Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“This is the least fucking haunted place I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s totally haunted,” Ranboo huffed.

“Yeah, uh-huh, that’s just what the tourism industry wants you to think.” Tubbo wrinkled his nose at a dusty little table in the corner and tried to touch as little of the floor he sat on as possible. “You’d think they’d at least bother to keep it looking decent.”

“This isn’t a tourist attraction.”

“It so is,” Tubbo insisted. “You said it yourself, every ghost hunter wants to come here.”

Ranboo was fiddling with some piece of equipment—an EMF reader? A spirit box? Fuck if Tubbo knew.

“Yeah, and the reason most don’t is because it’s not a tourist attraction,” Ranboo muttered, smacking the funny little contraption aggressively because that always helped. “We’re lucky we live nearby.”

“If you can call a two-hour-long drive nearby,” Tubbo retorted. “Well, if it’s not a tourist attraction, then what is it?”

“A house. Well, more like a mansion, I guess.”

“Wait, like… someone’s actual house?”

Ranboo shrugged. “Someone owns it. It’s not like he lives here. I mean, look at this place, would you? The vibes are just not there, man.”

“Ranboo.” Tubbo pressed his fingers to his lips. “Are we on private property right now?”

“It’s not illegal if you don’t get caught.”

“Oh, my god,” Tubbo groaned. “We’re gonna get arrested.”

“Nah.”

“That was the deal when you started dragging me out on these ‘investigations’ or whatever! You said we weren’t going to do anything that could get us fucking arrested!”

“No one’s seen the owner in forever, we’re fine,” Ranboo insisted, still struggling with the box. “Some people actually think he’s dead and became one of the ghosts in this place.”

Tubbo snorted. “Oh, bullshit.”

“What? It’s plausible.”

“He’s not a ghost, because ghosts aren’t real.”

Ranboo tilted his head to the side. “Are you seriously more scared of trespassing right now than the ghosts we’re trying to talk to?”

“Yes!”

The device he was messing with made a static noise—it was a spirit box, then. Right? All the fucking ghost equipment made annoying noises, but Tubbo was pretty sure the static one was the spirit box.

“Well, let’s see how long that lasts now that I’ve got this working.” Ranboo set the box in front of him and crossed his legs. “Let’s talk to some ghosts.”

“Yeah,” Tubbo scoffed. “Let’s talk to some ghosts. I’m so scared of these ghosts that are very real. Wow.”

“Shut up, you’re gonna offend them.”

“Pussies.”

“Tubbo!”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“Anyway.” Ranboo clapped his hands together. “Spirits. Ghosts. Hi. I’m Ranboo, this is Tubbo. We’d like to talk to you.” He shot Tubbo a glance, like he was daring him to disagree, before adjusting his mask and returning to the box. “Is there anyone present with us right now?”

It crackled for a while before producing a noise that sounded remarkably like a “hello?”

“Huh,” Tubbo said absently. “Interesting.”

“Huh?” Ranboo repeated. “Huh? Someone just contacted us!”

“Sure they did.”

“You heard it!”

Tubbo rolled his eyes. “Hey, ghost fuck, you still here?”

The static pitched up and down in a weird way. “They’re laughing at you,” Ranboo said. “Listen to that, they’re laughing at you.”

“Honestly, man, I just hear static.”

“Sorry about him,” Ranboo grumbled. “Can you tell us your name?”

“No.”

Okay, admittedly, Tubbo heard that clear as day, but it was definitely a coincidence. Since ghosts weren’t real, and all that.

“You heard that,” Ranboo said. “Come on, Tubbo, you totally heard that.”

“It sounded like a ‘no.’”

“Yes!”

“That doesn’t mean some ghost did it,” Tubbo added quickly. “It’s a radio, for fuck’s sake, it could’ve been anything.” Ranboo pinched the bridge of his nose and Tubbo sighed, deciding to humor him just a little bit. “Who do you think it could be?”

“I dunno, people think there are a lot of ghosts in this house. There’s only ever been one confirmed death in it, though, so some people think it might be a single demon, pretending to be several different ghosts.”

“You say that like you don’t believe it.”

Ranboo shook his head. “Nah, demons don’t like to shift forms so often. And they generally aren’t big on spirit boxes.” He turned back to the box. “Are you the only presence with us right now?”

The crackling certainly did something, but what exactly, Tubbo couldn’t say. Ranboo nodded like he’d understood.

“What’d they say?”

“You heard it.”

“I didn’t hear any actual words.”

“They said yes.”

“You’re making that up,” Tubbo said, pushing his buttons ever so slightly to balance out humoring him earlier.

“I am not!”

“Okay, okay, just keep talking.” He sneezed. “I wanna get out of here soon, my dust allergy is acting up.”

“Spirit, what do you think of us?”

The white noise lasted just long enough that Tubbo was sure Ranboo was going to give up on the noise. Naturally, it was the same second that thought came to mind that two crunchy words spilled out of the box.

“Curious.” Or maybe curses? That wouldn’t be good, if the alleged ghost was—hypothetically—real. “Funny.”

Ranboo let out a burst of delighted laughter. “It’s a friendly ghost!”

“We should call it Casper,” Tubbo suggested sarcastically.

“Can we call you Casper, ghost?”

