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Chapter Text

"This is the end," Wilbur says, looking at the group of excited seven-to-fifteen-year-olds. The camp's stock of orange shirts was running low and he reminds himself to shoot his dad a text to pick up some more.

The tallest boy, a lanky and dual-colored boy whose aesthetic would fit in well with the Hades cabin, is stuck with a shirt that rides up every time he raises his pale arms.

He'd hung to the back of the group throughout Wilbur's tour and hasn't talked to any of the other new campers, keeping distant and quiet like he could make himself disappear. Wilbur can't help but worry about the quiet ones these days, especially with Dream on the prowl.

"Alright, everybody! Head over to your cabins and your siblings will get you sorted," Wilbur says with a clap. The tall boy jumps at the noise and he makes a note that the new kid's easily spooked.

The new campers head to their determined cabins, but the tall boy waits anxiously, like he knows Wilbur wants to talk to him.

"Hey, there," Wilbur says, "Need help finding your cabin?"

"I don't know which one to go to," the kid admits quietly, "I-uh-I don't know who my parent is."

He says it like it's a condemnation of himself and not his godly parent. He says it like it wasn't one of the only stipulations Techonblade had made when he'd spared the gods.

Wilbur groans internally at the inevitable pile of paperwork in his near future.

"Alright," Wilbur says instead of screaming into his hands, "We'll get you sorted. The Camp Heads won't be back for a few days, but we can put you up with a different cabin until then. You got any defining traits?"

"I'm, uh, bad at remembering stuff?" he says, wringing his hands "I don't like water? And I like spaghetti?"

Wilbur considers him.

"Apollo," he decides, "It's pretty neutral, and they're not water-based."

The next day, Wilbur finds out that Apollo was absolutely the right decision.

Somehow the kid, apparently named Raboo, had fallen and split his hand open on a corner's edge during the night. The cabin full of healers was more than prepared to take him on and Wilbur finds Ranboo sat at a table with Ponk.

Tubbo, from the Hephaestus cabin, clings to Ranboo like they've been friends for years.

Tommy sulks a bit, peeved at the lack of attention, and Wilbur snorts.

'Kids,' he thinks, rolling his eyes.

Just outside the camp barrier, Dream grins.

Kids indeed.

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"Don't be a crybaby," the kid scoffs, sneering.

Ranboo sniffles, his shoulders hitching over his ears. His memory book crackles in the campfire's flames. His eyes burn and he pretends like it's just the smoke.

"You're such a--"

"Hey, boob boy!" Tommy shouts, joining them in the training area. Tommy doesn't like Ranboo, he knows. He hopes he isn't here to make fun of him too.

"Hey, Tommy," Ranboo says wetly and Tommy's face darkens. Ranboo tries not to flinch.

"What's going on here?" he asks, snarls. Ranboo grits his teeth to keep from snarling back.

"Just getting to know the new kid," Ranboo's tormentor says, grinning.

"Sounds fun," Tommy says dryly, "You having fun, Ranboo?"

Ranboo nods hesitantly, unsure.

"Cool, cool," Tommy says, clapping Ranboo on the back. He can barely hide his flinch that time. "Well, Tubbo and I are going to the forge, so we wanted to invite you."

Ranboo nods. "Sure."

"Great," Tommy says with a grin, "You go ahead. I'll meet you guys there."

Ranboo slinks away from Tommy and the nameless kid from the Ares cabin, something like relief in his throat.

And later, when Tommy joins him and Tubbo in the forge with split knuckles and his memory book perfectly intact, Ranboo wonders if maybe Tommy likes him after all.

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"You don't know your godly parent," Technoblade checks.

Ranboo nods. "Yeah. I mean, maybe they told me? I have a really bad memory."

"No shit," Tommy scoffs, "You didn't even remember your shoes this morning."

Heat rushes to Ranboo's face, even though Tommy isn't exactly wrong.

"You'd have a mark," Technoblade says, "It's kind of like a beacon on your soul, I guess. Now that I'm looking, it's obvious you don't have one."

