Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sunshine had broken through the blinds, sending bands of light across the demonic’s sleeping face. A soft groan disrupted the room’s peaceful morning silence, quickly followed by the rustling sounds of sheets and blankets.

Bad sat up slowly, stretching his arms to the sky with a long yawn, joints popping and cracking with the movement. They seemed to protest the motion, feeling like lead; for a moment, Bad considered just flopping back into bed. However, the wafting scent of eggs and bacon floated towards his room and reminded him of why he couldn’t just do that: he had company.

Skeppy’s company to be exact. 

With a sigh, and a small prayer that his friend hadn’t burned down anything in the kitchen yet, Bad tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. Why did everything feel so heavy..?

Oh no. Oh no nononono no-.

He stared at his hand, blinking a few times as if the problem would go away. 

It didn’t.

“Oh muffins…” Suddenly, Bad was all too aware of what was going on around him; the way his head was heavy, the weights beneath his shoulder blades, the slightest lisp he got when his tongue ran over fangs, and how every detail stood out to him as if the world had a sharp filter on it. 

And with Skeppy still here… 

Today would not be a good day.

Skeppy perked up upon hearing the creak of (what he assumed was) Bad’s door opening. The young man turned slightly, expecting Bad’s brilliant smile and a cheerful ‘Good morning, Geppy!’ as he was enveloped in a warm hug (the demonic was always so warm, he loved it). 

What he did not expect, and was frankly disappointed by, was the sound of soft, yet quick, footsteps away from him and the quick slam of the bathroom door.

“Bad?” He called out in concern, abandoning his current task and setting down the spatula he had been holding. “Are you okay?” 

Faintly, he heard mumbling, then louder, “I’m okay, uh, just a bit under the weather. You might want to head home now so you don’t catch anything. Sorry.”

Skeppy tilted his head. Well isn’t that utter bs? Can demons even get sick?

[The answer is yes, but he doesn't know that.]

“Are you sure? I mean, I can probably go get you something if you’d like.” He continued towards the shut door. Objects clattered to the floor beyond the wood, making Skeppy tilt his head once more. “Seriously, dude, are you okay?” 

More things fell, and it really sounded as if Bad was struggling with someone.

He tried the knob, finding it locked. “You locked the door.”

“Uh, yeah. It’s the bathroom. Why wouldn’t I lock the door?” The demonic rolled his eyes. 

Skeppy then heard a slight murmur of what sounded like ‘ oh, fudge ’ before a clearer: “Seriously. I’m good, Skeppy, head home. I’ll call you later okay?”

Bad waited for his friend’s response only to be met with a continued silence. “Skeppy?”

BAM!

With a shriek, Bad jumped back from the swinging door, wings flaring out behind him and knocking down the bottles he had just put back up. His arms were raised in weak defense, as if he wasn’t an all powerful demon who could kill an army with breaking a sweat. Chest heaving, he stared at the intruder in shock.

“Skeppy, you muffinhead ! What was that for?!” 

Instead of retorting with some witty comment like he usually did, Skeppy was staring at Bad with a look he couldn’t quite place. Maybe shock, maybe adoration or awe. It was a look he received often but never put much thought to it.

Humans being humans , he guessed.

“Geppy..? Are you okay..?”

Said man blinked as if coming out of a haze, closing his mouth. “I, uh- woah ...”

Just like that one day at the cafe, Bad stood in a form of unholy glory. Four massive wings, a larger pair on his upper back, with a smaller pair a little ways below them, were folded behind him, the color of black holes. His horns curled up towards the ceiling, threatening to scrape it, fading to bloody red at the points. His skin was made of shadows and Skeppy was tempted to touch him just to see if his hands would phase through the matter. Bad’s eyes glowed with their white unnatural light, and a dark halo floated behind him, chipped, cracked, and fragmented. \

He made sure to blink a few extra times just to make sure his second vision wasn’t acting up for some reason... Nope. Still there.

“Look, I-I know that this is probably really weird, I look weird, so if you want to leave, I understand-” The demon nervously rambled on, wings folding tight behind him and tail flicking with anxiety. 

Skeppy couldn’t have that.

“Why would I leave?” Skeppy stepped closer, putting on his friendliest smile. His best friend was nervous, he had to make him feel better.

“Because I look weird, or scary, or-” He was cut off with a hand holding his. When had Skeppy gotten so close?  

“Well, I think you’re beautiful.” Demons couldn’t quite blush, not when their true forms were pitch darkness at least. However, Bad could feel his face burn with the hottest hellfire at the statement, mind stuttering to a blank. “Plus, you look fucking badass.”

That snapped him out of his daze. “SKEPPY! LANGUAGE! ”

After a few minutes of trying to persuade Bad out of the bathroom, Skeppy managed to seat him at the kitchen table. The demon played with his clawed fingers, glancing around the room. Something heavy formed in the medium’s chest; Bad didn’t feel safe in his own home. He wasn’t sure if it was past experiences (not that he knew of any; as far as Bad had told him, he’d only arrived on Earth shortly before he met Skeppy) or if Hell had instilled this anxiety in him. A tense silence settled over the room.

“Soo… I’m guessing something’s wrong with your ‘human disguise thingy,’ yeah?” The medium prompted, watching his friend expectantly. 

Bad nodded, surprisingly meek. “I don’t know what’s wrong. This doesn’t happen…”

He studied an inky black claw, as if it held the answer to all his questions. The hand then strained and flexed, curling into a fist. “It’s like… It’s almost like something is keeping me from going back to my human form. Like my energy has been completely drained.” The demon paused, opening his hand once more. “But it’s still there, just not focused on the right thing.”

“Where is it focused, then?” He leaned on the table, arms folded.

The white eyed demon shrugged, “Dunno. Healing, maybe? That tends to happ-”

“Wait- You’re hurt?!? ” The man shot up, ready to fetch a first aid kit. Did first aid kits even work for demons?

Bad’s eyes widened in surprise before he frantically motioned for Skeppy to calm down. “No! No, I’m all good! Physically, at least.” His friend was about to interject before he continued on, “It’s like my energy got confused and thought I was wounded. Major wounds need more energy, so disguises are typically dropped.”

“Oh, yeah… That makes sense.” The medium untensed, looking around the apartment for a new subject. 

However, Skeppy’s eyes were drawn to the appendages behind Bad, subtly shifting and fluttering. They were right there, and he could touch them. The medium subconsciously flexed his hand, resisting the urge to reach out for them. He wondered what they felt like; were they silky, like how he always imagined them to be? Soft and delicate...

Is that weird?

…

Yeah, definitely. Moving on now.  

Instead of reaching out, Skeppy cleared his throat awkwardly. “Ah, um, do you want breakfast? I was making eggs and bacon…”

Bad took a moment to peer around him. “Uh, it looks kinda burnt.”

“Huh?” Lo and behold, as he turned to look at his work, he finally noticed the burning smell. “Oh fuck!”

“ Language! ”

Needless to say, in his haste to make sure his best friend was okay, Skeppy forgot to turn off the stove. His attempt at breakfast was ruined and promptly fed to Rat.

( “You can’t feed that to Rat! It will make her sick!”

“Look, Rat is a Hellhound. I doubt my failure will kill her.” )

Skeppy sighed loudly. “How do you feel about muffins from that one place we always go to.”

His friend perked up at the idea, nodding. 

“Okay, I’ll be back soon.” Soon enough, he grabbed his hoodie and went out the door. 

And Bad was left alone…

A short walk over, 10 minutes to order and get said order, then walking the same way back; it took no more than half an hour overall. The cafe had been as packed as it typically was, but that wasn’t too much of a bother. 

In a white paper bag, Skeppy carried two chocolate chip muffins, a blueberry, and a cinnamon toast muffin that looked interesting. His other hand held a disposable cup filled with hot chocolate that Bad always ordered. He wasn’t sure what made it so great, but Bad liked it so why not. 

Within minutes, he was in front of Bad’s apartment door once more. Skeppy moved the goods to hold with one arm, using the other to open the door.

It didn’t open. It was locked . 

He rattled the handle once more as if that would suddenly fix the problem. When it didn’t, he knocked, loudly, on the door. 

“Bad! You locked the door! Can you open it?” Something moving could be heard beyond the door, but not coming closer to fix the problem. “Bad… If you don’t unlock the door right now, I’m gonna kick it down.” He paused. “And you know I will.”

Skeppy gave the demon a moment before readying himself to start kicking; however the knob clicked and turned, opening the door slightly and giving a peek of a darkened room. 

(If this was any other apartment, Skeppy would have turned tail and ran.)

He nudged the door with his foot, stepping into the blacked out apartment. The curtains were drawn, morning sunshine barely permeating the barrier. Light claws clicked against the floor and the man was suddenly hit with apprehension, tensing up at whatever was barreling towards him. 

