Chapter Text
The moon calls to him.
It’s one thing that Techno’s coven can’t understand. The urge to hunt, the instinctual way that he leans towards them, the protectiveness, the body language- all of that, Techno’s coven understands. It’s a learned thing, but it is learned. It’s the sort of thing that they have spent countless times trying to memorize. Techno’s phases, his instincts, all of that, are well known by his coven.
But the moon?
His coven doesn’t even dare to understand that. They can’t.
Techno isn’t a believer in much, but he knows the creation myths of his people. The wolves were dying. The men were dying. And the moon reached down and kissed their souls, binding them together and to her. He’s not sure how much he believes in the moon reaching down physically and binding them so that they were wolves with men's faces, but he does know that every night he wakes up and goes to sit in her beauty.
Sometimes he can ignore the way he craves the brush of the moon against his skin. The way the energy hums in his skull. He’s able to sleep at night then, curled up in his furs near Phil and Wilbur’s feet. On other nights, one’s where the moon is more full, he finds that he can’t do anything other than sit and bask in her glory.
His coven doesn’t understand that, but then again, there’s a reason that they are his coven.
They are not his pack.
In many ways they are. Techno would hesitate to say they’re less important than a pack, but at the end of the day, they are not pack. They do not run with him on the full moon. They do not shift into furs and hunt with him. Their instincts are carefully memorized things that are just necessary to live with a wolf.
And for all of this, he is grateful. It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t crave.
Wolves, for all they are, are not solitary creatures. They thrive on the bonds between one another, between the families that come from being a pack. He is not alone, not really, but he’s alone enough that here, under the moon, he howls. It's a lonely sound. The moon’s magic presses against his mind further.
He wants. He wants, he wants, he wants.
A pack. A pack. A pup.
Techno knows that if he told his coven that particular detail they wouldn’t understand. He’s not a kid's guy. In fact, he used to make a game of going to orphanages and luring children away to eat. That’s how little of a kid guy he was. But they also didn’t understand that he was not human in the same way they were. Their humanity was an extension of themselves. But Techno was a wolf in a man’s form.
A pup is different than a child.
A pup, to teach how to hunt. How to sink his claws into flesh. How to run and sprint. How to play. To sit in the moonshine with. The delicate passing of instincts on.
He has no pack. They were picked off long ago by man. His coven is normally enough. But this? Techno wants. He craves. The idea of passing on his culture, his ways of life, it calls to him.
Maybe he’s too moon drunk to realize what he does next.
The forest where they have made their home is thick. On the other side of it there is a village. It’s a small town- L’manburg or something. Wilbur loves traveling there and selling his potions and magic, playing guitar in the town square. He’s sure that Wilbur will not like what he is about to do.
On the other side of the village from the forest, the one closest to the road that connects to the main empire, there is an orphanage.
It’s not the same one he used to prey on, but it is there. He stalks the perimeter of the town, watching the way the lights in the houses flicker. They have a fire on, keeping warm. They don’t know that he is out tonight, waiting for something. Waiting for someone. They are tucked in their beds, all warm and asleep. Tomorrow, men will go out and go to their job in the steel factory that makes up the town and the women will go to the linen mill, and no one will know any different. The cobblestone streets will look the same.
But Techno will have his pup.
Slowly, he creeps away from the village, staying in the underbrush. There are some vampires out tonight and honestly, he would rather not engage. He wants to stay hidden. Wants to have his pup away from the light and under the glory of the moon.
There are small noises coming from the back of the orphanage.
Techno lies in wait, watching. He will decide if any of the children in the back are worth taking. If not, he will return. Find one who he likes.
“I’m not being adopted,” The smaller of the two children sitting on the porch says, holding his hands together tightly. He cannot be older than eleven. “No one wants me. He’s probably only checking me out to make sure that I’m good for the workhouse.”
The other boy flinches, flicking his eyes around the backyard. “Don’t say that, Tubbo. They only send the older boys to the workhouse.”
“They sent Tommy there didn’t they?”
“Yeah, but…” The other boy hesitates. “I love Tommy. But he- he liked to fight them.”
The small boy stands, clearly angry, “Boo! Don’t fucking say that! Nothing Tommy did means he deserved to be- be-
put
in that hellscape!”
“I know!” Boo held his hands in front of his face. “But, you have to admit, they hated Tommy!”
A third child, one that Techno hadn’t noticed, came around from the path. “Oh, they did, did they?”
“Tommy!”
“Tommy!”
“No,” Tommy, apparently, snapped, “Don’t pretend like you’re both happy to see me. Did they hate me, Ranboo?”
Ranboo paled. “That’s not what I-”
“Shut up,” Tommy growled, “Did they hate me? Was I too much
trouble
Ranboo? Too
destructive?
Not worth the fucking
effort!”
