we can go under," Wilbur suggests.

Techno wrinkles his nose, hiding his face into Wilbur's side petulantly.

"I can't give him breath," Wilbur shrugs. "I'm not siren."

"Dun' want to."

"I don't wanna leave Phil though," Wilbur replies.

Techno huffs. "He's in shallow water, though," he whines.

"For you! He's in the trench for me," Wilbur declares.

"It's okay, mate," Phil assures, stepping in. "I don't want to make Techno uncomfortable. It would be... convenient if one of you could take me back up to the surface, though." He chuckles. "I am kind of stuck here."

"Oh, right—" Wilbur remembers. "I'll bring you back to your camp."

"Thanks," Phil smiles.

Wilbur nods and grabs Phil. "Hold on," He orders, before shooting downwards with a single thrash of his tail. The speed difference is clearly noticeable— Wilbur's tail is longer, stronger. He's built for speed and power over agility, and Phil is only submerged for a minute before they've breached the water back at the tidepools.

Phil still takes a grateful breath of air at the surface, but offers Wilbur a smile. "Thanks, mate," he repeats, looking down at the tunnel. "I can't believe this was here the whole time."

Wilbur chuckles softly. "We're good at hiding."

"Wilbur," Phil says, taking his hand and squeezing it. "Thank you. Seriously. You... You saved my life, didn't you? When I went overboard?"

"...I did," Wilbur confirms. "I brought you to shore. Made up some lie about the sun so you wouldn't open your eyes and see my tail."

"I don't remember," Phil admits. "I was probably pretty out of it. But I'm glad you did... And grateful that I got to meet you again after the fact."

Wilbur shrugs, flushing. "It gets lonely out here."

"You've become very important to me," Phil admits. "Kind of... like a second son."

Wilbur looks up at Phil with big pleady eyes. "You mean it?"

"I— Yeah," Phil admits. "If you're okay with that, I mean— You don't have to—"

Wilbur can't help but tackle Phil into a hug, squeezing him just a bit too tight.

"Ack— Mate—" Phil wheezes, patting the much larger mer on the arm. "Too strong."

Wilbur loosens his grip. "Sorry, don't wanna crush your old man bones."

"I'm not old you little shit!" Phil complains.

"Old! Old man!"

"Oh, fuck off," Phil laughs, patting him on the shoulder and giving him a hug. "Go on then, back to your brother. He seemed very sleepy."

"See you tomorrow?" Wilbur checks as he slowly moves back into the water.

"See you tomorrow," Phil confirms.

The days pass much like the ones before, but this time, Phil knows.

Wilbur will visit and will sit on the rocks, red tail shimmering gold under the sun while they chat. Sometimes he'll fiddle with the emerald necklace he wears and will have legs again, but sometimes he won't.

Techno joins them. He doesn't join often, and he stays a little bit away, but Phil makes sure he's as approachable as possible, and he likes to think he's worming his way into the siren's heart.

Then, one morning, Wilbur doesn't show up. 

He sees a flash of pink out in the water, and waves, calling out. "TECHNO! Have you seen Wilbur today?"

Techno stares at Phil for a second, before disappearing under the water. After a couple awkward seconds, his head pops out of the water much closer, only about ten feet away. "Wilbur? I thought he came up here."

"I haven't seen him all day," Phil denies.

Techno frowns. "At all?"

"Not once."

"That's... suspicious." Techno flicks one of his ear fins, thinking. "I'll swim around, he probably got distracted..."

"He'd normally be here by now," Phil agrees. "I'm a bit worried." 

"I'll search," Techno agrees, swimming off.

He patrols the whole ring of their territory, calling out with searching whistles that carry through the water. As it takes longer and longer, his calls get more frantic, and he even goes a bit further out of their island territory.

Nothing.

Techno is scared now. Wilbur never leaves him like that, not without a warning.

The siren's pink hair pops back up in the water next to Phil, and his expression is clearly upset. "I can't find him," he reports.

"Fuck," Phil swears. "Where could he possibly go?"

"I don't know," Techno frets. "I— I don't know! He knows not to leave without telling me, he did tell me, he said he was coming here!"

"Something's definitely not right," Phil agrees. "I can try to get some high ground to look around?"