In the dark, he barely made out the white furred shape of Rat, excitedly wagging her tail and looking up in expectation.

“Morning Rat; sorry, none for you.” The wagging faltered slightly. “ But I will give you a treat if you show me where your master is.”

Her excited behavior returned as the small hellhound turned down the hall and trotted towards Bad’s door. She stopped and looked back to make sure he was following. 

“Hang on, gimme a sec-” Skeppy turned on the main room lights and placed breakfast on the table before following Rat into Bad’s bedroom. He flicked on the lightswitch, Rat trotting towards the demonic’s closet doors.

The medium resisted the urge to laugh.

“Good girl.” He praised the dog with a scratch behind the ear; figuring her job was done, Rat left to sniff around the kitchen (they wouldn’t miss a nibble of their muffins right?). Skeppy gave it a moment before he crouched down and slid the folding doors open. “Bad?”

There was a bit of shuffling before a blinding white eye was revealed in the darkness. He whispered, “That little traitor…”

Skeppy laughed lightly. “Sold you out for a dog bone, too.”

Bad moved so that he wasn’t as concealed by the shadows, and small smile gracing his features at the comment. But he didn’t say anymore.

“What are you doing in here, Bad?” He sighed, fondness mixed with exasperation. 

The demon frowned, bringing his knees closer to his chest. His barely seen wings resisted the urge to wrap around him, as he mumbled: “I thought I could convince you no one was home, so you’d leave…”

“Why would I leave?”

“Because I can look scary, and it freaks people out, and I don’t want you to not like me!” Bad folded in on himself, giving in to his urge to let his wings cover him.

Skeppy’s brain stalled. “You- You think I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t like you? ‘Cause of how you look ?”

His friend hesitantly nodded, causing him to bark out a laugh. Bad flinched but looked on in confusion. “What? What’s so funny? Why are you still laughing? !”

“Bad! That is the most ridiculous thing you could have ever said! I thought it was gonna be more like ‘ I have a hard time controlling my murderous urges when I’m like this ’ or something like that-”

“Nooo!” Bad whined, “That’s not it! I- I don’t have ‘ murderous urges ,’ you muffinhead !”

Crossing his arms, he looked away with a pout. Skeppy tried to calm his giggling. 

“Sorry, sorry.” He smiled, a kind of lovedumb smile, eyes sparkling with mirth. “But seriously, dude, believe it or not, you’re not that scary. In fact, it’s pretty badass.”

“I-” Bad paused, considering correcting his friend’s language; instead he nuzzled into his knees, hiding the heat of his face (again, not that Skeppy would have been able to see it) and a sweet smile. “Thank you, Skeppy.”

“No problem. Now, come on. Let’s get out of the closet.”

Unlike the bathroom, Skeppy had an easier time coaxing Bad to come out of the closet and towards the kitchen. The demonic was still a little nervous; even if the medium couldn’t have sensed the anxious energy radiating from his friend, he would have noticed the way his tail hung low in flicking motions and his wings were pulled tight behind him. 

“Okay, so, I was thinking-”

“Don’t hurt yourself.” Bad mumbled with a small smirk, shying glancing at Skeppy. 

“Rude.” He huffed. “And I thought I was going to explain my wonderful plan for the day to you, over these delicious muffins I trekked through hoards of people to get for you .”

“Noo- Skeppy, I’m sorry!” 

“No no. It’s fine. Obviously my struggles mean nothing to you.” He opened the bag to retrieve himself a muffin. “Guess I’ll have to eat these on my own!”

“Nooooooo! I’m sorryyyyy!” Bad came up behind him and despite being like a foot taller than usual in this form, he buried his face in his friend’s shoulder and whined. “ Geppyyyyy-! ”

He resisted laughing. The demon seemed to be a lot more touchy in this state, but Skeppy didn’t mind. He liked being able to be so close to his friend. 

He bumped a chocolate chip muffin against the demon’s head, tiny crumbs getting left in his hair (or whatever demonics considered hair). Bad carefully took it from his hand with a ‘thank you,’ mindful of his claws, and moved away. Skeppy missed the warmth. 

“So… You said you had a plan?” Bad’s muffin already had quite a few bites taken out of it and generally seemed a little more at ease. Part A had worked then--no one can resist the mystical power of muffins. 

He nodded. “Yep. It’s mostly just sitting on the couch and watching movies all day; maybe ordering take out from that Chinese place you like?” 

The demon grinned at the idea, nodding happily. “That sounds good. I can do that.”

“Great!” Skeppy clapped his hands together, “Cause if it wasn’t, I was out of ideas.”

Hours later, the medium was snuggled into his friend’s side, leeching off the unnatural warmth the demon radiated. Like seriously, if Skeppy suddenly lost power in the middle of winter, he could rely on Bad to keep him warm (but in a non-weird way, ya know). 

A heavy wing was draped over his shoulder, acting as a blanket and soft as one too. He once again had to resist the urge to card his finger through the feathers, just to touch them. 

That wasn’t weird right? He was just curious. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Yeah.

Anyways, the two were through their fifth movie, this one a romance that neither of them were particularly interested in watching but willing to make fun of all the tropes and crappy writing. Like at this point: the young, lone nerd-to-popular girl spills her heart out to the obvious (and douchey) jock love interest after both won homecoming royalty at prom. It's tense as he looks her in the eye before returning the feelings with a gentle kiss to her lips. Sparks fly, fireworks go off, and the screen fades to black, the loud and dramatic music finally dying out as the credits began to roll. 

“Why would they even put fireworks in a gym full of children? Someone could have gotten hurt.” Right, by ‘fireworks went off’ he meant ‘fireworks literally went off in the background’.

“I don’t know. It’s a dumb movie.” Skeppy shrugged, the movement limited by his position. 

“I thought it was quite nice.” He could feel the look Bad was giving him. “Is high actually like that?”

Sometimes he forgot that Bad wasn’t human, or technically from around here. The man scoffed. “As if. If a loner tried to rise in the ranks, they’d have to change a big part of their personality just to fit in. What she did was unrealistic.”

“Were you a loner in high school, Skeppy?” The demon tilted his head, almost owlish. 

“I- We don’t talk about high school…” 

They relaxed in the silence, comfortable in each other’s company and embrace. 

“Do- Do you… Ah, nevermind.” Bad started, before chickening out. “Forget I said anything.”

“What? No no, go on.”

“It stupid, and weird to ask, but…” He nervously glanced at Skeppy, who was looking at him expectantly. The demon sighed, steeling himself. “Do you want to, um-” He was trying to find the words to not make this sound weird. “Uh…”

“Take your time, it’s all good.” Bless his best friend, the human was so kind and understanding and just generally wonderful.

Bad shifted the wing blanketed over Skeppy, “Uh, for creatures like myself, it's a sign of trust for, um, others to preen your wings. And, you don’t have to! It’s your choice! I was just wondering because, uh, they haven’t really been out like this in a while and they’re kinda messy and it’s hard to reach them sometimes and- But again, not gonna force you into anything just something, if you want. Oh gods, I’m making this so weird- .”

The medium in question seemed to stall out, slightly gaping at his rambling friend. Bad was giving him an opportunity, do the thing he wanted, and he was the one nervous about it?

Okay, okay, answer him before he shuts himself off. But don’t be too eager! Or too dismissive! Just act natural.

“No yeah, oh course, dude! I’d love to! In a non-weird way, yeah? Yeah...” He laughed nervously. What was this, a teenage crush? This was his best friend! Nothing weird; chilling with the homie and touching his wings like he’s wanted to.

…

It’s a good thing he doesn’t have to do this for a living…

“You’re cool with it?” The demon sounded surprised, but the tone hinted on relief and joy. 

“Of course. I mean, I don’t know what exactly to do, but if you need help, I’m always down.” 

Bad sighed, not in an exasperated way, moving his wings away from Skeppy. The man missed the warmth instantly, but sat up to let his friend move to a comfortable position. Once the demon settled, he spoke up.

“So, uh, how do we do this?” 

“Just run your fingers through the feathers, straightening them out and stuff. Don’t worry if any of them are loose and fall out, that’s normal.” The demon did his best to direct the hands behind him, pressing them into the soft layer. “As long as you’re not yanking on anything, it should be fine.”

Skeppy let his hand rest on the material, petting it down as it was some sort of cat. Then, carefully, he dug into the feathers, combing through and letting the silky pieces glide between his fingers. It was weird, nothing like he imagined before, but it was a ‘good’ weird. 

Steadily, he found a silent rhythm. Bad practically melted under the touch, nodding off a few times as he worked. Skeppy wasn’t entirely sure if demons could purr, but if Bad could, he’d be doing it so much right now. True to his word, a few feathers did come loose, floating softly to the ground. When he looked again, the feathers were gone, leaving a fine black dust in their place.

The medium was about to ask about it, but kept his mouth shut, unwilling to disturb the peace, as if doing so would force this moment to end. 