The same sound that Ranboo had called laughing earlier cut through the static. “Yes.”

“Wait,” Tubbo said. “Wait a damn minute!”

Ranboo was positively in stitches, holding his stomach as he laughed. “He said yes!”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard him!”

“I thought he wasn’t real.”

“He’s not,” Tubbo said. “But, like… I was kidding.”

Ranboo wiped his eyes. “I don’t think Casper cares that you were kidding. He’s so talkative, I’ve never heard anything like this before!”

The spirit box made another noise that sent Ranboo into a renewed fit of giggling, but Tubbo didn’t catch it.

“What?” he asked. “Ranboo, what did you hear?”

“He- he said ‘friend,’” he wheezed. “Casper thinks you’re funny and wants to be your friend.”

“Oh, bullshit!” Tubbo exclaimed. “That is such bullshit!

“It isn’t, that’s what he said!”

“Casper the friendly ghost is all in your head, man! You’re projecting our friendship onto a fucking radio!”

“Yeah, right,” Ranboo said. “Because you definitely aren’t talking to a ghost right now.”

“I’m not!”

“You-”

The spirit box proceeded to make a whole bunch of noise, interrupting him.

“Huh? What?” Tubbo asked. “Boo, did you get any of that?”

“No.” Ranboo scooted a little closer to it. “Could you repeat that for us, Casper?”

“You should go.”

Tubbo hated how clear it sounded.

“Oh.” Ranboo’s eyes went wide. “Uh, Tubbo, I think it’s time to leave. Casper, this has been fun. Great talking with you, we’re gonna get going now.”

“Thank you.”

“Bye,” Tubbo said absently.

Ranboo turned off the spirit box (thank fuck, it was starting to kill his ears). “Oh, sure,” he said. “Now that he wants us to leave you wanna talk to him.”

“I just figured I should be polite to your imaginary friend.”

“I can’t believe he likes you.”

“Doesn’t seem like too far a leap to me,” Tubbo muttered.

“Come on,” Ranboo said, gathering his supplies and standing up. “When a ghost tells you to leave, you leave.”

Tubbo followed him down the stairs, back toward the front door. “I thought he was a friendly ghost.”

“I think he is,” Ranboo told him. “I’m worried that another, slightly less pleasant entity might’ve noticed us or something.”

“Like the landlord?” Ranboo shot him a withering look. “Maybe Casper just doesn’t want us to get caught trespassing. Good on ‘im, I say.”

“You are so…” Tubbo raised an eyebrow as his friend searched for the word. “Mmmm.”

“I’m so mmmm?”

“I don’t have anything nice to say, so I’m not saying anything.” The front door hadn’t closed all the way (stupid fucking “haunted” houses and their decrepitness), so Ranboo nudged it open with his foot. “Come on, let’s leave.”

Tubbo nodded soberly, making a beeline for their car. “Gotta leave before the landlord gets here.”

“More like a demon.”

“Personally I would much rather meet a demon than someone who’s gonna call the police on me.” He reached the car—an ancient yellow Volkswagen Beetle Ranboo insisted on calling the Beeboobile, for some reason (Tubbo absolutely never called it that, nope, not ever, it was a stupid name). He tugged on the door and it didn’t budge. “Oi, Boo, unlock the car!” Getting no response, he turned around to find Ranboo staring up at one of the windows of the mansion they’d just exited. “Uh, watcha looking at, boss man?”

“Did you see that?” Ranboo asked in a hushed voice.

“See what?”

“There was someone in that window!”

Tubbo massaged his temples. “We both have work tomorrow, can we go home now?”

“He waved, I think it was Casper saying goodbye!”

“That’s fantastic, Boo, now unlock the car, it’s fucking cold outside.”

Seemingly snapping back to reality, Ranboo fiddled with his keys and hit the unlock button. Tubbo slid into shotgun and slumped into the seat. Ranboo put the key in ignition and his hands on the wheel, and then… sat there.

“Ranboo?” Tubbo waved a hand in front of his face. “Let’s go.”

“Right.” Ranboo looked over his shoulder and started reversing out of the driveway. “Let’s go.”

---

Tubbo woke up at noon, as per usual.

Both he and Ranboo had odd sleep schedules. Ranboo would wake up late and work the afternoon shift at his cousin’s bakery every weekday. Tubbo worked nights at a shitty burger place four times a week and accompanied Ranboo during his ghost hunting exploits on the three he had off. Eventually, going to sleep around 4 AM and waking up near noon had become standard for both of them.

It was almost one by the time Tubbo actually got out of his room. Ranboo was gone, and they hadn’t gotten back to the apartment until almost five the night before, so he’d let himself rest. As far as apartments went, the one they shared wasn’t the worst. It was absolutely tiny but not too rundown, in a half-decent part of town on a quiet street. What a lot of people might think was the worst part of it was actually something of a bonus to them—two streets over and perched on top of a hill visible from the living room window was a house commonly known to as the youngest haunted location in all of L’Manberg. Sleek, modern, and apparently the host of a murder-suicide eight years back, it was completely abandoned and therefore free range for all ghost hunters. It was the first allegedly haunted place Ranboo had dragged Tubbo into. They’d been to it three more times since, and every time so far Ranboo had left it in a frazzled mess (something something “definitely a demon,” something something “never coming back here again” (yeah, right)). Needless to say, Tubbo thought the house was great.