"What if something happened? What if humans got him?!"

"That's what I'm going to look for. I'll see if I can see any ships."

"I'll kill them," Techno hisses. 

"I'd probably let you," Phil agrees as he moves more inland to climb up a tree. Far out in the distance, he sees it. 

A ship. A pirate ship.

He rushes down back to the pools. "South-east, almost exactly towards your home. There's a ship."

"A ship?!"

Wilbur was having such a nice day. Waking up nice and slow with his brother right at his side, the two of them brushing out each other's hair gently, then heading out to try and find some nice shells or other undersea gifts for Phil—his dad! —and then prepare for a nice day of sunbathing in the shallow beach water.

And then he was so distracted by looking forward to the day, that he swam right into a net.

And was dragged onto a ship.

Embarrassing, honestly.

Wilbur wiggles around in the net, trying to cut at it with his sharp claws, but it's annoying and terrible, and the people on the ship manage to haul him up and out of the water despite his best efforts. He does get a nice scratch on the side of the boat, though.

"Holy shit!" He hears as he hits the wooden deck roughly. "Holy shit! That's a fuckin' mermaid!"

"Wh— Yeah, obviously, Tubbo! What did you think it was, a huge fucking salmon?!" Another young human snaps back, and Wilbur cracks open his eyes just enough to take in his surroundings, hopefully without the humans noticing his awareness yet.

The first thing he sees is gold hair. Again. 

Wilbur opens his eyes and looks at the young boy.

"He looks like Phil..." He mutters to himself. 

The boy yelps and falls over onto his butt, startled at the sound of Wilbur's voice.

"Hello!" The other boy, who has much more boring brown hair greets, crouching slightly to get a better look at him. "Wow! You're big! And your scales are so pretty!"

"What's your name," Wilbur demands, pointing at the golden-haired one.

"I, uh—" the boy blinks. "Aren't I, like, not supposed to tell you that?" He narrows his eyes. "Are you gonna steal it or some shit?"

The brown-haired boy whacks him on the back of the head. "That's fae, dumbass, not mer!"

"Oh well fuck you—"

"Tommy," says a gentler voice, with just a bare touch of magic resonance that Wilbur immediately recognizes. Wilbur turns and sees another boy—why are they all so young? —taller than the others and sporting an oddly perfect split of white and black hair. "The loud one is Tommy. The other loud one is Tubbo, and I'm Ranboo. Did you get hurt by the net? I'm sorry for the rough treatment."

"Tommy Minecraft?" Wilbur clarifies.

Tommy looks up from his spat with Tubbo. "Yeah, bitch? What about it?"

"You're Phil's son!" Wilbur exclaims, flashing the necklace and changing into his human form, throwing the net off himself. It's awkward, but he manages. "Turn the ship around."

"What?!"

"Your dad, he's on an island back there," Wilbur laughs. "He talks about you all the time. You have the same golden hair that he does."

"MY DAD?!" Tommy yells, grabbing Wilbur's shoulders. "YOU KNOW WHERE HE IS?!?"

"Ow," Ranboo winces, covering his ears.

"Ow, agreed," Wilbur nods, looking at Ranboo. "Yes, I know where he is, he's my dad too now, pipsqueak."

"OI!" Tommy yells again, not changing his volume. "You can't steal my dad, fuckface! Prick! Bitch!"

"Well if you don't turn this ship around I'll just jump back in the water and swim home myself and you won't get to steal him back!" Wilbur declares.

Tommy huffs angrily. "Fuck you!" He yells, but runs to turn the boat around.

"Sorry, he's an idiot," Tubbo supplies helpfully. Ranboo approaches from the side and silently holds out a brown jacket for Wilbur to keep himself dry with now that he's human.

Wilbur takes the jacket politely. "So, you're siren, right?"

"...It's complicated."

"I can hear it in your voice."

"Careful, Tommy's not a careful driver," Ranboo warns, stepping to the side as the boat is harshly turned and a wave splashes over the side to where he was just standing. "I'm... I guess. You could say that."

"Where are you from?" The brown haired one, Tubbo, asks, sliding a chair over and sitting on it backwards. "I thought tropical climates had brighter scales like yours! You know, where there's coral and shit to blend into."