He worked from the base of Bad’s wings, moving down then starting again at the top, just a little to the right. It was about an hour before the demon’s right wing was cleaned up and straightened. Multiple feathers were crooked, and double that had fallen out.

( “It’s been a while since they’ve properly been preened.” Bad admitted sheepishly, “I hadn’t really found anyone to help, and I didn’t want to bother you cause I thought it’d be weird asking out of the blue.”

“Dude, this is actually pretty nice. If you ever need it done again, I’m cool with doing it.” He gave him a bright smile, which the demon returned but softer. )

Skeppy removed his hands from the wing, noticing a black color lightly staining his finger tips. He rubbed his fingers together; the particles felt almost like ash. “Huh.”

“What’s up?” Bad glance over his shoulder, trying to get a better look without moving too much. 

“Nothing just… What’s this dust stuff? It’s all over your wings.”

“Oh! Ah, not really sure. I think it’s mostly to save them from being oily. You know how birds take dust baths?” Skeppy didn’t know that but he nodded nonetheless, “I guess it’s kind of like that. But it’s more ashy because I’m from Hell.”

“ Language , Bad, oh my god.” Skeppy giggled, smirking. He could feel Bad’s eye roll. 

“It doesn’t count as ‘language’ if you’re referring to the place.”

“So what about the word ‘bitch’?”

“ SKEPPY! ”

Two more hours later, Bad’s wings were preened and feeling better than they had in a while. The warm, happy feeling of bonding settled in his chest and spread throughout his being. The last time he was preened was… well, he couldn’t even remember. Not many demons in Hell were willing to do it, and there was too much distrust between them. Sure, he could have gone to his technical ‘family’ (if you could call the being he shared the same species with as such) but most of them avoided being together in large groups. 

Bad wasn’t sure if he missed them or what came before…

Once Skeppy had finished, they decided to call it an early dinner. The man was in the kitchen on the phone, ordering their usual. Bad smiled to himself as he looked on. 

He didn’t know where he’d be without Skeppy. Probably lost, dying under some bridge in the middle of nowhere.  

He owed Skeppy a lot.

The demon hummed to himself as he had a thought. He wasn’t returning to a human form anytime soon, and Skeppy seemed to really like his wings, plus they haven’t been outside all day…

Yeah, that could work .

“One order of dumplings, wonton soup, general sous, eggrolls, lo mein, pork fried rice, and spring rolls?” The guy, probably no more than a year out of college, read off in a bored, nasally voice. 

“Yep, yeah, thanks.” Skeppy nodded, reaching for the bag and handing the guy cash simultaneously. The guy didn’t need to be here any longer than necessary else they risked Bad’s status. “Keep the change.”

And the door slammed in the miserable delivery man’s face without another thought.

“Bad! Food’s here!” Skeppy called out.

The demon in question was already in the kitchen, plates and utensils sitting out, waiting expectantly. He put the plastic and paper bag on the counter, Bad taking no time to begin unloading the contents, setting aside a pair of chopsticks for himself.

“Eager are we?” He joked, grabbing one of the plates and a fork. 

“ ‘m hungry.” Bad opened the container of dumplings, making a point to use the chopsticks to pick one up. 

Skeppy raised a brow. “ Wow, look at me. I’m Bad. I can use chopsticks without looking like a dumbass! ”

Scoffing, he bit into the meat-and-dough, quieting any urges to tell him language. Skeppy laughed freely, scooping out his own food. 

After a few moments of quiet clinking against glass and chewing noises, Bad paused looking up to meet Skeppy’s gaze. 

There’s something about a white eyed demon staring you dead in the eye while you’re eating that makes things awkward. He swallowed slowly, afraid that breaking contact would make this weirder. 

“You okay?” The medium asked, setting down his fork.

“I was wondering… How do you feel about heights?”

“Woah.”

High above, standing on the edge of the apartment complex’s roof, Bad and Skeppy overlooked the city skyline. The sun was low enough in the sky that it’d be gone within the next couple hours, casting darkness over the land. Not that it would last for long. The city lights would cast away the shadows, scaring away the stars, and allowing the extensive cast of night life to come out. 

The sky was painted with deep blues, fiery oranges, and burning reds, blending together for a beautiful sight. The clouds floated by, white fluff tainted by the other aerial colors. 

Needless to say, it was beautiful. 

“So, you never explained what we were doing up here.” Skeppy turned to Bad, curious. The demon’s wings were extended, catching the gentle breeze, gauging its strength.

“I thought we could go flying. As long as that’s okay with you though!” 

“Flying..? Like with your wings, over the city..?” His voice showed his disbelief, eyes wide but excited at the prospect. “Dude, that’d be so cool! Let’s go!”

Was he a little too eager answering? Maybe. Did he care? Not really at the moment, no. 

The demon flapped them once. A simple test. It had been a while since he used them, and to be completely honest, he was a little worried about flying with Skeppy.

What if he dropped him? Would he catch him? Or would Skeppy die-? Bad shook his head to clear the anxious thoughts, face twisting as if the imaginary images had burned him. Imaging the scenarios would do neither of them any good--just need to stay calm and collected.

Stepping closer, Bad put a hand on Skeppy’s shoulder, interrupting the younger’s thoughts. 

“Ready?” He asked, gently. The medium’s stomach rolled with anxiety, as if he was about to board a rollercoaster. 

“Yeah. Let’s go.” Skeppy nodded, stepping away from the edge. “So, uh, how are we EEE-! ”

Shrieks filled the air as he was grabbed and shooting through the air, only stopping when his lungs ran out of air to keep the sound going. “ BAD! WHAT THE HELL?!”

The demon giggled in his ear, trying not to wince at the sharp sting of nails burrowing into the flesh of his forearm, and steadied himself, allowing Skeppy to get a good look at the city below.

Neons and LEDs illuminated the city below, now mere dots from the height they were at. The constant sound of wing beats eased Skeppy’s nerves, counting the seconds between each flap. From up here, it looked like they were viewing the city from some sort of satellite or from an airplane. 

Didn’t make it any less pretty though. 

“Damn…” The hushed word escaped the man’s lips, eyes wide in awe. He could feel Bad nod behind him. 

“It looks so small from up here.” The demon added mutely, tightening his grip on Skeppy slightly who hummed. 

They took in the moment, silent except for the sound of wings keeping them afloat. Once more Skeppy was struck by Bad’s reluctance to use anything related to his demonic form. This was awesome! If he had wings, he’d do this at least three times a week.

That’d be cool… Having wings, being able to fly side by side with Bad…

Unfortunately, mediums aren’t granted that luxury. So instead, he’d enjoy them as another part of his best friend. 

Skeppy yawned, eyes watering a bit. Bad gave him a look. 

“What? Bored already?” He could hear the playful smirk in the demon’s voice.

Playing along, he replied. “Well, I mean, we are just chilling up here doing nothing.”

The demon quirked a brow. “Really? Well, then…”

Skeppy really didn’t like how quiet Bad went. Or how the intervals between wing flaps was increasing. “Bad? What are you doing?!”

“Shh. I’m tired too.”

“BAD?!”

And they plummeted.

Screams rang out, accompanied by laughter, wings folded tight as they dived. Skeppy refused to let go of Bad, yelling for him to ‘stop it’ and that ‘the ground was getting really close!’ 

(It was kinda funny.)

“I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON’T-”

His words were cut off by a sudden jerk and the two of them being forced into the air once more, carried by draft winds. He hated that Bad was still laughing at him.

“Stop it. That wasn’t funny.”

“It was a little funny.”

“No, nope. It wasn’t.”

“Oh c’mon! Not even a little bit?”

A pause; then a mutter:

“Fine, maybe a little bit... But only 14%.”

The demon snickered. “I’ll take that.”

Extra:

“Did you hear that?” The nature spirit looked out the window, away from his room temperature ramen. 

(We’re just gonna ignore the fact that this is the fifth time this week he’s had ramen for dinner.)

That’s probably an echo of your future self, trying to warn you of what I’m going to do to you if you don’t wash the damn dishes.   The ghost looked at the sink with disdain.

“Geez. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

I don’t sleep.

“Well that explains it.”

(He was promptly and accurately hit in the head with one of the dirty, and sorta slimy, plates from the sink. It was very gross.)

Chapter Text

For context, Tommy had been living in the guest room of Phil’s apartment for a month now. 

So when the little gremlin suddenly disappeared, Wilbur was a little surprised. 

Of course, there was a reasonable explanation for this. He could have followed Techno to his next hunt; or maybe he decided to spend some time with the angel he wouldn’t stop gushing about; or, hell, Phil could have brought him along on his business trip. 

No, Wilbur wasn’t salty if that last one was the case.

