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It wasn’t supposed to go this wrong.
It was going to be a normal day, it really was. They had two important customers, a few mundanes, then the rest of the day was free. That was all.
Easy enough.
So how did it go so wrong ?
[EARLIER]
Tubbo tapped his hand rapidly on the counter as the final customer left their little shop. He waved with his free hand, giving a quick smile. It felt strained, although he wasn’t sure if the woman noticed or not. Not that he cared either way. He was nearly buzzing in his seat, his leg bouncing on the floor in a rhythmic pattern, in time with his hand.
The day had inched by impossibly slow. Now, normally, this wasn’t a problem. He was fairly patient. It’s not like he was going to run out of time . However, when Wilbur offered to teach Tubbo about more potions after the shop closed…
Well, patience was a little more difficult.
The door slammed shut, hitting the little bell on top. At the small jingle, Tubbo shot up out of his seat, running to lock up. He kind of felt like a kid on Christmas morning, if Christmas consisted of what were essentially lessons. Oh, and he already knew what his present was.
Okay. Maybe it wasn’t quite like Christmas.
Wilbur watched the younger boy, a bemused look on his face as he started pulling out ingredients from behind the counter. “Take your time. We’re not in a rush.”
Tubbo nodded, raising his hand in front of the door. Blue electricity webbed between his fingers, energy filling the air. He turned his hand, and the lock clicked. It was pointless, he could lock the door just as well manually. But he liked the feeling of magic. It was comforting - familiar.
“I know! Doesn’t mean I can’t be excited.”
Wilbur just shook his head, lighting a few candles with a snap. It wasn’t really necessary for the potions they were going to be making, but they smelled nice and gave the small shop a warmer atmosphere, a welcomed contrast from the rest of the day.
“Alright,” the older man paused, setting a mortar and pestle on the counter. Tubbo looked over, flipping the sign from “open” to “close.” “C’mere. I need you to grind this and… this into a paste, please. Doesn’t matter which way, so long as it’s by hand.”
The smaller boy nodded, hurrying over to start. He loved potions. It reminded him vaguely of baking. Everything, in its own strange way, had to be precise. It made sense. He liked that.
Wilbur watched silently. It was pretty much impossible to mess this up, but that didn’t mean he wanted to completely stop supervising. That was how things went wrong.
“Good. Now. Add that into the cauldron, and that’s when the real magic begins,” Wilbur grinned, moving so that he was standing behind Tubbo.
The potion didn’t require too much magic, but it was enough to make Wil nervous. Maybe he was just being overprotective. Tubbo was more than capable. He’d be fine.
He still hovered.
“Right. So you want to move your arm like so.” Wilbur demonstrated, the lack of magic evident in the way the potion did absolutely nothing. “And while you do that, add this.”
He handed Tubbo a small vial, which the boy took carefully. “What’s this?”
“Expensive.”
Tubbo nodded in understanding, lifting his right arm carefully.
Snap.
Blue electricity flickered through the young warlock’s hands. The energy coming off it was steady, powerful. Much better than the first time he tried magic. He was improving, Wilbur noted, watching the boy move his arm above the potion. It was impressive.
“Good. Now… add the vial,” Wil said, nodding. Tubbo dumped the clear liquid, watching in mild amazement as the mixture started to glow. “Perfect.”
Tubbo looked up at the taller man, grinning widely. The potion cast a soft turquoise glow over his face, the lighting picking up the awe in his features perfectly. “Whoa.”
Wilbur laughed softly, ruffling Tubbo’s hair. “I know. It’s a pretty one. Here. Bottle it.”
Tubbo carefully picked up the bottle, dipping a spoon into the liquid, slowly pouring it into the glass. “Who’s this for?”
“No one in particular. It’s just something that a lot of people ask for,” he hummed, taking the bottle from Tubbo. “Perfect. You’re improving a lot.”
Tubbo beamed. Good and proper praise from Wilbur used to be rare, and the younger always felt just a little proud whenever he was told he did a good job. It felt nice to hear.