"I was born weird," Wilbur brushes off.

"Like, magic-weird, or genetics-weird?" Tubbo asks, chair threatening to pitch over until he stops it with a foot as Tommy makes another jerk to the wheel. "TOMMY, STOP BEING SHIT!"

"FUCK YOU, TWO-BO!" Tommy yells back. 

Ranboo just sighs. "Sorry about them..." 

"I mean, one of them is Phil's boy, so I'm not surprised," Wilbur shrugs, chuckling. "And to answer your question Tubbo, both. My scales were green when I was born."

"Huh?" Tubbo's eyes widen with curiosity. "How?"

"There's some weird magic out there," Wilbur shrugs. "Technically my tail turned red when I did some magic to save my brother's life. Red like blood, I think it is?"

Tubbo's eyes light up. "We can—!"

But Ranboo reaches out and grabs his wrist, firmly cutting him off. "We are not comparing his scales to blood," he denies firmly.

"Awww."

"I have compared it plenty of times. It's close enough. Turn left a bit— the island over there," Wilbur says towards Tommy, pointing a bit. "You're a captain's son, shouldn't you be a better sailor?" 

"Oh, fuck off," Tommy throws back. It seems 90% of his vocabulary is swears. Honestly not that surprising, knowing his father. "I never really had any fucking reason to learn, but now— I haven't even crashed yet, bitch!"

"Liar," Tubbo sing-songs.

"Fuck you!"

"Yeah, he seems like the kind of kid to crash," Wilbur snorts.

"Sailed right into a dock. Full speed," Ranboo whispers with a small, mischievous smile.

Tubbo laughs. "Yeah! I mean, I know pirates are meant to do crime, but I think it did more property damage to the ship than the town!"

"Hah!" Wilbur snorts. "I'll make sure to tell Phil all about that one."

"NO!" Tommy yelps. "NO TELLING DAD!"

"I AM ABSOLUTELY TELLING DAD!"

"NO!"

Ranboo huffs, once again stepping out of the way of some sea spray as Tommy jerks the wheel in his anger.

Wilbur yelps as the ship turns. "Tommy!"

Tommy flips him off. Very mature.

"What's your name?" Ranboo asks, apparently just ignoring Tommy's antics. He must be very used to them.

"Wilbur," Wilbur answers.

"Wilbur," Ranboo repeats with a soft smile. "That's a nice name."

"Thank you," Wilbur smiles, before he walks over to the deck and screams over the waters. "DAAAAAAAAAD!!!"

It looks like they're still a bit far out, because he gets no response.

A couple minutes later, though, he gets a different type of response. He hears the familiar sound of his brother singing.

His brother. Singing. And Wilbur can easily tell that it's a powerful song.

"Hey, what's that sound...?" Tubbo asks, trailing off and looking toward the ocean, eyes widening and already starting to glaze over. 

"Ah fuck—" Wilbur curses, before chirping as loud as he can. Coming-safe-stop!

Techno ignores him, the song continuing and strengthening as it gets into the rhythm of the "melody." Wilbur knows his brother, and he knows that just as he can fall into bloodlust, Techno can easily be lost to the strength of his magic. If he's singing, then he's seen the ship, and there's no way that he would even try to restrain himself if there are humans involved.

Wilbur hisses under his breath, chucking the jacket and jumping off the edge of the ship. He takes off, swimming as fast as he can towards Techno. When he arrives, he has plenty of speed to throw his body across Techno and shove a hand over Techno's mouth. 

"I'm fine!" He snaps. "Don't drown Phil's son!" 

Techno pulls back from Wilbur and hisses, primal in nature, hair and eyes glowing a bright, bright blue. Even just that sound is still packed with magic, enough to make Wilbur a bit dizzy. 

"Technoblade," Wilbur snaps, shaking his head a bit before pulling Techno into a tight hug. Restraining, but safe.

Techno hisses again, slightly lesser this time, but pushes against Wilbur in an attempt to get out of his grasp.

"Techno, Techno, it's me. It's Wilbur," Wilbur says.

"Wilbur," Techno agrees after a moment, swimming out of his grasp when Wilbur relaxes a bit at the recognition. He grabs Wilbur and pushes him back away from the boat toward the island.