Besides, Tommy was an imp, a demon . He could take care of himself. Wilbur listened to the child brag about his age enough to know he was over a hundred years old (frankly, it was a miracle he survived on his own that long). Phil had to constantly remind the brunette that just because he was over hundred didn’t mean his mentality followed the same rules, and hence , Tommy was still a child. 

No matter how many times the demonic claimed to be a ‘Big Man’.

Wilbur didn’t see the point in babying him. Maybe the kid had it rough growing up, but he survived this long didn’t he?

In a way, this could be considered Wilbur’s day off.

No shop to man, no gremlin child to watch, no monotone asshole to bother him, and no father telling him to do stuff other than watch Youtube all day. 

Perfect . 

Humming a sweet tune, one that he learned so early in his childhood he didn’t even remember who taught it to him, he made his way down the hall to his room, drink in hand. A bowl of crisps ( chips , as dumb Americans call them) was left on his bed, laptop already open and ready for binging. 

He smiled to himself; Today is great . 

Too bad he nearly dropped his drink on the rug when he stepped into his room.

“What the fuck.”

Annoyance bubbled in his gut, as he glared at the offending creature. “ What the fuck? ”

“No pets. That was Phil’s rule. No pets .” Wilbur practically growled, setting his glass down. “And the fucking gremlin does this .”

What prompted this anger was the scene of, what seemed to be, a dog sitting on his bed, maw wolfing down his bowl of crisps. The dog froze mid-chomp, a crisp hanging from its tongue; it looked at the man with a mix of guilt and fear. The crisp felt back into the bowl and the pup slowly closed its mouth, never breaking eye contact with Wilbur. 

The dog had to be no older than a puppy. Blond-ish fur covered most of its face, forelegs, and back paws. The rest of its fur was a darker, grey-brown mix. Its undercoat peaked through as a white background and filled in where the other colors didn’t. The pup’s ears were pointed, almost reminding him of a german shepherd or maybe a husky. Its eyes were an odd shade of blue and held emotion he wouldn’t think animals were capable of. 

Either way, it was also most likely to be Tommy who had brought the dog home and hid it. Wilbur knows that he absolutely didn’t do it, Phil wasn’t really a fan of pets (and hence why he made the rule), and Techno wouldn’t break Phil’s rules (plus, he already tried when he was younger). 

Wilbur moved forward, snatching up the mutt. The pup gave a small yelp of surprise but went limp in the man’s arms. 

Shifting to hold the dog with one arm, he grabbed his phone with his now free hand. He swiped through his contacts until he found the ‘G’ section. Not a lot of names there, so it was easy to find the one he was looking for. 

Calling… Gremlin Child 👿

The dog squirmed a little, as he put the phone up to his ear, making him tighten his grip. The call rung, and Wilbur swore, if Tommy didn’t pick up-

“JUMP IN THE CADILLAC, GIRL LET’S PUT SOME MILES ON IT. ANYTHING YOU WANT, JUST TO PUT A SMILE ON YOU. YOU DESERVE IT BABY, YOU DESERVE IT ALL, AND I'M GONNA GIVE IT TO YOU-!”

Wilbur stifled a laugh at the song being blasted from the next room over and across the hall. For some reason, the dog seemed to curl in on itself, seemingly in embarrassment. Obviously it didn’t approve of its owner’s music taste either. 

He promptly ended the call. Obviously, Tommy didn’t have his phone on him, wherever he was.

The man sighed, pocketing his phone before bringing up the dog to his eye level with two hands. “Hey little guy,” the dog seemed to glower at him, “you wouldn’t know where your owner went, would you?”

The dog didn’t answer, Wilbur didn’t know why he tried. 

A quick, awkward glance did confirm that this dog was in fact a ‘little guy’ (but gender is a social construct, so who is he to say). He sighed again. “Guess you’re stuck with me until he gets home.”

The pup didn’t seem too thrilled at the idea either.  “Come on, little buddy.”

(Wilbur fell asleep again, despite waking up only an hour or two ago, with the pup snuggled into his side, some Minecraft video still playing in front of him.)

Hours later, Wilbur woke up once more to the sound of asmr. He blearily blinked at the screen, watching as some lady bit into a banana and smacked her lips near the microphone. He quickly cringed before exiting the tab, shutting the laptop. How long was he out to fall that far down the rabbit hole?

Something warm wiggled against his side, a soft whine coming from the ball of fur. 

Right. Tommy’s dog. 

“I gotta call you something, don’t I?” The pup slowly blinked at him, still sleepy. Wilbur cooed at the sight of him snuggling back into the warmth of the man. “Imma call you Fluff.”

The pup protested with a light growl, head shooting back up to fix Wilbur with an offended glare. If looks could kill… 

“If Tommy named you something else, I’ll call you that, but as of right now, I cannot get into contact with Tommy and so you are Fluff.” Wilbur smiled, running a hand through the dog’s soft coat. Fluff leaned into the touch happily, before remembering he was supposed to be angry at the brown haired man. 

“Oh, don’t give me that look. Tommy’ll be home in no time.” He pushed himself to his knees, moving the blankets. “Now, how about some breakfast?” 

Noon turned to dusk and still no sign of Tommy.

No, Wilbur wasn’t worried, stop it. There was probably a reasonable explanation for it, plus if the child suddenly disappeared and never came back, he wouldn’t be bothered; in fact, he’d celebrate! 

(The man couldn’t help but run through different, possible scenarios of what may have happened, whether the demonic was attacked or killed or even kidnapped by those supernatural poachers Phil loathed... Wilbur may have worried a little bit...)

Nonetheless, with no sign of the imp, Wilbur decided to do the rational thing: call his family. If Tommy was with Tubbo, he would have been home by now; but he wasn’t, so it was best to check with his father and brother. 

Now Calling… Tech 🔪🔥

It rang a few times before Wilbur’s ears were greeted with the familiar monotone of his brother’s voice. 

“Yeah?”

“Hey, did you bring Tommy with you?”

He heard a scoff, “Why would I bring Tommy with me?”

The brunette moved towards the couch, Fluff on his heels. “I don’t know, but he hasn’t come home yet, and it’s late-”

“What are you? His mother?” Wilbur rolled his eyes in vain since Techno was unable to see him. 

‘ He always does this ,’ he mouthed to the dog looking up at him. Though Wilbur looked away too soon, the pup seemed to grin, a flash of humor in his eyes. 

“No it’s just-” He glanced at Fluff briefly, “He left something here that he should come back and take care of.” 

He heard Techno sigh on the other side of the line. “Well, he’s not with me. But I’ll be home by tomorrow morning, okay?” The hunter paused, “Don’t worry about it. He can take care of himself; wouldn’t have kept him around so long if he couldn’t.”

Wilbur couldn’t quite tell if this was Techno’s attempt at a joke or not. Either way, he grumbled into the phone, “I’m not worried about him. I just want him to come back and take care of… his thing .”

“Sureee…” Despite being states apart, the man could feel his brother’s unimpressed look. “Whatever. I’ll see you soon, Wil.”

“Bye Techno.” And he hung up. 

(The cold hunter wouldn’t admit to it, but the possibility of Tommy being missing sent pangs of concern down his spine; and maybe he drove a little faster…)

His conversation with Techno didn’t leave him feeling any lighter about the situation. Tommy was still missing and Wilbur was worried that Phil would deliver him the same news. 

Best to get to it , Wilbur positioned himself to flop back on the couch, dialing his father.

Now Calling… Dadza 💚

“Ello.” He picked up on the second ring, must not be too busy then. 

“Hey dadza,” Wil couldn’t help but grin into the phone, “How’s business?” 

“Same as always.” A pause. “Everything okay back home?”

Wilbur faintly drummed his fingers along the side of the device. “I mean, kinda? Is Tommy with you?”

“No, why? Is he missing?”

“I mean…” He pursed his lips, “Kind of? You know what, he’s probably fine. I should go now, let you get back to business.”

“Wil-” Beep, beep, beep.  

(Phil pulled the phone away from his ear after Wilbur hung up, a look of surprise on his face. Sure, there was a reasonable explanation for Tommy’s disappearance, and the kid was probably fine, but Phil couldn’t help the fatherly instincts that yelled at him to finish up the trades and transactions so he could get home.)

Okay, so neither Techno nor Phil knew where the gremlin was, and he most definitely wasn’t with Tubbo if he hadn’t come home yet. The man went to pet Fluff, who in turn grumbled contently, closing his eyes. 

Maybe the kid would show up in the morning… Yeah… 

Grabbing the pup (who protested the sudden movement with a light whine), Wilbur made his way down the hall and towards his bedroom. The only thing they could do now was sleep on it and hope for the best…

Wilbur had slept through the night with Fluff snuggled into his side. At first the dog seemed hesitant, but an encouraging pat next to him seemed to do the trick. He probably missed his annoying owner. 