Tubbo started his day by cooking a grilled cheese, since it was already lunch time. Ranboo’s ghost journal was open on the counter. He recorded each of his “paranormal” experiences in it, and had frequently encouraged Tubbo to read it as a sort of debrief, since he never had a clue what was going on during so-called ghost encounters. After about the tenth time Tubbo had declined, Ranboo had resorted to just leaving it out in random places, hoping to appeal to his curiosity. Unbeknownst to him, that had actually worked several times—not that Tubbo would admit to having read a word of any of it. Not too much of the information in it made sense to him, anyway.

Today was one of the days that Tubbo’s curiosity got the best of him. He dragged the book closer with his spatula-free hand and skimmed the open page while he waited for his sandwich to cook.

Went to the Vault Mansion, it was absolutely massive. Explored less than half of it, easily. Turned on the spirit box in the main living room and got a huge response from a ghost. He didn’t tell us his name, but he let us call him Casper (Tubbo’s idea). Very friendly, but told us to leave after a little while. Not sure why. Negative entity appeared, maybe? Unclear. Followed his advice and left.

Boring, Tubbo thought. Careful not to let the book get too close to the stove, He flipped backward to a random page.

Big trip today! Tubbo and I went all the way to this super haunted ravine system called Pogtopia.

Tubbo smiled a little. He remembered that trip well—it had been one of their first few, and was honestly the primary reason that Tubbo continued to agree to going ghost hunting. Ranboo had been so simultaneously terrified and excited, it was hilarious. Tubbo could recall laughing as he frantically wrote down notes, jumped at noises, and threatened demons to stay back. He’d been too exhausted to drive home in the end, so Tubbo had taken the wheel and let him sleep. Naturally, they got hopelessly lost and wound up spending the night in the car, parked in some lot off the side of the road. Ranboo had driven them home the next morning, blasting music all the way that they both sang along to at the top of their lungs. It had been fun.

Didn’t make contact with any of the demons that are supposed to hang around (kinda glad about that, honestly), but there were a LOT of whispery voices and weird messages. I wrote them down… not sure what they are, might be Latin? I don’t think they’re graffiti. Not gonna mess with them.

Found at the farm: sic semper tyrannis

Found on a button: erat non intelligitur esse

Found on the tower: ego semper in ius

Tubbo narrowed his eyes at the strange words. “E-ego sepmer—no—semper in… in fucking what?” he muttered to himself. “The hell?” He held the book up to his face, as if that was going to help him read an entirely different language. “Ego…” Did it smell like smoke a little, or was he just going crazy? “Ego semper in ius.”

No, it definitely smelled like something was burning.

“Oh, shit!”

Tubbo had completely forgotten about the grilled cheese on the stove. He waved some of the smoke away with the spatula before frantically flipping it. The thoroughly blackened sandwich landed with a loud sizzle.

“Fuck,” Tubbo cursed, turning the stove off. “That is… oh, that is completely destro-”

There was a deafening pop to his left, and Tubbo nearly jumped on top of the counter in surprise. There was still smoke in the air, what was up with that? And where in hell had that noise come from? If anything was broken, Ranboo was going to-

Tubbo’s heart just about stopped.

Standing to his left, directly where the noise had come from, was a… thing.

It looked human enough, but every fiber of Tubbo’s being—even the logical part—screamed that there was no way he was looking at a human. It was tall and blond, with the grin of a cat that had eaten so, so many canaries plastered to its face.

Tubbo stared. What else was he supposed to do? The… person? Creature? Entity? Shit, Ranboo would know what to call it. Well, whatever it was, it stared back.

“Ayup,” it—no, he, something told Tubbo the being was a he—said eventually.

“Um.” What the fuck did ‘ayup’ mean? Was that Latin? If Tubbo repeated it, was he getting sent straight to hell? “Um…!”

“Well.” The mysterious being bounced on the balls of his feet as he looked around the kitchen. “Not quite what I expected from my first summoning, but it’s nice! It’s great, really. Very creative.” He reached out and patted Tubbo firmly on the head before his lagging brain could move out of range. “Good job. So, what can I do for you?”

Tubbo gulped nervously. “I… come again?”

“You summoned me. So, what can I do for you?”

Oh, fuck, Ranboo was going to kill him.

Chapter Text

Tommy was perfectly fond of hell and all, but he was starting to get a little tired of it.

He wanted to see the Overworld. It wasn’t that no one summoned demons—people called on his brothers plenty. It was that no one ever summoned him. Phil said it was because his domain was so vague. Most demon-summoning rituals just called a demon, and whoever fit the bill best showed up. Techno got all the violent ones. Wilbur got all the crazy ones. Phil wasn’t even technically a demon, but Kristin was busy being Queen of Hell, so he took all her summonings. There were plenty of demons to choose from, and always one that did the job better than pure, unfiltered chaos.

People were lame.

Tommy still held out hope, though. There was one ritual (one) that would summon him and only him. Out of their family, only Wilbur had ever received a call from the Overworld asking for him specifically, and he lorded it over everyone. Even the cult that worshipped Techno had yet to discover his ritual, and they weren’t getting it any time soon—Techno always came back from them rubbing his temples and draped in gold that he couldn’t refuse, and Tommy would have to listen to him complain about it for an hour while Phil disenchanted it all. Today was no exception.