"I'm fine— The captain of that ship is Tommy! Phil's son," Wilbur explains.

Techno growls quietly and pushes Wilbur again with a harsh click in the back of his throat. Home.

"Alright, alright," Wilbur acquiesces, following. He'll explain once Techno isn't feral.

Techno watches intently as Wilbur begins to retreat, then turns around and starts singing again.

"HEY!" Wilbur snaps, turning around and smacking Techno with his tail. Follow. 

Techno turns and snaps at Wilbur with an angry growl. 

Follow-home, Wilbur clicks. "I’m not going home if you don't come with me."

Home! Techno demands. 

Follow! Wilbur demands right back. 

Techno smacks Wilbur with his tail, very frustrated, and then starts singing again anyway.

Wilbur bites at that, hard into Techno's shoulder. He takes his claw and sinks into his side, dragging the siren down underwater. He's so much bigger than Techno, two, almost three feet larger, and it shows when he puts that to use. 

Techno is by no means frail, but he is lithe, agile. Wilbur is brute force strength and speed, and he submerges the two of them deep enough so no sound will reach the surface in a matter of seconds.

His brother screeches and lashes back out at Wilbur, fighting back with impressive strength for a siren. But in a state like this, especially with his magic so volatile, he quickly loses the battle in stamina.

HUMANS! Techno chirps angrily, as though Wilbur were dumb enough to not have realized, as they twist through the deep water. 

FAMILY! Wilbur snaps back. MINE!

BROTHER!

Wilbur growls, deep from his chest as he wraps his much stronger tail around his brother, flaring all three rows of his teeth. All three rows of his teeth, custom tailored by evolution to consume siren flesh.

Techno yelps and flinches back, an instinct that even years with only his brother and the pure magic coursing through his body can't fight against, going limp in Wilbur's grip.

Think, Wilbur clicks, more gentle than before, though he doesn't release his vice grip on Techno. Wake up.

Techno cries out weakly in Wilbur's hold, still stuck in his instincts, but shocked into the scared side instead of the angry side. Protector...

Safe, Wilbur assures. He shifts his grip slightly. Still tight enough so Techno cannot escape, but less restricting and angry.

Techno collapses into Wilbur's chest, crying with half-realized whistles and clicks. Wilbur wraps his arms around Techno in the best hug he can manage. Techno hugs him back, and Wilbur can see the magical blue glow start to fade.

Safe, Wilbur clicks.

Brother, Techno whines.

Brother, Wilbur agrees.

They settle for a few seconds more, before Techno manages to get his words back. "You scared me," he mutters weakly.

"I'm sorry," Wilbur replies. "I was on my way back."

Techno swallows thickly. "What... What happened?"

"Well, I was dumb and got caught in a net," Wilbur begins, but he hurries to keep talking before Techno can fret. "Tommy Minecraft's net."

"Tommy Minecraft...?"

"Phil's son."

"...Oh."

"Tommy and two of his friends. One of them is mersi— ish. It seems complicated. But he's good. Not someone to drown."

Techno sinks his head onto Wilbur's shoulder, exhausted. "Oh."

"I'm sorry I scared you," Wilbur mutters.

"It wasn't under your control."

"No, but I still feel bad that I resorted to that."

"Oh." Techno sighs. "It was necessary. I'll be fine."

"I'll make sure to take care of your wounds," Wilbur promises.

Techno shakes his head. "We should... check on the humans. And Phil. I didn't— I don't think I warned Phil..."

"Fuck— Yeah, let's go check on them," Wilbur sighs, running a hand through his hair before swimming back towards land.

The ship is still coming, maybe ten minutes out from the island. Wilbur takes a deep breath of water— he doesn't smell anyone in the water, which is a good sign. But Techno will check the water.

He rushes to land, switching forms and running onto the beach. "PHIIIL??!"

He finds Phil without too much hassle, the older human pacing near the edge of the water with a worried pace— although one leg appears to be attached to a nearby tree with some rope, and Wilbur notices what look like some sort of makeshift earplugs. So he was smart enough to realize, thank goodness.

Wilbur rushes over and crashes into Phil with a hug.

Phil's eyes widen, and then he hugs back, one hand reaching up to tug out the earplug. "Wil! You're okay, thank goodness—!"