Some time during the night, Wilbur was startled awake by an unfamiliar weight on his chest only to find the pile of blondish-gray fur sprawled out on top of him. He couldn’t help but discreetly snap a picture of the adorableness. He’d show Tommy in the morning.

Tommy was not there the following morning.

While Wilbur was making them breakfast, Fluff seemed to sense his anxiety, and hesitantly pushed himself against the human’s leg in a comforting motion. Right, and if Tommy was gone -gone, who was going to take care of Fluff? Phil most definitely wouldn’t let him keep the pup but he didn’t want to just give the little guy to some pet shelter. He’d grown too fond of him. 

Wilbur sighed. If Tommy managed to hide a dog from Phil for who knows how long, then maybe he could too. He’d have to get supplies though; leash, dog food, bowls--what else do dogs need? Maybe Tommy had some stuff in his room…

The sound of a door knob turning with a small click interrupted his thoughts. Fluff picked his head up in curiosity, watching the main door that led to the shop downstairs.

With minimum creaking, the door opened, revealing a tired looking, pink haired man. The dark bag that was slung over his shoulder was promptly dropped as soon as he took two steps through the door. Techno shuffled down the hall, towards his room, paying no mind to his brother and the creature chilling on the vinyl floor. 

“Good morning to you too!” The brunette called out to the pink haired hunter, sarcasm dripping from every word. All he received was a faint grunt and the slamming of a door. Wilbur glanced down at the dog, both wondering if he should hide him and what put Techno into such a grumpy mood. 

A few hours later, Techno finally emerged again, long hair tangled and free across his shoulders. Obviously, when he went to sleep, he didn’t bother to change into something more comfortable; or maybe the outfit was already comfortable enough, who knows. 

“Good morning.” Wilbur sipped at his sweetened coffee, staring at the tv with such ferocity, Techno was surprised he even knew he came in.

“Morning,” Techno echoed, walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge. 

“How was the hunt?”

“Eh, guess it went okay.” He rummaged around, pushing aside boxes and bottles before deciding on grabbing the gallon of milk. Cereal for brunch it was. The fridge closed with a quiet click. “The drive was the worst part.”

Wilbur only hummed, slowly returning his attention to the show currently playing. From the kitchen, Techno could see a woman and man arguing in heated tones, but that narrowed down the name of the show to about 200 possibilities. He grabbed the cereal from it’s special place in the cabinet, surprised to find it halfway gone. 

Nobody actually liked the cereal except for Techno, and he coveted it as the one of the only foods he didn’t have to share with his father or brother. But knowing the ‘new member’ of their family, the demonic child probably got into it… Again... 

As far as he knew, Tommy wasn’t actually a fan of it, he just ate it to be a nuisance. 

Speaking of the demonic child…

“So, still no sign of Tommy?” He saw Wilbur stiffen, decidedly staying silent. “I’mma take that as a ‘no’.” 

“Like you said yesterday, he’s probably fine.”

The pieces of cereal clattered into the bowl, filling it to the top edge. He then poured the milk in, as normal people do. He brought his bowl to the couch, so he could sit next to Wilbur and whatever drama show he was binging now. 

“That’s not what you sounded like yesterday when you-” Techno stopped in his tracks, eyes widening, mouth slightly agape, at the creature curled into his brother’s side, “called... me…”

Wilbur didn’t realize his mistake until the tense silence became too much. 

“Is-Is that a..?” The man looked surprised, however hints of excitement bled through. It made sense, considering the hunter had always wanted a dog, ever since they were little. For a moment, Wilbur feared that Techno was going to make a run for the dog and snatch the poor thing up. (He’s pretty sure that would give Fluff a heart attack.)

Suddenly, he was a little too aware of the ball of fur on the couch and Techno’s shocked eyes boring into him. Slowly he met Techno’s gaze.

“I can explain everything?” He tried with a sheepish grin. 

The hunter set down his bowl on the coffee table before flopping back on the couch next to him. He never broke eye contact. Instead of picking up his bowl again, Techno crossed his arms and leveled his elder brother a mildly amused look. 

“You better.”

About half an hour and one finished bowl of cereal later, Technoblade had been enlightened to the situation and was looking at the dog with a mix of amusement, excitement, and delight. 

He rubbed the dog’s head lightly, heart warming as the pup leaned into it with a happy thump of his tail. Then he froze in confusion, almost mortification, at his tail wagging. Techno continued to pet the dog, smirking as he received the same reaction as before; Fluff seemed to be a little more disgruntled, placing a paw on his traitor tail. 

“Phil’s not gonna let us keep him.” Techno managed to keep the dog from wiggling away from his grasp. He was gentle though, hugging Fluff to his chest, something Wilbur rarely saw from the hunter. 

Wilbur shrugged. “We’re responsible adults,” (He ignored Techno’s snort of laughter,) “It’ll be more convincing now than when we were kids.” The man paused, a smirk growing on his face, “Plus… I think if his favorite begged dear old dad to keep him, he’ll cave almost instantly.”

The hunter scoffed and leveled him a look. “I’m not his favorite.” 

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m not!”

“Obviously, you’re blind.”

“I believe you’re the blind one here.” 

“Wow. Such a clever comeback!”

He gave another snort of laughter. “If I was the blind one, then how come I noticed that Fluff is a wolf, not a dog.”

… What?

Wilbur went rigid, gaping like a fish, trying to find his thoughts and put them into words. “I- umm- uhh, could-could you repeat that for me? Please?”

Techno narrowed his eyes in confusion, “What? That Fluff is a wolf pup? Not a dog?”

The other man simply stayed silent, trying to process the new, and very crucial, information. From an outsider’s perspective, the man looked like he just found out his brother is a higher deity or something.

“Are you serious? How could you have not noticed?” The pink haired man smirked, huffing a light laugh. “Seriously?! You didn’t know this is a wolf?”

“I-” Wilbur was still wrapping his brain around it. “How… How do you know?”

Techno brought the pup, the wolf pup , up to eye level. “Well, for one, the fur: it’s agouti. Typically domestic dogs don’t have that. Also, just his general build is different from a dog’s; similar, sure, but there’s a few differences.” At Wilbur’s questioning look, he added, “Werewolves and wolf shifters. You gotta learn what their other forms look like to know what they look like.”

Wilbur nodded, watching as Techno observed Fluff closer. “The eyes throw it off though. Wolves don’t typically have blue eyes, that’s a dog trait. I mean, maybe when they're puppies, but Fluff doesn’t look that young. And he’s surprisingly well-behaved.” 

“I mean, Tommy did bring him home… Maybe he’s like a special wolf or something.” Wilbur suggested with a shrug. “Or maybe he’s a wolf-dog-thing…”

“Did you test him for magic?” Wilbur went silent again. “Bruh. That’s like rule number one when it comes to strange creatures that show up out of nowhere!”

“I didn’t think about that! Geez!” He threw his arms in the air. “I was a little preoccupied with Tommy’s sudden disappearance! Plus, it kinda acts like a dog! I mean, I don’t know; I’ve never had a dog before!”

“Just because it acts like a dog doesn’t mean it is a dog ! This is common sense!”

The two men continued to raise their voices. Fluff carefully watched them, seeming to consider the idea of running off to save his ears. Unfortunately, he was grabbed away from Techno before he could enact his escape.

Wilbur held the pup to show his brother. “Look at him- he’s so cute! How could this be some killer monster?”

“Fairly easily; it could be a facade.”

“He hasn’t tried to hurt anyone yet!” He brought the poor creature closer to himself. “Please?”

Techno breathed a heavy, exasperated sigh. “We still need to test him for magic. Just as a precaution.”

“And if he’s clean, we can keep him?”

The hunter paused, though his brother could tell he was warring with himself internally. To keep the pup or to not keep the pup, that is the question. (To be honest, Techno was all for keeping Fluff). “You’re gonna have to take that one up with Phil.”

“I think we can convince him.” Wilbur grinned as Techno huffed a laugh. He maneuvered Fluff to face him, booping the pup’s nose with his own before he pitched his voice up a few octaves. “ And how could Phil say no to this cutie! ”

“Say no to what ‘ cutie ’?” The boys (and Fluff) shot up to look at the door. Panic crossed their faces as they quickly tried to shield the canine from their father’s gaze. The old man simply raised a brow. “Uhh… am I interrupting something?”

“No, no. Everything’s good, um-” Wilbur pressed his lips together, racking his brain for something to say. “Mmm- I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow…”

Phil walked further into the apartment, towards the kitchen; his boys followed the man’s movements with their heads. He set down a canvas bag, beginning to unload the contents. There was no way he didn’t see Fluff; the man wasn’t blind! When the two were younger, they could’ve sworn their father had a third eye or something, considering all the things they failed to hide from him. 

“Well, that was the plan. But I managed to wrap everything up quickly when you called and told me Tommy was missing.” He paused in his unpacking, looking up at them with a kind smile. “But it looks like you’ve already found him.”