“It’s heavy,” Techno grumbled. “I keep tellin’ ‘em to dedicate somethin’ a little lighter to me, but do they listen to me? No. No, why would they listen to the guy they worship?”

Wilbur fiddled with one of the necklaces. “Well, I will happily take some of it off your hands.” He dropped it quickly, shuddering. “Once it’s not, you know, magically bound to you forever.”

Techno held out the necklace to Phil, who took it and began chanting softly. “I hate this.”

Tommy eyed the jewelry, his red tail twitching in slight annoyance. “At least you have people to dedicate shit to you,” he muttered.

“I’m telling you, mate,” Phil said, handing the necklace off to Wilbur. “If you ever get too tired of them, I could go smite-”

Techno pressed his face in his hands. “For the last time, killin’ them all is not the best solution.”

“Yeah, what would Krisitin say?” Wilbur asked.

“Mumza would let him do anything if he said he was helping Techno,” Tommy pointed out. “You know how she is.”

“That’s fair,” Wilbur conceded.

“What if I told her it wouldn’t actually help me?” Techno asked. “Because it wouldn’t.” Wilbur laughed a little. “What’re you laughin’ at?”

“I just find it amusing that the fucking Demon of War wants to talk down his dad from murdering people,” he said.

“Yeah. War,” Techno emphasized. “If I let Phil here go kill ‘em all, it wouldn’t be so much of a war as a massacre.”

“Thanks, mate,” Phil said brightly.

“That wasn’t a compliment-”

“I’m taking it as one,” he insisted. “Hell knows you don’t give out many, I’ll take what I can get.”

Wilbur took a disenchanted ring from Phil and looked it over briefly before tossing it over his shoulder, out the fortress window, and into the lava below.

“Oh, c’mon, that was solid gold,” Tommy whined.

“It had poor craftsmanship!”

“So? Still gold!”

“Tommy, I’m looking for quality here,” Wilbur said, waving his hands dramatically. “My favorite deserves-”

Everyone else groaned collectively.

“Stop calling him your favorite, that’s weirdchamp,” Tommy told him.

“It is not,” Wilbur huffed. “My son-”

“Not that either,” Techno muttered.

“Fine. My chosen mortal deserves high-quality gifts.” Wilbur crossed his arms. “‘Chosen mortal’ sounds so boring.”

“It usually goes the other way, you know,” Phil said. “He’s supposed to give you stuff.”

“The choosing goes both ways,” Wilbur argued. “Not that any of you would know, you’ve never had such a close relationship with a mortal. Not like, say, being called specifically-”

More groans drowned him out.

“Just shut up, Wilbur,” Techno sighed.

“I’ll stab you,” Tommy added.

“You can try.”

“Boys,” Phil said pointedly.

“Sorry, we’re not angels, Phil,” Wilbur quipped.

Phil chuckled, the feathers of his obsidian black wings fluttering (he said they used to be white a long, long, time ago, but Tommy had trouble imagining that). “If I wanted you to be angels, I wouldn’t have married your mother.”

A familiar pulse started beating at the base of Tommy’s head—some human was summoning a demon again. Hopefully the cult didn’t want Techno back already. Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Any of you getting pulled up to the Overworld?” he asked his family

“Huh?” Wilbur tilted his head to the side, bewildered. “Tommy, what are you asking?”

“The summoning,” Tommy said, rubbing the back of his neck—it wasn’t always this tingly. “Is it calling any of you guys?” The three of them exchanged a peculiar look. “What?”

“Tommy,” Phil started delicately. “There is no summoning happening right now.”

Tommy made a face at that. “What? Yeah, there-” Wilbur pouted slightly, and realization hit Tommy like a punch to the face. “OH! Oh, my- holy shit!” he exclaimed, drinking in every bit of his brother’s disgruntled expression. “Someone’s calling me! Like, actually calling me! Just me!”

Phil smiled a little. “Just you, kid.”

Wilbur crossed his arms grumpily, and Tommy laughed.

“Suck it, Wilbur!” he crowed as the pulsing sensation spread to the rest of his body. “You’re not the only special one anymore! Later, losers!”

He flipped Wilbur off with both hands as his vision faded to white and it felt like his body was violently pulled upward. Before he knew it, Tommy found himself standing in what had to be a kitchen. It was a lot brighter than the one he was used to, and a lot messier, but it was definitely a kitchen. Standing right in front of him was a brown-haired boy—he looked about Tommy’s age, but he knew that mortals aged much faster, so the boy was probably actually several hundred years younger. He just stared at Tommy, eyes wide. Was he scared? Wilbur said that mortals got scared sometimes.

“Ayup,” Tommy said, trying his best to sound friendly.

“Um.” The boy’s eyes managed to somehow get even wider—Tommy wasn’t aware human eyes could do that. “Um…!”

“Well!” Tommy looked around, growing increasingly awkward under the mortal’s stare. “Not quite what I expected from my first summoning, but it’s nice! It’s great, really. Very creative.” He reached out and patted the boy on the head to show that he meant the compliment. “Good job. So, what can I do for you?”