"I'm fine, I got lucky," Wilbur laughs. "That ship, do you recognize it? I don't know if he inherited yours but that ship is Tommy's."

"What?!" Phil looks up at the ship that's approaching, eyes wide. "No, I don't recognize it at all... Where the hell did he get a ship?" He squints. "And why does it look so banged up?"

"Well, it's just him and two of his friends on there," Wilbur chuckles.

"Jeez," Phil mutters. "Please tell me one of them is a helmsman."

"...Well they're both Tommy's age, and one is mersi of some sort." 

"That..." Phil eyes the ship once more. "...Wilbur, you might want to go slow them down. Manually. If that's something you can do."

"Oh, I definitely can," Wilbur chuckles, flashing his teeth before running and diving into the water. 

"SLOW YOUR SHIP OR I'M DOING IT FOR YOU!" He yells up to the kids.

He hears some indiscriminate screaming from Tommy, and then Tubbo pokes his head over the railing. "We don't know how!" He assures cheerfully.

"GREAT!" Wilbur chirps before swimming behind the thing and digging his claws into the wood. Strong, measured pumps of his tail sap the momentum quickly and they land with only a small crash.

Phil laughs loudly from the shore, and there's faint cheering from the deck of the ship.

"HI!" Tubbo yells, waving wildly.

"Hey, mate!" Phil grins, waving back.

"DAD!" Tommy yells, going to jump over the edge of the ship and barely being restrained by Ranboo grabbing his shirt at the last second. Tommy turns around and sticks out his tongue at Ranboo, then grabs the ladder on the side of the ship and slides down it instead to run over to Phil. "Dad!"

"Toms!" Phil smiles happy, hugging his son tightly.

Wilbur walks up behind Phil and Tommy, comparing their hair tones. "Well look at that, you didn't lie! He does have gold hair."

"I'm just blonde, prick," Tommy complains into Phil's chest, just to complain.

"That's what I said!" Phil laughs. "I think they might be a bit colorblind."

"Hey!" Wilbur whines. "I can see more colors than you!"

"Yeah, sure," Phil says, rolling his eyes. He then stage-whispers to Tommy. "He actually only sees two, gold and not-gold."

Wilbur gasps in mock-offense, while Tommy snickers into Phil's shirt.

"Hey!" Tubbo complains, joining them on the ground. "That's— speciesist or something!"

"Nah," Tommy retorts. "Just accurate."

"You humans barely know anything about mersi and yet you claim to know so much," Wilbur sighs dramatically.

The humans all laughs together.

"Hi!" Tubbo chirps happily. "I'm Tubbo! The slowpoke over there is Ranboo!"

Ranboo, it seems, is still lingering at the top of the ladder. He regards the edge of the beach that the ship landed on with suspicion: the ladder is in a spot where it looks like he'll have to step in some shallow water to get down. "Don't worry about me," he mumbles with a wave. 

"Does your enchantment break when you get wet?" Wilbur guesses. "One of us could try to carry you to shore."

Ranboo looks down at Wilbur. "Tubbo is too short," he replies. "And Tommy has no upper arm strength."

Wilbur looks at Phil, humming. "And Phil's old man bones would simply break. I mean, you can just drag your way up, you should dry off pretty quick?"

"Or I can just stay up here!" Ranboo assures. "Don't worry about me!"

Tubbo rolls his eyes and starts wading back over to the ship. "Oh, get down here, you big baby."

"It'll be fine," Wilbur assures.

"Ranboob, come onnn," Tommy drawls.

Ranboo sighs and slowly begins to descend the ladder. "I'm being peer pressured," he claims. "This is terrible."

"Oh come on boss man, we already know they won't care," Tubbo assures, looking up at Ranboo.

"Maybe I just really don't like the texture of wet clothes, huh? Did you ever think about that?" Ranboo retorts.

"Oh, come off it," Tubbo replies with a roll of his eyes. 

With the distraction, it seems Techno has used it to his advantage and come back from the sea, as he steps up next to Wilbur on the human legs he rarely uses. "What's happenin'?"

"Ranboo doesn't want to get wet," Wilbur explains. "I'm pretty sure he'll shift forms, he's definitely mersi of some sort."