“What do you mean?” Wilbur tilted his head. Techno stayed quiet, slowly piecing together the evidence, before his eyes widened slightly. Like he knew what was going on, but he was trying to pretend like it wasn’t true.

“Tommy.” Phil pointed between him and Techno, where Fluff had decided to show himself, “He’s right there.”

… You have got to be kidding me.

For the third time, in the span of two days, the world stopped as these revelations slammed into Wilbur. By the way Techno stiffened next to him, he was feeling the same. 

Wilbur grabbed Fluff- Tommy semi-harshly, bringing him upwards to get confirmation from Phil. “Hold on, hold on- You mean Fluff, Fluff right here, is actually Tommy?! ” 

“Uhh, yeah?” Phil tilted his head, almost amused. “You mean you two didn’t know?”

The brothers glanced at each other, then back to their father, before Wilbur turned the changed imp to face him. “Why didn’t you say anything?!”

Tommy ( the wolf pup-how did he not realize sooner?! ) only glared in response. But it could easily be translate to ‘ I’m a fucking dog; how would I speak, you stupid bitch. ’ 

Wilbur groaned in annoyance. He’s been snuggling with the little monster for the past 24 hours… Gods, this was embarrassing. When Tommy was back in normal, human form, he would never hear the end of this. 

“Can he just stay in puppy form? He’s much cuter this way, and less annoying.” Tommy decided to bite the brunette’s fingers, making the man yelp and almost drop him. “Dammit! I take it back! You can go live on the streets, mutt!” 

Phil shook his head with a fond, albeit tired, smile as he finished unpacking his bag. Afterwards, he walked around the marble top island into the living room. He reached out for Tommy (who Wilbur gladly gave up) and cradled him in his arms. The imp squirmed in the position-he was not some fucking child, gods-but eventually settled once it was clear he wasn’t going anywhere. 

( Being in this form sucked. )

“So, I’m guessing you’re stuck.” Phil moved towards his grey-ish green armchair, sitting down with the demonic on his lap. Tommy opened his maw as if to speak before closing it with a click and simply nodding. “I’ll see what I can do to help you out then…” 

There was an ever present look of fondness in Phil’s eyes, though hints of sadness seeped through. This kid barely understood his abilities and it wasn’t like there were many imps in the Floridian city to teach him anything. The blond man sighed, before scratching Tommy behind his ear, grinning at the way the demonic melted into the touch before shrinking in embarrassment. 

“Don’t worry mate, you’ll be back to normal in no time.”

Wilbur snickered, recovering quickly from the shock. “There is no such thing as ‘normal’ with Tommy.” 

The imp in question could only protest with an offended bark.

EXTRA:

It’s been a few weeks since the whole “wolf pup” incident (or as Wilbur liked to call it: “the only time Tommy will ever be cute”).

Tommy, with Philza’s help, returned to his regular human form. To which he was teased about to no end by both Wilbur and Techno. He tried to transform again a few times, but each attempt remained futile. 

Surprisingly early one morning, Wilbur walked into the kitchen of their flat. Sunlight streamed through the shades. He needed to open the shop soon, in about an hour or so--damn it was early.

It was so early, it took the man at least three minutes to process the sight in front of him.

A fucking raccoon sat perched on the counter top, its grubby little hand frozen mid-grab in the bag of Techno’s cereal. 

Wilbur stared at the frozen critter before groaning and turning his head down the hall.

“DAAAADD! TOMMY DID IT AGAIN!”

Chapter Text

Dream had returned to the apartment two days ago, and the amount of time he spent sleeping during them put George’s sleeping habits to shame. 

And that’s saying a lot. 

Needless to say, it was a pleasant surprise when a tall man with the worst case of bedhead ever seen came stumbling out of his room, towards the kitchen.

“Morning, Dream.” The shorter brunet yawned taking a sip of coffee as he watched Dream move behind him.

The demonic only responded with a rumbling hum, eyes closed, settling his chin on the crown of George’s head. 

“How was your trip?”

He only grumbled again, wrapping his arms around the man.

“Woah! Hey! What’s up with you?” He tried not to laugh, face flushing pink at the proximity. Dream wasn’t typically this affectionate; maybe bumping shoulders or pressing into him, but not like this. This could be considered weird.

(Nevermind the fact that living with a demon you accidentally summoned could be considered strange as well.)

He tried to pull away, or at least slip out of his grasp, but the hug tightened, anchoring him to Dream’s chest. Some coffee plopped onto the counter, splattering a bit. 

George sighed. It was going to be a long day, wasn’t it?

Dream coming into his life was one of the craziest things that has ever happened. And for good reason, it may have been the best things too. 

The incident was memorable. 

It was late in the evening, the city still bustling with civilians and cars alike. American cities tended to be a lot busier than the ones he was used to, back home. Luckily, his apartment, while cheap, was in one of the quieter parts. 

(One of the only reasons it seemed so quiet was that there also seemed to be a large amount of gang influence. That may have also factored into why the flat was so cheap in the first place.)

His new home was too small and cramped, in his opinion. Complete with a full bathroom and two bedrooms, you’d expect more out of it. Except it seemed more like the builders had an idea but they were forced to squish it into such a tiny space. Cardboard boxes served as various tables and desks, nevermind what was supposed to be inside them. Maybe it would help if he unboxed them; it’s been a few months after all. A cat chilled in the sink, fur no longer matted or as scarily skinny as it once was. 

Poor thing, honestly. George had found it clambering through trash cans and in a turn of pity, he decided to bring it in. He made a vet appointment for him and soon enough he was signing paperwork to keep Beckerson. 

It was nice to have a roommate though; even if they couldn’t really converse with him...

Outside, neon lights buzzed and blinked, like in those cliche sketchy, dark alleys that led to some illegal gambling ring or a bar where assassins and hired guns frequented. The stench of cigarettes and alcohol fumed in the air--the main reason he kept the windows locked tight; nobody wanted to choke on that. 

The young man sighed, leaning back into the ratty couch that came with the place. It would only be a few years…

He came to the US for college. The school was promising and had a fairly low price, so he was game. Also, there was just something about the city that piqued his interest. It definitely wasn’t interesting--no historical significance, nor was it populated by something or someone mainstream--it was a ‘nothing city.’ 

But there was this pull… Like if he didn’t go, he’d be missing out on something big…

American college brought its own challenges; namely the Americans . 

(He swears, if someone asks about his accent or to say some ridiculous phrase one more time, he might commit homicide.)

However, he did manage to meet at least one “decent” person: Sapnap, an undeclared from Texas who wanted to get away from his parents and do something new. 

The Texan could be a bit loud at times, but he meant well. Mostly. In fact, Sapnap introduced him to his friends, such as Skeppy and his friend Bad. 

(Skeppy and Bad were an interesting duo. Apparently they hadn’t known each other for too long, but they acted like an old married couple. He found it funny.) 

“ Georgeeee! ” His friend whined, dragging out the word. “Why does your apartment suck so much?”

He scoffed, grabbing his text book off a cardboard box and opening it to the bookmarked page. They were currently reviewing for Sapnap’s math test that was in a few days, but frankly, both were on their last legs. 

“It was cheap. I’m saving money.”

Sapnap let out a dramatic, high whine again, earning a bang on the ceiling and a muffled yell of what they assumed was “ Shut the fuck up! ”

Both men paused, glancing toward the source before cracking smiles and laughing. Some more ceiling banging occurred but they ignored it. 

The amused Texan sighed, a small smile gracing his features, bringing his phone up to check the time. “Damn, it’s late. I gotta head back to the dorms.”

“What, got a curfew or something?” George closed the book with a sharp clap, returning it to his pseudo-side table. 

“Kinda. They don’t like people roaming the halls after 10.” He patted George’s leg before pushing himself to his feet and grabbing his backpack in one smooth motion. 

“Got everything?”

“Yes, mom.” Sapnap walked towards the door with a cheeky smile. 

“Shut up. I don’t want you leaving your shit at my place. Go away.”

“Pfft-” The door creaked as it was opened. “See you tomorrow, dude.”

“Bye. Don’t get yourself killed.”

“Aww. You care!”

“Nevermind, I take it back. Get hit by a bus.”

“Love you too, Gogy.” The British man rolled his eyes as the door shut with a surprisingly loud click. Somedays…

Welp. Time to clean up. 

The two weren’t particularly messy. Some drops of pizza grease on the counter from dinner, things shoved around to make room for each other, a weird leather bound book hiding under the couch, and a few cat toys Sapnap brought over for Beckerson.

... Wait a minute.

George turned back to the book, half hidden by the couch, realising that Sapnap must have left it. He sighed in annoyance. So he did leave something here after all!

He picked it up, off the floor, turning it so he could find some sort of identifier on the cover. 