"And that's...bad?"

"Very bad," Wilbur agrees tiredly, "It means a god out there isn't claiming their kids."

Technoblade hums neutrally.

"You don't think so?" Wilbur asks.

"Well," Techonblade says, "All of the gods seem to be on track. I'd be surprised if they missed one."

"Clearly they did," Tommy says.

"That's assuming that Ranboo's a demigod," Technoblade says, and what?

"What else would I be?"

Technoblade stares into his eyes and something in Ranboo shifts uneasily.

"Have you met Charlie?" Technoblade asks and Tommy snorts.

"You think he's a slime monster ?"

"Probably not slime, no," Techonblade says and Ranboo thinks.

"You think I'm a half-monster?" he asks, only mildly perturbed, "What kind?"

Technoblade frowns. "Honestly," he says "I have no idea."

Ranboo huffs.

"So Ranboo's a monster and Dream is lurking," Tommy huffs, "Today's going great."

"Bet tomorrow'll be even better," Ranboo mutters and Tommy groans. "Don't jynx us, man."

"Dream's the smiley guy?" Ranboo asks, thinking about the green-eyed man who'd followed him around the woods.

"He's a nightmare," Tommy says hotly, "He's a fucking criminal."

"He's harmless," Technoblade says at Ranboo's panicked look, "He and Tommy have a history."

"Oh, I forget you're all buddy-buddy," Tommy says with a scowl.

Technoblade rolls his eyes.

"He was talking to me," Ranboo admits, "I don't really remember."

"That makes sense," Wilbur says, "If you're part monster, and from around here, he can probably Command you."

"He can control me?" Ranboo asks nervously and Wilbur makes a so-so motion.

"He wouldn't make you do anything crazy," Techonblade says, "He's been bitter about the camp since we first built it, since this is technically his land. He'd probably just start some chaos and…"

Technobalde frowns.

"I'll talk to him," he decides, "He's probably been a little restless after the remodeling by the lake."

"His land?" Ranboo asks and Technoblade sighs.

"It's a long story."

"Oh," Ranboo says, biting his lip, "Sorry."

"It's fine?"

Ranboo stares at the ground and Technoblade sighs.

"Ask him the next time you see him," Technoblade says, "I'm sure he'll tell you all about his descension into godhood."

Ranboo blinks.

" What?"

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"You're funny," George says, "I'm keeping you."

"That is so not how this works," Sapnap says, "We literally sleep in different cabins. You guys can't keep me."

"I don't sleep in the Hypnos cabin," George argues. Sapnap sighs.

"Dream, back me up," he says and Dream looks up from the cat he's been carving from birchwood for the past hour.

"You can't keep Sapnap," Dream says, "I'm keeping him."

Sapnap groans.

"I literally got here a week ago," he says, "Why do you guys like me so much?"

Dream snorts. "You don't really get how this works, huh?"

"How what works?"

"You're part of the Dream Team now," he says and Sapnap half-regrets joining them in dodgeball if it's bought him a lifetime of George, "We don't leave people behind."

"We'll keep you safe," George says, "Cause you're one of us."

Sapnap sighs.

Maybe this won't be so bad.

This is so, so bad.

Sapnap is never leaving his cabin again.

The monster, a fucking Minotaur roars behind him.

"I can't do this!" he shouts and Dream laughs. He's having way too much fun, considering they're all about to die. "No shit, Sap! That thing's a fucking beast !"

Technoblade and Dream kill the Minotaur, despite the fact that the prophecy says Sapnap should. In fact, it'll be Technoblade and Dream to complete the prophecy in its entirety and Sapnap who backs them up.

George will rule and sleep in a tree and Sapnap will wait for all of them in his prison, a field of his own flames blocking him into his corner of Tartarus.

And, one day, after decades of waiting alone, they'll all come back to him.

Chapter Text

"Oh my god," Wilbur breathes, legs shaking and arms full of fox. His son, a gift from the gods, blinks up at him blearily.