"He's a pussy!" Tommy agrees.

Techno leans around Wilbur's shoulder to squint at Tommy. "...No."

"Hey, Techno," Phil smiles. "I'm glad to see you're alright."

Techno shrugs and goes back to hiding behind Wilbur. "Whatever."

"He's crunchy, don't worry about him," Wilbur excuses for Techno. "Phil warmed up to him!"

Techno huffs and bonks his forehead into Wilbur's back in retaliation.

"Hi, hi!" Tubbo greets, walking back over. He seems to have successfully rescued Ranboo from the ship, carrying him over bridal style. It's a rather humorous sight with just how lanky the kid is, very similar in build to Wilbur's human form.

"So you're the strong one," Wilbur snorts, looking Tubbo up and down. "You're strong, Ranboo's magic, Tommy is...?"

"The captain!" Tommy complains. 

"Annoying," Tubbo chirps at the same time. 

"I can't believe you hate me," Tommy whines, loud, dramatic, and clearly not meaning a word he says.

Ranboo squints at Tommy. "Aren't you the one who introduced yourself to me as annoying at first?"

"At first, my dear Ranboo," Tommy reminds.

Ranboo blinks slowly, like a cat. He looks at Tubbo.

"Don't worry, it hasn't worn off for me either," Tubbo jokes.

"OI!" 

Wilbur snorts, laughing loudly. "He's definitely your son, Phil."

Phil laughs and pulls Tommy close to his side with an arm. "I'm glad you've made some friends, mate," he smiles.

Tommy clings tightly to Phil. It's clear he won't be letting go for quite a while. "Mhm. Tubbo and Ranboo... Only reason I made it this far."

"I'm so glad you're safe," Phil whispers, pressing his face into Tommy's hair, cradling his boy. "If something had happened to you, I..."

"I got off at the first dock after they..." Tommy mutters, trailing off into a growl. "Met Tubbo there... Found Ranboo on a ship we snuck onto. Stole the ship and ran."

"Good job. I'm proud of you," Phil murmurs.

Tommy gives a weak smile. "I wanted to be someone you'd be proud of."

"You are," Phil swears. "You don't have to do anything at all, and I'd be proud of you. As long as you're alive, that's enough."

"I'm alive," Tommy confirms. "And so are you— you're alive."

"That I am," Phil smiles. "Thanks to Wilbur. And Techno."

Tommy squints at the two of them for a few seconds.

Wilbur sticks his tongue out at Tommy, who giggles a little bit. "Fiiiine, I guess you can keep them," the kid decides.

"You don't have a choice in the matter," Techno mutters, almost too quiet to hear.

Wilbur turns to look at Techno for a minute before cackling, turning around and picking up his significantly shorter brother. "Look, Phil! Now you have three sons!"

"Nooo," Techno whines, flopping limply into Wilbur's shoulder.

"Five," Tubbo corrects boldly. Phil just laughs at their antics.

"Does this mean I have four brothers?" Wilbur asks.

"Three," Tubbo corrects. "And a Ranboo."

"Three and a Ranboo," Wilbur accepts.

Ranboo shrugs. "Gender. Is weird."

"Agreed!" Wilbur laughs. "Fuck gender."

Ranboo nods. Techno looks up and raises his head from Wilbur's shoulder with a squint. "Your magic is weird," he mutters.

"I noticed that too," Wilbur hums. "Mind explaining? I won't push it, though."

"Oh..." Ranboo mumbles, waving a hand up toward his hair. "I'm, ah. A perfect split. That's probably it." 

"That's possible?!" Wilbur gasps. "Tech and I are technically half and half too but we both presented one way."

Ranboo shrugs. "It kind of just means I suck at both sides," he admits.

"Oh, shut up," Tubbo complains. “You're cool and you know it, dickhead."

Techno frowns. "...How long have you been shifted?" He asks.

"You mean human?" Ranboo asks. "Uh... eight days?" 

"Doesn't that— hurt?!" Wilbur exclaims. "How is that even possible?"

Ranboo shrugs. "I'm used to it."

"So it does hurt?" Wilbur squints.

"It just gets numb after a while," Ranboo assures. "And it hurts more to dry out."