The possibilities were endless—this human wanted to create chaos. What kind of chaos? Tommy let his mind run wild. A prank? Theft? Property damage? Arson?

“I… come again?”

“You summoned me,” Tommy reminded him. “So, what can I do for you?”

There was a moment of silence.

“Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m Tommy!”

“Tommy?” he repeated incredulously.

“Well, my actual name is absolute nonsense in your language,” Tommy explained. “And in mine, honestly—way too long. Tommy is fine. And you are…?”

“Um.” He licked his lips, as if indecisive. “Tubbo.”

“It is excellent to meet you, Tubbo.”

“Yeah. Sure. So, like…” Tubbo gestured vaguely and somewhat frantically. “What do you want?”

“Oh, I don’t know, anything will do. Just a little thank you for coming out and spending my energy to help you out.” Tommy’s eyes fell on the stove and whatever was thoroughly burnt to a crisp in the pan. “Is that what you used to summon me?”

“Er… yeah?”

“That’s brilliant!” Tommy told him. “I wouldn’t want you to go through too much trouble with a bonfire or some shit, it just seems like- holy fuck, is that water?”

Tubbo glanced at the glass on the counter. “Yes?”

“No fuckin’ way,” Tommy gasped. “Does it taste good?”

Tubbo chuckled hesitantly. “Have you never had water before?”

“We don’t have water in hell, it’s too hot.”

His eyebrows shot upward. “You don’t have water in he-” Tubbo shook his head. “Y’know what, nevermind. Would you like some water?”

“It would be very much appreciated.”

Tubbo spun on his heels and dropped his spatula so that he could grab a cup out of a cabinet. Tommy watched, intrigued, as he took the empty cup and held it over a funny little spout. He turned the knob and water came flooding out. Once the cup was full, he held it out to Tommy.

“One glass of water,” he said. “Just for you.”

Eagerly, Tommy took a sip. The thin liquid was pleasant and cold, as well as thoroughly lacking in flavor.

“This tastes like nothing,” he remarked.

Tubbo fidgeted with the sleeves of his hoodie. “Yeah.”

He seemed nervous. Why was he so nervous? That wasn’t good—Tommy wasn’t going to hurt him. He knew that, right?

“It’s very cool, Big T,” Tommy assured him, tweaking the nickname he used for Wilbur in hopes that it would calm the human. “It is, dare I say, pogchamp.”

“Dare you say what?”

“Pogchamp!” Tommy repeated happily. “Is that not a word humans use?” Tubbo shook his head. “Well, it means very, very cool.”

“Oh. Uh… pogchamp.”

Tommy switched to holding the glass with his red tail so that he could clap. “Yeah! Pogchamp!”

Tubbo laughed—a little more open and real than the last time. “You’re not what I expected,” he said.

Tommy tilted his head to the side curiously. “What did you expect?”

“Not sure,” Tubbo admitted. “Something a little more… scary? Mean?”

“Some of us are scary and mean,” Tommy told him. “Not me, though, I am just very awesome.”

Tubbo grinned. “I didn’t even know you were real until you showed up, honestly. And, if you don’t mind me asking… what exactly are you?”

Tommy frowned. “I’m a demon.”

“A demon-” Tubbo sucked in a sharp intake of air. “Okay. Wow.”

“How did you- how did you not already know that?” Tommy asked. “Because… you asked for me. Not any other demon, me.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah.” Tubbo really didn’t have a clue, did he? Tommy ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach. “This was an accident, wasn’t it? You didn’t mean to summon me at all.”

“Oh, my god, are you sad?” Tubbo yelped. “Shit. Um, don’t do that.”

“Don’t be sad…?”

“Yeah!”

“Well, I’ll just do that, then,” Tommy snapped.

Tubbo held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Sorry, sorry,” he said quickly. “It was an accident, yeah, but I’m glad to meet you! And I’m glad it was you that I summoned, specifically, and not any of the other demons that are mean and scary.” He smiled, traces of nervousness mixing with what looked like genuine joy. “You’re very pogchamp, Tommy.”

Something warm and happy flared up in Tommy’s chest, chasing away his sadness. “You think so?”

Tubbo nodded firmly. “Yep. The pogchampest.”

Tommy smiled. “Tubbo, I think I would like to choose you.”

“Choose me?”

“Yeah!” Tommy said brightly. “You’ve been very nice to me, and I haven’t even done anything for you yet.”

“I’m not clear on the whole choosing thing,” Tubbo reiterated.

“Oh! Well, it’s something a demon does to mortals they like a lot. One of my brothers has a chosen mortal, he calls him his favorite.”

“I’m your favorite?” Tubbo asked.

“Yeah!”

“Well.” He laughed, a little anxiety creeping into it again. “That’s… interesting.”

“You don’t have to say yes,” Tommy said, quickly backpedaling.

“I just- sorry, I don’t know much about demons,” Tubbo explained. “Maybe you could tell me more about that later? Ranboo usually comes home for lunch, he’ll be back any minute now.” He put a hand to his mouth. “Oh, shit, Ranboo. He’s not going to be happy about this.”

“Who’s Ranboob?”

“Ranboo,” Tubbo corrected him. “He’s my roommate, I’m so dead when he finds out I brought a fucking demon into the house-”

“He’s going to be mad at you?” Tommy clarified.