“Huh.” It was blank. Nothing to identify it. Maybe it was Sapnap’s diary or something like that?

A silent voice encouraged him to open it, find out what was inside. Sate your curiosity. It can’t be too bad, right? Plus he left it here, if he didn’t-

Nope. Didn’t like that voice.

He put the book down next to the sink, Beckerson looking in a mild daze. George rubbed the spot between the cat’s head and ear, smiling as he leaned into his palm. 

He’d have to return the book to Sapnap later. 

The book was calling him. 

Not in like a creepy, haunted way, more so that he had no idea what was in it and he wanted to know. 

The apartment was clean, Beckerson was fed, everything to be done was done. Sleep was out of the question with the restless energy building under his skin. He wanted to do something, anything . 

Somehow, he found himself staring at the book set on the counter, basically pleading to be opened. 

George glanced from side to side around the room, as if checking for someone else. Well, I mean, there shouldn’t be anyone else there considering his last guest left like an hour ago and it was almost midnight. 

Whatever.

Mystery Book Time.

The leather was rough under his fingers, the pages crinkling slightly everytime they were turned. Pen ink marked the pages with handwriting that was decidedly not Sapnap’s. Many it was a heirloom or something; it seemed old enough to be. Sketches of monsters and foreign creatures were depicted on some of the pages. They were a bit rough but they gave a detailed enough description. He didn’t think Sapnap would be into that kind of stuff.

His hand settled on one page.

‘Dream Demon ’

The picture under the title was blurry with water damage, smudging a few words as well, but he could make out a decent chunk of the text. 

‘ These demons come from the Dreamscape (hence their names), a realm that connects the human consciousnesses together. Not much is known about the Dreamscape and any attempts to question one of the natives ends up in failure.’

‘These creatures main goal is to’ (The rest of the section is too blurred to make out.)

‘Dream Demons have the ability to manipulate this plane as well as their own forms. It was originally believed that they could only shapeshift within the plane but they are able to change in the Mortal Realm as well. Some, most likely more powerful demons, have proven to have the ability to force people to sleep and conjure minor illusions.’

‘In order to rid yourself of’

The text is finally too damaged to read. 

George grimaced. That was quite possibly the worst place for it to get ruined. 

Foreign words were written on the next page, and he had half the mind to recognize them as Latin. He couldn’t understand a lick of it though. Seriously, if he hadn’t watched a few occult films with friends back home, he would have thought them to be a bunch of random letters squished together to make it look like real words.

The man looked around the apartment once more. Why? Don’t know-- it’s not like someone was gonna jump out of the nearest shadow and shout at him to ‘No! Don’t do it! You’ll doom us all!’

(He waited another moment to make sure just that didn’t happen.)

When no such thing occurred, he turned back to the book. A little curiosity never killed anyone…

Yeah… Right .

And so he slowly read out the words, growing louder as he continued on. 

“ Veni ad me, daemon. Subveni me, creatura somni somniorumque. Da tuam vim; consquere meum mandatum. Ostende te ipsam! Veni ad me! ”

…

Nothing happened. 

For the third time that night he glanced around. Yeah no, still no demon.

To be fair, he wasn’t expecting much to happen either. Demons, ghosts, werewolves; they’re all just stories to scare the masses and bring in money. The little summoning thing was a dud. 

The muffled banging on the ceiling was back however. “KNOCK IT OFF! SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO SLEEP! ”

“Sorry!” He called up, a little sheepish. Right, other people lived here. Maybe he should go to bed too…

Walking toward his meager bedroom, he turned out the rest of the apartment lights and turned on the one in his room. A yawn escaped him, as he stretched his arms. Did he have school tomorrow? He couldn’t remember. Probably. He needed to give Sapnap’s weird book back too. Wonder if Sapnap is really into that-

The man froze, mid-thought, looking at his bed.

“Hi.” Said the pale ass creature laying on his side, head propped up with an arm, on his bed, smiling cheek to cheek like some kind of freaking shark.

George screamed.

“Dream, I have to shower, go away.” The brunet pushed the demon away, who protested by pushing closer and letting out a small whine. God, why was he being so clingy? “Dude, seriously. Why are you being so needy right now?”

He didn’t answer, only looking at him with sad, kicked puppy eyes.

“No, don’t do that. Just cause you’re being weird doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want. I still have stuff to do.” He tried pushing him away again, the demon finally complying but with a completely dejected look. “Look, I’m meeting up with Sapnap today. We can chill later, okay?”

It’s been a few months since he accidentally summoned Dream. Life’s definitely been different, but more interesting. He still didn’t reveal Dream’s demonic status to Sapnap yet--hell, he hasn’t even introduced the two. 

George and Bad had talked about it, but they decided that they’d do it on their own time, when they felt comfortable enough. 

As he said before: it’s been a few months…

One hot shower (and by hot, he meant slightly warmer than usual, because his water heating was shit) and a change of clean clothes later, he heard a knock on the door. That should be Sapnap.

Then Dream started walking towards the door. 

At first, he didn’t think much of it; Dream was just getting the door to welcome his friend inside. Then he remembered that the two had never met, and that there was a reason for that.

Shit.  

“ Dream! No! ” He whisper-yelled and rushed for the demon, accidentally tripping on the rug and falling with a thud. George let out a sharp hiss of pain, calling Dream’s attention. 

“George! Gifs flb viz? Bzpl flb viz? ” The demon rushed over, abandoning the door and fussing like a mother hen.

“Dude, I’m fine-”

“George?” The addressed man froze at the muffled words through the door. “I’m coming in, so you better not be doing something weird.”

“Sapnap! Wait-!” He couldn’t let him see Dream. Dream needed to hide. Oh no, oh shit-

The door opened.

“...What the hell?” Sapnap paused in the doorway.

“Look, I can explain. Just don’t freak out okay?”  George started rising to his feet. “Uhh, I wanted to tell you sooner but I didn’t know how to explain…”

“What? That you got a dog too?”

“Huh?”

It was at that moment, when George’s mind was free from panic, that he noticed there was no large human shaped presence next to him. Instead, a white and pale copper (not that George could really tell) Siberian Husky pressed into his side, eyeing Sapnap with strangely green (again, not that George could tell they were green) eyes. 

“Uh… Yeah? Yeah. I did.” He considered his next words. “His-His name is Dream.”

“ Dream? ” Sapnap smirked, watching friend finally get to his feet, like he knew something George didn’t. Which couldn’t be the case right? Sapnap still had no idea Dream was a demon. 

“Yep.”

“Okay then.”

Yeah, definitely has no clue.

The universe hates him, doesn’t it?

George and Sapnap, accompanied by Dream (at Sapnap’s insistence) were sitting at one of the outside tables of what seemed to be the only cafe they ever went to. Don’t get him wrong, the little place was great, but he doesn’t think they’ve ever gone to another one.

Also, according to Skeppy, things always happen here; ‘The Revelation Cafe’ as he put it. 

God, he hopes that it doesn’t hold true to its name.

“When did you even get Dream? Did you find him in a dumpster, like Beckerson?” Sapnap picking off a piece of his bear claw. George didn’t know what they were made of, but they did not look particularly healthy. 

“Uh, you know, yeah.” He was stalling. C’mon, think. Uhh- Alley. Yeah, let’s go with that. “I found him in an alley… At night…”

“Oh?”

“Yep. He’s an alley dog, almost bit me… Cause they do that when they’re… Feral?” Dream bristled at the statement; not at being called feral, but more like he was offended at the idea that he would bite George. The dog laid his head on top of George’s feet in protest. 

Sapnap looked at the man with an incredulous look before snorting. And suddenly, the Texan’s laughter couldn’t be contained. Passing civilians only spared them a glance at the loud noises.

Dream and George shared a look, both of equal questioning and concern. 

“ That-! That was the most bullshit story I’ve ever heard!” He gasped for breath, nudging the plate with his pastry to the side. “Seriously- Children have bs-ed better than you just now!”

A low warning growl sounded from the floor, green eyes glaring. 

“Geez, sorry, sorry. Chill, dog-boy.” The growling ceased, but the glare only intensified. 

“How long have you known?” The brunet finally questioned, face slightly flushed after being laughed at. 

“For a while, to be honest.” He brought his bear claw back, poking at the dough. “I was using a protection charm for a little bit and it flared up once I got to your apartment, since he was there.” He pointed to Dream. “So, I started paying closer attention everytime I was over, and connected the dots from there. How long has he been here, by the way?”

George sighed. “I accidentally summoned him that night when you left your book at my place.”

That earned a brow raise from the other and a small whistle. “Wow. So it’s been a while… Is he the reason it’s so clean?” 

“I- I don’t know whether to be offended or not.”

Sapnap laughed, taking another bite. “He’s a Dream Demon, right?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?” 