Wilbur corked the top, moving behind the counter to store the potion. Glamor would make the bottle and any… “other worldly” item seem harmless, meaning they could display their magic items openly.
“Alright. We can make another potion, then we have to actually clean,” Wilbur said, waving his hand to clean the cauldron. A soft whoosh sounded, and the cauldron was emptied. “Grab some wolfsbane, please.”
Wolfsbane. It was a fairly common item, one that Tubbo had brought out a countless amount of times. The jar was just under the cabinet, diagonal from where they were standing. Easy enough.
Tubbo walked over to the cabinet, rummaging around a little. He found the jar, pulling out the dried flowers with a smile. They were gorgeous, one of his favorites, if he was forced to pick.
Meanwhile, Wilbur continued to pull out ingredients. This was a simple potion, much like the last. It was a diluted version of another potion that he sold a lot, except this one was to ward off werewolves, not kill them. Wilbur didn’t like dealing in poisons.
He had done that one enough.
Tubbo skipped back over, setting the jar down on the counter carefully. The two got to work, mixing the potion up relatively quick, talking quietly as they went. They weren’t completely caught up in the moment, but enough that any other noises outside the shop faded into the background.
Portals were supposed to be loud. That was their entire… thing. A loud, effective way that warlocks used to get from place to place. Simple as that. You knew when someone opened one, that was part of the idea.
The noise is only magnified when the portal leads to literal hell.
Wilbur never quite figured out how He made a silent portal. It was probably some sort of charm or spell, maybe some demon pizazz. Whatever it was, it fucking worked .
No one noticed anything until the candles blew out.
“Tubbo, did you fuck with the candles?” Wilbur asked, frowning as all three seemed to go out at once. He glanced over at the door, even more confused when he saw it was closed.
The boy shook his head quickly, his face matching Wilbur’s. “No, I haven’t touched them! I didn’t do anything!”
Wilbur’s frown only deepened as he lit the candles again. “Whatever, I guess… No big deal. We can just-”
The warlock cut himself off, his head snapping up.
Tubbo could feel the energy in the room before he even saw why Wilbur stopped. It was thick and heavy, wrapping around the small warlock like an uncomfortable blanket, making him warmer.
But it wasn’t the good kind of warm. It wasn’t the kind of warm and fuzzy feeling you got when you were sat in front of a fire, or when you drank a warm drink. It was the kind of warm you felt when it was a hundred degrees outside, and you made the mistake of forgetting to bring water. It was suffocating.
He started panicking internally, trying to figure out what he was feeling. It was a lot - too much to feel all at once. He squirmed where he stood, trying to shake the sensation.
Wilbur was the first to turn around - the first to realize what had happened. He had been around this energy before, a while ago. He had felt this uncomfortable heat before. Though he thought he had escaped it. That he would never have to feel it again, feel His presence again.
He took a quick, deliberate step forward, pushing Tubbo behind him. The smaller boy looked up in confusion. Why was he being pushed behind?
He finally turned around. The noise came rushing to meet him, and he almost stumbled back. It was unexpected. All the noise scared him, flooded his senses. It took him a moment to realize what was happening.
Wilbur spoke up first.
“Asmodeus,” he growled, tilting his chin up so that he looked the demon in the eyes. Eyes… Cat eyes. Just like his and Tubbo’s. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Asmodeus.
Just the name itself carried power, like a scarier, much more real Voldemort. Suddenly everything clicked.
Oh fuck.
Asmodeus stepped away from the portal, although it remained open. He didn’t seem to mind the noise. He had to deal with it every day.
To Tubbo, it only added to
The demon shook his head, mock disappointment dripping from his every move as he walked towards the warlocks. “Tsk tsk. Is that really any way to speak to your father?”
His voice seemed to reverb, and Tubbo would have laughed had it been any other time. It felt comical, it really did. And it would have been, had Tubbo not have been quite literally shaking in his boots.
Wilbur growled.