“Very.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes at the door, preparing for the nasty Ranboo man to walk in at any moment. “I’ll protect you, Tubbo, don’t worry.”

“Whoa, whoa, he’s not going to hurt me, he’s my friend!”

“You said you were gonna be dead!” Tommy exclaimed.

“Not literally!” Tubbo hissed. “Just- maybe stay out of sight? He might be scared of you.”

Tommy sniffed indignantly. “Fine. He won’t be able to see me if I don’t want him to. But if he tries anything-”

The front door creaked open and Tubbo jumped, spinning to face it. A tall boy with a mask on his face walked in and waved to Tubbo casually, his eyes going right past Tommy. As Tubbo had summoned him, there was nothing Tommy could do to block him from seeing him, but it didn’t take any real effort to hide himself from Ranboo’s eyes.

“Hey, Tubbo,” he greeted casually. “Jeez, man, what did you burn?”

“Uh.” Tubbo’s eyes flashed wildly from Ranboo to Tommy. “A grilled cheese.”

“You’re lucky the smoke detector didn’t go off.”

“We don’t have a smoke detector, Boo, it broke like two weeks ago.”

“Right.” Ranboo sat down at the table. “We should probably fix that.”

“Mm-hmm.” Tubbo shoved his hands in his pockets. “Probably.”

“Everything okay?”

Bitch, Tommy thought. He’s fucking worried you’re gonna kill him if you see me.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Tubbo’s voice was pitched far higher than it should’ve been. “Let’s eat!”

Ranboo narrowed his eyes at Tubbo. Tommy stared daggers at him in return. If he thought he could do anything to Tommy’s almost maybe eventually chosen mortal, he was very sorely mistaken.

Maybe it was time to cause a little chaos.

Chapter Text

Something was up. Ranboo could literally smell it.

“Hey, Tubbo,” he said, taking note of how his friend smiled far too widely. “Jeez, man, what did you burn?”

“Uh.” Tubbo glanced quickly at the empty space next to him. “A grilled cheese.”

Ranboo had half a mind to call BS on that, but the charred lump on the stove did look something like a grilled cheese. “You’re lucky the smoke detector didn’t go off.”

“We don’t have a smoke detector, Boo, it broke like two weeks ago.”

“Right.” Ranboo sat down with a sigh. “We should probably fix that.”

“Mm-hmm.” Tubbo shoved his hands in his pockets—wasn’t that something that liars did? “Probably.”

“Everything okay?” Ranboo asked.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Tubbo’s voice was not usually that high. “Let’s eat!”

Ranboo watched him through narrowed eyes as he started busying himself in the kitchen. “You’re not going to eat that grilled cheese, right?”

“Oh, definitely not, I don’t want to know what would happen if I did,” Tubbo said, opening cupboards.

“Food poisoning, probably,” Ranboo guessed. “If you could even get your teeth into it.”

“Yeah,” Tubbo muttered. “Food poisoning.”

He made his way to the table with a few packages of graham crackers, taking an oddly roundabout route. Instead of just moving in a straight line, he walked like he was going around some invisible pole. What was up with him?

Tubbo threw him some graham crackers. “How’s work so far?”

“Fine,” Ranboo said. “I’ll have to go back in about twenty minutes.”

“That’s rough.”

He shrugged. “Could be worse. Don’t you have work tonight?”

Tubbo made a face. “Unfortunately.”

Ranboo reached for his food, only to accidentally knock it off the table. He sighed and leaned down to get it. When he sat back up, Tubbo jumped like he’d been caught doing something wrong. Ranboo decided not to question it, mostly because he wasn’t even sure what he’d ask. Hey, man, what is wrong with you today? That didn’t sound very good.

Ranboo bit into a cracker slowly. Tubbo nibbled on his, taking uncharacteristically small bites. A sudden chill ran down Ranboo’s spine and he shivered. Tubbo’s eyes locked on the wall just over Ranboo’s left shoulder.

“Whatcha looking at?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Nothing,” Tubbo said quickly. “The wall.”

“The wall?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Was he hallucinating? Was this some really elaborate prank? What was going on?

Ranboo took a long drink through the straw of his water bottle, pondering the situation. Maybe Tubbo had inhaled some sort of fumes when he’d nuked that grilled cheese. The pan was kind of old, and it was entirely possible the cheese had expired, or maybe the spatula had-

No way.

The straw fell from Ranboo’s mouth. Tubbo had moved his journal—it was open next to the stove. Had he finally been reading it?

“Ranboo?” Tubbo asked, waving a hand in front of his face. “Now you’re staring at nothing.” He glanced around nervously. “Right?”

“Did you read my journal?” Ranboo blurted.

Tubbo turned a deep shade of red. “I mean- I might’ve, uh, taken a glance-”

“You read it!”

“Didn’t you want me to do that?”

“Yes!” Ranboo exclaimed, standing up and making his way around the table to it. “What did you read? What did you think?”

“Um, the bit about Pogtopia,” Tubbo said, following him. “It was really-”

He cut himself off with a gasp. Before Ranboo could ask what was wrong, his foot caught on thin air and he tripped. He stifled a curse as pain flared through his side when he hit the floor.

“Oh, my god, are you okay?” Tubbo asked anxiously.