"Dad is going to kill me," the nineteen-year-old says, eyes wide.

His son coos, flexing his tiny fists, and his russet-colored ears flick in the air. His tail curls around Wilbur's arm like a snake, which he's pretty sure fox tails don't usually do, and he smiles.

"Hi," Wilbur greets, smiling back, "Hi there, baby. I'm your dad now."

The baby laughs happily and Wilbur sniffles.

"Fundy," he decides, naming his baby on a whim the same way Sally had given him a baby on a whim.

He is never kissing a river goddess again.

But, Sally probably already knows that. She'd sent him away with a "goodbye" instead of a "see you soon," watching the baby she's all but abandoned with an affectionless smile.

The baby, his baby, his Fundy gurgles.

"Tommy's going to love you," Wilbur says, "And dad is going to kill me."

Wilbur pulls his baby close to his chest and Fundy burrows into his sweater, chasing his warmth.

"You are going to be so loved," he promises.

And, happy and surrounded by family, Fundy is.

Fundy should have been a demigod.

His mom's a river goddess, not that he's ever met her. His dad, obviously, is Wilbur.

Wilbur's a half-god, so technically Fundy should be a three-quarter-god.

Either way, technically a demi-god, which Fundy should be.

Fundy isn't a demigod, for some reason, and it leaves him pacing into the night.

He's pretty sure that Wilbur's his dad, but he knows the math doesn't work. He wants Wilbur to be his dad.

Wilbur hasn't said anything to him yet, but there's no way he doesn't know. Technoblade's amazing at math, and even Fundy can figure this out. There's no way they don't know.

And the more Fundy thinks about it, the more worried he gets.

Maybe, if they aren't blood, Wilbur won't keep him.

Maybe Wilbur will get rid of him the same way his mom had.

And it's with that logic that Fundy goes to Olympus with a wish on his breath.

Chapter Text

"What the fuck?" Sapnap asks, staring at the maybe-nine-year-old walking out of the elevator and into Olympus.

"Hello there," Eret greets and the kid looks up at him.

"I need to be like my dad," the kid says, "He's a demi-god, so I need to be one too."

"And you're not?"

The kid looks at him like he's stupid, so Sapnap frowns and studies him.

"You're a baby god?" he asks, incredulous. Eret reaches down and picks up the baby god like he's a toddler, which the baby god does not like.

"Put me down!" he shouts, "Make me like him!"

"How is your dad a demigod?" Sapnap asks, trying to do the math.

"He's--" the kid sniffles, stilling dejectedly, "He's not really my dad, I don't think."

His eyes are wet and his hands shake in tiny little fists. Gods, were they ever this little?

"I just want him to keep me," the kid says and something in Eret's face softens.

"He loves you," Eret promises, seeing something more, "He would never forgive himself if you changed yourself for him."

The kid's breath hitches and, suddenly, he's sobbing into Eret's shirt.

Sapnap can't imagine being so tiny, so new to the world. He can't imagine being a god and being so young at the same time. He can't imagine not having his friends with him at that age.

"We'll take you home," Sapnap decides and Eret nods. The baby god cries.

Wilbur is, apparently, his dad. Why no one bothered to tell Sapnap, he doesn't know.

Still, it's nice to see some of his friends after so long. They have a lot to catch up on.

And Wilbur already knew that Fundy wasn't his in blood. He'd known ever since the fish woman had a fox baby and claimed it belonged to the human who'd barely kissed her that Fundy wasn't really his.

"She was so eager to get rid of him," Wilbur admits, running a hand through his sleeping son's hair, "I couldn't imagine leaving him, letting her give him to someone worse."

"You've done well," Eret says, "He'll be one hell of a god when he grows up."

"He's one hell of a god now," Wilbur says with a laugh, "He's already so strong."

Wilbur frowns something pained. "I hope he has a good life."

"He will," Sapnap promises without a doubt in the world. He's a god, after all. He'll make it happen.