“You were no father to me!” Tubbo watched the older man bite back an insult. He hadn’t heard much about Wil’s time with their father, but he knew enough to know it was bad. “You have no right to call yourself a father. You have no right to be here .”
Something in the air changed with that sentence. The energy wrapping around Tubbo was no longer warm, it was freezing . It felt like the shop actually got colder, making both the warlocks shiver.
“Now, now,” Asmodeus hummed, taking another step forward. Something about his tone was different, more sinister. Wilbur pushed Tubbo back farther, and he fought the urge to cling to Wilbur’s hand.
The demon just rolled his eyes. “Aw, come on! I wanna meet my other son! Don’t be a homewrecker, Wilbur.”
Tubbo’s eyes darted back and forth between the two men, panic now really setting in. They were fucked. No matter how strong Wilbur was, or how advanced Tubbo seemed to be, they were powerless against a demon. Powerless against the Prince of Hell.
Asmodues only seemed to be dragging this out, wanting the warlocks to be as uncomfortable as possible.
It was working.
“I think it is due time I meet Tubbo, don’t you think, Wil? It’s only fair.”
The sound of his name coming out of his… father’s mouth made Tubbo flinch. It felt wrong. He never considered Asmodeus a father, and hearing what Wilbur told him…
Tubbo shrunk back behind Wilbur.
“No,” Wil said, frighteningly calm. Tubbo watched his hand twitch at his side. Asmodeus rolled his eyes again. “No. You don’t get that privilege. You’re a monster. Get out. ”
The demon took a few, slow steps towards Wilbur. Tubbo grabbed the back of the other warlock’s shirt. It would do nothing, but the feeling of the familiar fabric in his hand was comforting.
The energy got colder.
“I’m the monster?” Asmodeus asked, still walking towards them. “ I’m the monster? Fascinating… Truly, it is! You know, sometimes I wonder what happened to that eager, young warlock that I found all those years ago. What ever happened to him?”
Wilbur stiffened. His arm slid behind his back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Snap.
Tubbo was pushed back, stumbling into the counter. A small squeak escaped his mouth at the sudden movement, his side slamming into the corner. Fuck. He was a tad disoriented, and very confused.
He rightened himself in time to see Wilbur whipping his arm back in front of him, a blur of motion.
Wilbur had never been good at fighting. Honestly, he had never needed it. But when Asmodeus stepped through that portal…
He wasn’t stupid. There was no way this was happening that didn’t include some sort of fighting. He realized early on that all he really needed to do was knock the demon backwards, back into the portal. Simple enough.
False.
It was an easy trick. Focus your energy in one place. Keep it tight, compact. Find your target and…
Miss.
He missed. He fucking missed.
Time seemed to stop. He was vaguely aware of Tubbo behind him, still leaned against the counter. Everything was moving so slow . He was panicking. He had one chance, and he fucked it up.
He went to make another ball, quicker this time. If he could build it up fast enough, focus enough of his energy, he could fire another one.
First mistake.
By the time the energy even started building up, Asmodeus was moving.
He knows-
Right. Avoid fighting hand-to-hand. Magic. That’s what would win. That’s what would keep Tubbo safe.
The ball of energy started growing more and more. It wasn’t big enough yet.
Few more seconds…
He didn’t have a few more seconds.
Tubbo watched with wide eyes as Asmodues started moving towards his brother. He tried his hardest to stand up, to shout, to knock Wilbur out of the way - something. He had to do something. He had to help .
“Wil!”
It would have been better if he had stayed quiet. Tubbo’s outburst startled the taller man, making his focus shift. The energy seemed to die in his hands. Wilbur turned towards Tubbo, and Asmodeus raised his hands.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck-
Snap.
Tubbo had never seen magic in a real fight. Tommy rarely had to use his runes when Tubbo was near, and that was barely magic. The most that he had seen was when that raccoon had started going through the trash. Wil had used a little magic to push the animal out of the bins.
This was different.
Wilbur’s feet left the ground. His entire body seemed - no, not seemed. His entire body was suspended in the air. He clawed at his throat, which Tubbo realized was where the magic was holding him.