Ranboo sat up, wincing a little. “I’ll be fine.”

Tubbo kept glancing off to the side. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” He used one hand to push himself back to his feet and the other to gesture dramatically at where he’d tripped. “There isn’t even anything there!”

“Yeah, uh…” Tubbo’s eyes were definitely tracking something—something apparently pretty distracting. “Freak accident?”

“Tubbo, I want you to be completely honest with me here,” Ranboo said. “Are you seeing things?”

He forced the most unbelievable laugh Ranboo ever heard. “What?” Tubbo’s roaming glance landed briefly on the journal, and Ranboo could swear he felt the blood in his veins freeze. “No, I’m not-”

“Tubbo, are you… are you seeing things that I can’t?”

“Uhhhhhh-”

Ranboo pressed his hands to his lips. “If I go get my EMF reader right now, is it gonna beep at us?”

Tubbo grimaced. “It… might.”

“You remember all those rules you made for me when we started ghost hunting?” Tubbo nodded soberly. “What was rule number two, huh?”

He sighed heavily. “If ghosts are, somehow, real-”

“Don’t bring any into the apartment!”

“I didn’t mean to!”

Ranboo groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me, where’s my Prime water-”

“No!” Tubbo exclaimed.

“No?” he repeated incredulously.

“He’s… he’s not that bad!”

Ranboo raised an eyebrow. “And how, exactly, did he get here?”

Tubbo gestured vaguely at nothing (or maybe he was pointing at the ghost, Ranboo didn’t know). “I accidentally summoned him.”

Now, hold on a minute.

“You… summoned him?” Ranboo clarified. “You can’t summon a ghost, Tubbo, what is in our house right now?”

“... A demon.”

Ranboo placed a hand over his mouth, contemplating his impending doom. “I don’t know if I have enough Prime water for this.”

“You can’t get rid of him!” Tubbo insisted. “He’s nice!”

“He tripped me!”

“I- well-” he sputtered. “He’s nice to me!”

“He’s a demon, Tubbo, just tell me what you did and I’ll try to fix it.” Ranboo reached for his journal, only for the book to snap closed on its own and scoot further down the counter. “Excuse me,” he said, forcing his voice to stay even. “That’s mine.” Ranboo tried again and the book was tossed to the dining room table. “Tubbo, what’s this demon’s name?”

“Tommy.”

Ranboo blinked slowly, processing the information. “The demon’s name is Tommy?”

“Well, it’s not his real name,” Tubbo said. “That’s just what he goes by.”

“I- okay,” Ranboo sighed. “Tommy, please give me my journal.”

There was a pause.

“Oh, uh, he says no,” Tubbo reported. “He thinks you’ll hurt him.”

“I’m not going to hurt him, I’m just going to banish him.”

“Yeah, he says no to that, too.” Tubbo smiled a little. “More specifically, he says that you can fuck off.”

“Look,” Ranboo said, getting desperate. “Demons are creatures of hell. They’re dangerous. Since you summoned him, he won’t hurt you unless you offend him—which could be very easy to do—but I have no protection here. If at any point Tommy decides he doesn’t like me, he can just kill me.” Tubbo paled and looked at some "empty" air with an appalled expression. “He’s agreeing with me, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. But he wouldn’t.” Tubbo turned to where Tommy must have been standing. “I don’t want you to hurt him.”

“He doesn’t have to listen to you,” Ranboo said.

Tubbo held up a hand to him (rude) and continued talking to Tommy. “No! You’re not going to hurt him, he’s my friend!” A pause. “Thank you. Ranboo, you are in the clear.”

“Yeah, I’m not convinced.”

“He promised.”

“He’s a demon.”

Tubbo crossed his arms stubbornly. “I believe him.”

“He can’t stay here!” Ranboo exclaimed. “You remember how we left the Vault Mansion because there might have been a negative entity? I was thinking something along the lines of a demon! It’s not safe to be around him!”

“He takes offense to that.”

Tubbo said it so flippantly, but Ranboo’s blood immediately turned to ice in his veins. He’d somehow forgotten that despite the fact that he couldn’t see or hear Tommy, the demon could absolutely see and hear him. And Ranboo had just offended him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, mouth dry. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Dude, he’s not gonna kill you,” Tubbo told him.

“He might!”

“I won’t.”

Ranboo nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice. He spun around, trying to spot the demon, but he apparently remained invisible. Tommy had spoken to him. An actual demon had spoken to him.

“Did you hear him say that?” Tubbo asked.

“Yep.” Ranboo took a deep breath. “Yep, yep, sure did.”

“Can you still hear him?”

“Is he talking right now?”

“I’ll take that as a no,” Tubbo said. “He says he’s staying, and as long as you don’t hurt him, he won’t hurt you.”

“Why does he want to stay so bad?”

Tubbo went red at the demon’s answer. “He says he likes me.”

Great.

“All right. Well,” Ranboo sighed. “I’m not going back to work. Someone has to teach you how to not die.”

---

It took a while to get Tubbo sitting on the couch with a plastic bottle full of Prime water. To be fair, it was mostly Tommy’s fault—he’d kept throwing the bottle. According to Tubbo, he was fascinated by water and disgusted that the Prime water had been turned into something that could hurt him. Eventually, an agreement was reached; Tubbo could hold the bottle as long as the lid was firmly screwed on, and Tommy got his own glass of normal water. It probably didn’t look too strange to Tubbo, but all Ranboo could see was a floating cup that occasionally tilted sideways and poured water into nowhere. It was so weird.