"But. You're mersi," Wilbur repeats. "Mersi are seafolk." 

"It's fine," Ranboo mumbles, leaning a bit closer to Tubbo. "Don't worry about me."

Wilbur glares for a few seconds. "You're shifting back by tonight, at least once."

Tubbo hums. "You said it hurts him to stay with legs?" He asks Wilbur.

"At this time of the cycle, for sure," Wilbur nods.

"Cool," Tubbo says, picking Ranboo up again and walking him out to the water.

"Wait—!" Ranboo yelps, before Tubbo just drops Ranboo into the shallow beach tides.

Wilbur can't help but snort softly as Ranboo's body shifts. It's clearly somewhat more uncomfortable than when he and Techno do so, but without a conduit that is to be expected, he supposes.

"So, I can swim Tommy, Techno you can get Phil, and Ranboo, you can follow with Tubbo?" Wilbur suggests.

"...Give me a moment," Ranboo mumbles, his large, black and white splotchy tail splashing weakly against the water.

"You really need to spend more time in the water, mate," Wilbur chuckles.

"Oh, well excuse me, princess. It's not my fault I was in a cage for months," Ranboo retorts, annoyed. Tubbo nudges him with a foot, and Ranboo snaps half-heartedly at him with sharp teeth.

"...Fair enough," Wilbur acquiesces.

Ranboo sighs and pushes himself up to look over at Wilbur. "Why have you done this to me?" He looks up at Tubbo. "Why have you done this to me?"

"Oh fuck off, it's good for you," Tubbo retorts easily. He then sits on Ranboo's back. "And look! You can carry me!"

Ranboo just flops back into the shallow water.

"The water here is really nice," Wilbur tries to assure. "It's just the right temperature."

Ranboo flips him off.

Wilbur rolls his eyes and scoops Tommy up into a bridal carry with surprising ease, walking over towards a deeper patch of water, entirely ignoring the thrashing teen, before jumping in. Techno sighs and grabs onto Phil's sleeve gently, looking up at the ex-pirate to see what he wants to do. 

Phil looks down at Techno—a solid seven inches of height difference, and Phil is just average—before humming. "Why don't we let Wilbur have his fun? I wouldn't mind heading to your place."

"Maybe you can take a bigger breath this time," Techno suggests, stepping carefully toward the water. He regards it with a critical eye before sitting on the beach and sticking out his legs for the waves to hit and turn them back into his blue tail. Once that's done, he flicks it a little to test its reflexes, then scoots the rest of the way in and looks up to Phil again.

Phil walks in as well. He trusts Techno.

"Alright, deep breaths for the humans!" Wilbur declares before dragging Tommy under.

Techno makes sure Ranboo follows next with Tubbo, and then grabs Phil and holds him close to his chest in order to swim more easily. With that, they descend into the abyss that is the underwater tunnel once more.

Tubbo ends up coughing the most, with Ranboo not knowing where he's going and not having anything near enough practice with swimming, but nobody drowns.

Tommy, laying on the shore, claims he has drowned, but he is lying.

Tubbo crawls over to where Tommy is, then flops directly across his stomach.

"AGH! TUBBO!" Tommy complains.

"I'm helping," Tubbo assures.

"NO YOU ARE NOT!"

"I'm helpinggg," Tubbo insists, squishing Tommy even more to make him cough. 

Tommy coughs a bit and tries to throw Tubbo off of him.

Tubbo gets pushed off a bit, and then immediately the two of them begin wrestling. Phil sits on the sand a ways away, laughing at the two.

"Boys will be boys," he jokes as the three mersi watch from the water.

"I suppose so," Wilbur snorts. "They definitely look like brothers."

"Being on a ship with them is a nightmare," Ranboo agrees, rubbing at the scales of his tail with a hand.

Wilbur hums a bit, setting Phil up in a nice little groove of rock and claiming the real estate of his lap.

"Hey!! That's my lap!" Tommy whines.

"I think you mean mine!" Tubbo teases, running past Tommy and almost slipping on the wet rocks to beat him. 

Techno floats up to where Wilbur's tail is still half-resting in the water, leaning his forehead against the cool scales with a quiet chirp. Tired.