Something about the way the child spoke made his instincts sing. The boy was younger than the other two in front of him. He’d place the other two at eleven or twelve but this boy was clearly no older than ten. Maybe a little younger based on the milky smell that still clung to the child.
Still. He was cursing and fighting and growling. The way the child stalked forward, circling his friends, it was so similar to a wolfs. This child… he was born to be a wolf. Clearly.
“Tommy,” The smaller boy pleaded. “He didn’t mean it like that!”
Techno took a step forward. Tommy whirled on Tubbo, “I bet you’re glad I’m at the workhouse!”
“No!” Ranboo spoke up, horrified. “It’s- it’s terrible that you-”
“Shut up!” Tommy cried. Techno took another step forward. “You didn’t ever want me here, Ranboo! You never-!”
Techno stepped on a branch, sending the sound of the snap echoing. The three boys turned, eyes wide. Techno stared at them, hackles raising.
Maybe the other two would make good snacks for him and his pup.
He stood, low to the ground, a growl echoing out of his throat. His pup stared at him, blue eyes almost glowing in the moonlight. How he’d love her song.
“Okay,” Tommy spoke slowly, “Here’s what- here’s what we're going to do.”
“Tommy,” The smallest whimpered, hand going to clutch at his pups. “Tommy, we have to run.”
“If we all run, he’ll chase us,” Tommy said. “That’s- Tubbo, that's a
werewolf.”
Ranboo let out a quiet sob. Techno couldn’t help but feel a spark of pride that his pup, his brilliant fighting pup knew what he was. Maybe, he even, knew that he was about to become the same. He sniffed the air, not letting his growl stop. It was no longer a warning, rather just a promise.
His pup took a hesitant step forward. “Tubbo, you- you gotta run. You and Ranboo.”
“But,” Ranboo sobbed loudly now, breathes coming out sharp and quick. “What will happen to you- Tommy-
Tommy.”
“You gotta go.”
The way that his pup was placing himself in the route of danger only solidified his choice more. This pup, he’d be good in a pack. Loyal. When Techno finally broke him down, he’d be perfect. All warm and soft and loyal. He’d put up a good fight. He’d be wonderful to finally train.
His muscles strained with the urge to pounce.
“GO!” Tommy shouted and he, instead of running away, run straight towards Techno.
Tubbo and Ranboo must’ve screamed louder than anything Techno had ever heard, but it was too late. His pup was barreling toward him, shouting curse words and swearing him out, and Techno took. He grabbed his pup by the clothes and threw him towards the wood, the fabric tearing under his teeth. Tommy rolled, letting out a pained cry as his head hit the forest floor.
Techno stalked towards him, watching as his pup slipped into the underbrush of the forest. He was scrambling back- back, back, back, and back until he hit a tree- tears running down his face like a waterfall. He stepped closer.
It was silent for a moment. All except for Tommy’s terrified breathing. Truly, Techno hadn’t meant to throw him that far into the wood but. He was light. Techno’s throws were usually meant for Wilbur. It was whatever, it served his purposes very very well. Here, in the wood, far away from the light of man and the orphanage, it was just him and his pup.
The moon fluttered through the darkness of the trees. It preened Techno’s fur, urging him forward. This child was his pup, after all. It wanted to greet him.
He took a step further.
His pup dry heaved a sob.
There was no pleading from his pup. That was good. It showed a sense of pride. Despite the way that here, in the overwhelming darkness of the forest, it was more obvious how young his pup was, he didn’t plead. He didn’t accept it either, his hands still pushing on the ground like the tree behind him would melt and he would continue to run.
He stepped closer.
His pup sobbed again.
How wonderful, really, it would be to have a pup. A little fighter. Someone to hunt with, to show all the spots in the forest too. To bathe in the moonlight. The moonlight wanted him. And Techno couldn’t help but agree with her.
Tommy trembled. His chest was moving fast and hard. He still didn't make a sound.
What a good pup.
A fighter who knew when he couldn’t escape.
Techno growled, low and dark. The sound came from his throat and shook the whole forest into silence. It even seemed like Tommy’s breath had stopped. Not calmed, but stopped. There would come a day where Techno’s growls would calm Tommy and please him. They were far off, now, but he could practically taste them on his tongue.
His pup pressed against the tree.
He pounced.
Tommy screamed. It shook the trees, scaring the birds out of their nests and shuttering the trees. It didn’t matter.
Techno’s teeth sunk into his pup's side, the blood of his young filling his mouth. The flesh tore easily under his teeth. It sank past the muscle and straight into the bones of Tommy’s ribs, the cracks forming underneath his teeth. It was happening, now. He could hear the shattering of Tommy’s bones as the moon took hold, creating him into a creature that looked so much like Techno. Through the entire movement, his teeth remained clamped, the bones of his pup marked with the imprints of his fangs.
The moon sang her approval and welcomed Techno’s new pup.