“Stop it!”
Second mistake.
Tubbo didn’t even realize he was shouting until the words left his mouth. Asmodues didn’t even bat an eye. The demon’s right hand moved a few inches. Tubbo was thrown back, his head knocking on the corner of the counter. It didn’t knock him out, but it was enough to temporarily hinder his movement. His hand went to cradle where the counter had connected. He flinched when he felt the warmth.
Blood. How cute.
Asmodues turned his attention back to the warlock he held in the air. He pretended to regard the man - his son - as he walked around slowly. A soft tsk sounded as he looked Wii up and down again. “Downgraded quite a bit, I see.”
Wilbur let out something between a gasp and a whimper.
Asmodeus rolled his eyes. This was a waste of his time. He had lost any hope for his son years and years ago, but it was still disappointing.
Snap.
Wilbur was thrown into the cinder block wall, the shelves crashing to the ground. He looked like a rag doll, ending up in a heap on the floor. His glasses lay next to him, the lenses in pieces. The warlock didn’t move.
Tubbo let out a strangled cry. “Wilbur!”
Asmodeus sighed, shaking his head. He turned his back to where Wilbur lay, instead starting towards Tubbo. “Shame. He showed real promise when he was younger, you know. Much like you do.”
Tubbo couldn’t move. He couldn’t tear his gaze from where his brother lay on the ground. He couldn’t move. Was he even breathing?
“Hey.” Tubbo’s head shot up. Asmodeus stood over him now, unphased. “Get up.”
Tubbo shook his head, instead staring at Wilbur again. He was trembling, tears pricking at his eyes.
Is he alive?
“Oh, please. Don’t worry about… him, ” Asmodeus said, disgust dripping from his voice. “Get up. ”
This time, the demon didn’t wait for Tubbo to refuse. He roughly grabbed the boy by his arm, dragging him to his feet. And, at first, Tubbo didn’t even react. His eyes were laser-focused onto Wilbur.
A loud boom from the portal made him tear his gaze away.
No no no no-
He started struggling. Kicking, punching, clawing. Anything he could. He didn’t want to go through that portal. His movements turned even more panicked the closer they grew to the portal, desperation really kicking in.
“No ! Fuck off! Let me go!!” he all but screeched. He clawed at the demon’s hand, which was currently clamped around his arm. There would be a bruise there for weeks. “No! Stop it! Wilbur!!”
Final mistake.
The other warlock didn’t move. He was out cold , and would be for the next few hours. Tubbo kept screaming, tears streaming down his face as he called desperately for his brother.
Oh my god he’s dead-
A single gut-wrenching cry tearing itself from Tubbo’s throat is what finally made Asmodues stop. He was getting really tired of hearing his son. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard a thousand times over. He should’ve been able to deal with it, no problem.
But Tubbo kept going. He kept going and the demon was fed up.
“He’s not going to hear you,” Asmodues hummed, stopping just in front of the portal. “He’s dead.”
He’s dead. He’s actually dead. He’s dead he’s dead he’s dead-
The words replayed in Tubbo’s head, momentarily silencing him. He stopped struggling, going limp in his father’s grip.
Wilbur’s dead.
“Thank god,” Asmodues grumbled. The sweet sound of silence.
Tubbo didn’t resist when his father gripped his chin, nor when he forced him to look him in the eyes. He didn’t protest when he felt the glamour drop from his eyes. He didn’t care . Wilbur was gone.
“Pitiful,” Asmodeus growled, raising his hand as if he was going to strike the warlock. “Fucking pitiful.”
Tubbo whimpered softly, shaking his head the best he could. The demon wasn’t bothered. Tubbo braced himself for the hit, screwing his eyes shut.
It never came.
He waited a moment before slowly opening his eyes again, light flooding his sight. He had just enough time to look back up at Asmodeus, who still had his arm raised. And then it clicked. He went to shield his head, to try and block whatever was about to happen
No no no no-
Snap.
The world faded to black.