Wilbur wraps his tail around Techno to support the smaller mersi. Same, he replies.

Ranboo looks over at the two of them, confused. "What's that?" He asks quietly. "That— That thing you're doing. With the sounds."

"Talking?" Wilbur asks.

"No, the— whistling?"

"Yeah, that's talking in Mersi," Wilbur says, clicking out the final word.

Ranboo blinks, eyes wide. "Oh."

"You don't know it?" Techno mutters, looking up.

Ranboo shrugs. "I... guess not."

"I suppose it's not technically instinct to know it," Wilbur hums. "It'll probably come easily to you if you try to learn, though."

"Oh," Ranboo mumbles. "...I'm sorry?"

"Nothing to be sorry about," Wilbur shrugs.

"...Sorry."

Wilbur chirps. Youngling.

Ranboo tilts his head, blinking. "I got a... fond vibe?"

Techno smacks Wilbur's tail with his, lightly chastising. Wilbur shrugs. Youngling, he repeats.

Softie.

Wilbur rolls his eyes.

Techno yawns and stretches. Attached-softie, he teases in clicks.

Wilbur flicks some water at Techno's face.

Techno huffs and flicks his ear fin to get it off. Mine-brother, he insists, curling back up into the curve of Wilbur's tail.

Possessive, Wilbur returns.

Mine.

"He looks comfy," Phil smiles, petting Wilbur's curly hair. 

"He's petulant," Wilbur giggles, leaning up into the touch. "He says I'm his brother, and that I'm a softie."

"I mean, both of these things are factual," Phil chuckles.

Wilbur trills. The sound isn't quite right, but it certainly feels like a cheeky purr after a cat pushed the glass off the table.

Techno cracks an eye open from where it had closed, alerted by the sound of Wilbur being a menace. "What're ya doin'. Don't," he mutters.

Wilbur smiles innocently down at Techno, though it's certainly not very easy to look innocent with fangs meant to kill. Techno grabs Wilbur's hand and nips at it halfheartedly.

Wilbur gasps in mock-offense. "You wound me! You wound me so!"

"Mmhm. Don' do it," Techno mutters, deciding to just keep Wilbur's hand as a teddy bear. Wilbur ends up dragging Techno up into a full, proper cuddle. No need to be stingy. 

Techno's still gonna keep the hand, though. His hand now.

Tommy seems to have finally escaped Tubbo's wrath, flopping against Phil's side and shoving at Wilbur. "Come on, my lap!"

Wilbur looks at Tommy, unimpressed. "You are a tiny human with little noodle arms."

"Bitch!"

"Tiny boy. Little. Smaller than Technoblade."

"What?! Fuck you!"

"Techno, isn't he smaller than you?" Wilbur asks.

"Mmgh," Techno mumbles, apparently done with conversation for the day.

"I'll take that as a resounding yes," Wilbur declares.

"He didn't even say anything!!"

"You just don't know him well enough."

"He literally didn't!" Tommy whines, draping himself over Wilbur's lap out of petulance. Techno, who is also in Wilbur's lap, makes a face and hisses.

Wilbur picks up Tommy with one arm—like he weighs absolutely nothing —and shifts so Tommy is cuddling up on one side, half against Phil, half against Wilbur. Decidedly not against Techno.

Krrr, Techno trills, pleased by Wilbur looking out for him. 

"Hm. Yes, this is acceptable," Tommy declares, lounging. Tubbo flops against Tommy's legs, and then reaches out to help Ranboo get half out of the water and join the cuddle pile.

"Ewww, you're all damp," Tubbo complains.

"Yes. That happens," Ranboo snickers, unabashed.

"Half of the people in this grove are literally beings of the sea," Wilbur reminds. "You're gonna get used to being moist."

"This sucks," Tubbo whines.

"You're literally an ocean nerd, Tubbo, the fuck are you talking about?" Tommy retorts.

"Fuck off."

Home, Wilbur clicks. Happy.

"Go to sleep, mate," Phil murmurs, scratching at Wilbur's scalp gently. "I'll be here when you wake up."

Wilbur trills again, yawning.

...Pod? Techno offers with a quiet whistle.

Pod, Wilbur agrees.

Techno hums and the brothers drift off in each other's arms, surrounded by a new family.