He shrugged. “Process of elimination. Not many demons can shapeshift like that, also that book doesn’t have many summoning spells--actually…” The raven haired man paused. “Why would you even read a spell out loud? You could have summoned something so much worse!”

“I don’t know! I didn’t think anything would happen!” 

“Oh my god, George- Haven’t you watched any horror movies?!”

“Yeah, but still! I didn’t think anything would happen! Plus, Dream is practically harmless… Mostly… Okay, I might have lost a few days of restful sleep, but it’s fine.”

“You are such an idiot.” A growl. “I meant that in an endearing way.”

George hummed. “He’s been weird today, though. More clingy.”

“They’re instinctual habits.” Sapnap started to explain, “He cares about you, so he’s protective. Maybe something happened that put those instincts first and made it hard to manage them.” 

“Oh, huh. Maybe…” He glanced at the dog, who was watching the street, ears twitching with each sound.

Sapnap reached over to pat his friend on the shoulder. “It’s fine, he’ll be back to normal in no time. Probably.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” He ripped another piece off, and threw one at Dream. “I’ve always wanted a demon friend.”

George chuckled, sipping at his forgotten drink. “Oh, then you should talk to Bad sometime soon…”

Extra:

“So, how was your trip?” George was glad that Dream was a little more like himself now. Whatever happened yesterday was weird as hell and he didn’t want to go through it again. “What was it even for, by the way?”

The demon let out a long, exasperated groan. Not at George though. “ Gods. There was this guy with, like, bubblegum pink hair? Like he was some sort of anime character or something…”

“What happened?”

Dream paused, then mumbled something intelligible.

“What was that?”

He bit his lip, and repeated softly, eyes low in shame. “ I got my ass kicked by a guy with anime pink hair… ”

George paused, shocked. Then he burst out laughing. “Haha, rip!”

“ IT’S NOT FUNNY! ”

Extra 2:

A few days later, when the two were hanging out again, Sapnap agreed to let George look through the book (though he didn’t doubt his friend had already gone through every bit of it while it was still in his possession).

“Huh, that’s weird.” He turned upon hearing the words spoken softly.

“What’s weird?”

“There's a page torn out of the book.” George turned it to show him. True to his word, he saw the torn edges disappearing into the book’s spine. 

Eyes narrowed, he took the book to inspect it closer. The missing page definitely wasn’t lost in the duration it had been his; it was ripped out long before Sapnap was even born. 

“Karl!” He called out suddenly, George jumping slightly. 

“Who’s Karl?”

“I’ll explain later.”

A slim creature poked his head through the wall, looking at him curiously. Sapnap beckoned him over, to which he eagerly did; hopping through spots in the air as if there were invisible platforms. The familiar was a beautiful kind of strange, his smooth and rounded body was almost feline in a sense, but more flowing--almost like a liquid condensed to a form. Colors shimmered between deep purples, greens, and blues similar to that glitter powder that went in your drinks to make it look cool. 

Karl’s eyes were a weird pale purply-orange that shifted between the hues, shifting too fast for anyone to place the true color. Actually, there might not even be a name for it. A solid purple band hung around the creature’s neck, a circular half orb embedded into the material with a green spiral behind it. 

George gaped at the familiar landing easily on Sapnap’s shoulder. The Texan simply smiled at his helper.

“Hey Karl, can you do your time thingy and see if you can get this page back?” He held the open book towards him, letting the creature inspect it. Finally looking up, Karl nodded before disappearing with a blip .

The British man was still staring. Karl looked like he did one of those things in cartoons where the character spun into themself and disappeared. 

It was hard to comprehend. 

“Ah, great, thank you.” While George was still processing, Karl had come back and returned to his spot on Sapnap’s shoulder, a sheet of slightly yellowed paper in his mouth. The man took it carefully, not yet looking at it. “Pizza good for dinner tonight?” A pause, as if they were mentally communicating with each other. “Great. I’ll let you go now. Thanks.”

Without a sound, Karl disappeared once more.

“Dude, your face-” He laughed at George’s flabbergasted expression.

“ What the hell was that?! ” 

“That was Karl, my familiar. He’s pretty cool right? He’s especially helpful when I lose my keys; and my wallet; and my phone; and-”

“I- Whatever. Nevermind. What’s the page say?” If you ignore the oddity and don’t think about it, it’s all fine right?

“Oh yeah, um…” He scanned the words, frowning as he continued to read on.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“This… This is…” He finally looked up, a dark look on his face. “George. This is quite possibly one of the most important documents in the magic community. I imagine there was a reason someone wanted it out of the records…”

Sapnap sat next to George, handing him the page. The man froze upon taking it and looking at the sketch.

“Wait. That-That looks like…”

“What?” Now it was Sapnap’s turn to be confused, eyebrows furrowed. 

George put the paper down on the coffee table and met his friend’s gaze, concern evident in his brown eyes. 

From the paper, a pitch black mass glared at the ceiling with pale, blank eyes...

Chapter Text

The demonic folded her hands, elbows leaning on the table in front of her, striking eyes carefully watching. Hellish heat pressed against the patches of scales decorating her skin, which would have been uncomfortable if you weren’t used to it. 

Across from her stood the Overseer and the cambion representative of that Hunter Society. 

The Overseer didn’t seem to care about being called to her private office, almost bored. But she wasn’t oblivious to the way his fingers twitched, almost itching for a bottle of whiskey to calm his nerves. What did the ram have to fear of a snake? A lot when a single bite could end his existence, he had easily learned early in his life. 

The cambion remained stoic, unbothered by the call in. Their hair was braided neatly behind them, the scent of human, harpy, and blood clinging to their clothes and flesh. A Hunter in charge of their own regional division, quite an odd job for a creature of supernatural origin (some would consider it disgraceful or traitorous, on both sides of the spectrum). Unfortunately, they were Hell’s major connection to the Hunters in the Mortal Realm. 

“M’lady?” The cambion inquired, the silence having gone on for a long time. The Overseer threw them a cautious, warning glance. 

“What do we know of today’s event?”

The Overseer nodded, “My guys in the Overworld reported a feeling of their power draining… Then a sudden surge of magic energy.” He paused, licking his lips in the dry heat; “A few of them said that the energy was too much. It left many of them disoriented.” 

She nodded, then looked at the other attendee.

They cleared their throat. “Uh, the first time-”

“There’s a first time?” She raised a brow, shining eyes boring into the cambion.

“Ah, yes.” They nodded. “About a month ago or so, I had come home after a trip to Hell when I was overcome with a sapping feeling. It was like… suddenly my being was removed from my body and then pushed back in.” 

They looked to her, silently asking if they should continue. She nodded, “What happened after that?”

“I-I passed out and suffered a minor head injury. I was out for a day or two after that. It seemed to be contained to a 50 mile radius, the effects of the… whatever were minor and few reports of demonic activity came in.” The cambion then pulled out some files, presenting them to the woman. “These are the reports from today. Numerous cases and sightings all over the country, plus a general increase in demonic activity since then. Most of them report demonics, independent of how they typically act, acting almost feral. Some reverted to a more instinctual nature, others were thrown and stuck in another of their forms, some had innate abilities that were activated. However, lower classed demons such as hellhounds and non-corporeals, didn’t seem to be affected, most likely because of their low magic levels. I have yet to receive any numbers from my international contacts, but the Hunters have considered this a worldwide phenomenon.” 

She watched the cambion with a careful eye, waiting for a telltale of dishonesty. But of course there wasn’t. Who would dare lie to her?

“Any change in clean up efforts?” She extended a hand for the manila folder, to which the cambion quickly gave up.

“Ah, no. The Hunters will be keeping an eye on it but they believe this is a one time thing, a fluke.”

“And you didn’t give them any input?”

They pursed their lips, considering their next words. “With all due respect, m’lady, they don’t listen to whatever I may have to say.”

She paused, thumb ready to turn to the next page. “Yes, right, I understand.” She turned her gaze to the third demonic in the room. “Any changes in deals or hunter-demonic interactions?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s been quiet. Deals are at a general low, but that’s not new.”

Humming, she returned to reading the provided documents. “Best fix that; else you may lose your position.” 

“That’s unlikely to happen-” He began, shutting up and steeling himself with a gulp when he received a sharp look, “But I will make sure to get right on it, my lady.”

“Good. This discussion does not go beyond this room, understood? If new developments arise, you better come to me before anyone else.” She closed the folder, laying flat upon the desk.

“Yes, Lady Lilith.” The two spoke and bowed simultaneously, a practiced manner.

“You are both dismissed. You may report this back to your people: We will monitor the situation closely, but for now, no decision regarding the withdrawal of overworld demonics has been made.” She waved her hand and the two walked out of her office, shutting the door softly as they left.

After a moment, listening to the everpresent bubbling of lava and the crackle of fire, the Queen of Hell sighed, laying her forehead against the adorned knuckles of her folded hands. 

“What are you planning, you white-eyed bastard…”