“So,” he sighed, trying not to feel awkward about the fact that there was a demon sitting on his couch as he explained what demons were. “Demons are ancient creatures from hell. They’re supernatural but not undead, and-”

“Tommy says he’s not ancient,” Tubbo interrupted.

“He probably isn’t, from his perspective,” Ranboo said, doing his best to be patient. “Tommy, how old are you?” Tubbo’s eyes widened. “What did he say?”

“He’s four thousand and eighty-four.” A pause. “How old am I? Um, I’m seventeen.” The glass of water jostled as Tommy seemed to gesture emphatically. “Yes, Ranboo is also seventeen. No, we are not fetuses!”

“Um.” Ranboo tapped his fingers on his arm nervously. “If you don’t mind, Tommy, could you… show yourself to me? It’s just- this is a little awkward.”

“He says no because you’re a bitch,” Tubbo informed him. “Anyway, you were saying?”

Ranboo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Demons can be summoned from hell through specific rituals. They will grant favors in exchange for offerings and if the summoner doesn’t dismiss them after that trade, they can stick around the mortal world until someone banishes them. Banishing is-”

Tubbo cleared his throat. “Tommy says you couldn’t banish him if you tried.”

“He might be right,” Ranboo admitted. “Demons vary in strength. I definitely wouldn’t be enough to banish a powerful demon.”

“He says to tell you that he’s very powerful.”

“Awesome. So banishing is how you-”

“Um,” Tubbo interjected. “He doesn’t want you talking about that.”

Oh, dear. Ranboo was going to have to tread lightly.

“Well, it’s kind of something you should know,” he said slowly. “Just in case. What if you accidentally summon some other, uh, not as nice demon someday?” The divot in the couch that showed where Tommy was sitting disappeared. “O-okay,” Ranboo stammered.

“Tommy,” Tubbo said, an edge of anxiety in his voice that did absolutely nothing to soothe Ranboo. “He’s not going to banish you. Okay? I promise.”

The divot in the couch returned, and Ranboo sighed in relief. Tommy must have been talking, because Tubbo was staring intently at nothing. Was it really so hard for the demon to reveal himself? It was so weird, honestly-

“Ranboo, banishing hurts,” Tubbo reported, eyebrows furrowed. “Someone banished his brother once, and it- and it really hurt him.”

He turned to Ranboo, the unspoken you’re scaring him shining in his eyes.

Ranboo tried really hard not to feel bad about that. He tried really hard not to care, but Tubbo had triggered his empathy response, and suddenly he felt bad for a demon.

“Fine,” he said. “We don’t have to talk about banishing. For now.”

The floating water glass tilted sideways once again, and Ranboo wasn’t the slightest bit fascinated by it.

Chapter Text

Tubbo wasn’t an idiot—he could tell that Tommy put Ranboo on edge. He also wasn’t heartless, and the demon had damn convincing puppy dog eyes (how they managed to work despite the little red devil horns poking out from his blond hair was beyond Tubbo), so he was keen on letting him stay.

After Ranboo gave up trying to teach about demons in front of Tommy, he retreated to his room with a bunch of books that Tubbo really hoped weren’t about banishment. That left Tommy alone with Tubbo.

“So,” the demon said cheerfully. “You’re a child, right?”

“What?”

“A child,” he repeated. “A baby, maybe?”

“I’m not a baby!” Tubbo huffed. “I’m almost an adult.”

Tommy tilted his head to the side. “When do humans become adults?”

“When they’re eighteen.”

“That is far too young.”

Tubbo crossed his arms. “Well, when do demons become adults?”

Tommy shrugged. “We’re considered fully grown when we’re about five thousand.”

Five fucking thousand, holy-

Wait a minute.

“Hold on,” Tubbo said. “You told me you were four thousand and eighty-four.”

“Yeah.”

“So you’re a teenager, too!”

Tommy wrinkled his nose. “Don’t be absurd, Tubbo, I’m a big man.”

Tubbo pointed at him excitedly. “I knew you didn’t look like an adult!”

“Hey!” he exclaimed. “Just because I’m not an adult doesn’t mean I’m a child.”

“That is exactly what that means.”

“Is not,” Tommy grumbled. “I’m not a child. And you must not be one, either.”

Huh?

“Why not?” Tubbo asked. “I’m not eighteen. Legally, I’m still a minor.”

“A minor what?”

“A child,” Tubbo amended, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Legally, I’m a child.”

Tommy blinked innocently. “Then where’s your family?”

Oh.

Tubbo plastered on a smile. “Ranboo is my family.”

“Your brother?”

“No, uh, technically we’re engaged?” Tubbo told him. “But like… platonically. Since we live together, we’re gonna get married once we’re both eighteen for tax benefits.”

Tommy nodded in a way that Tubbo could tell meant he had no idea what taxes were. “Ah. Okay. But where are your parents?”

Goddammit, he wasn’t going to drop it, was he?

“I never had a mom. Not one I can remember, anyway, my dad refused to talk about her. Sometimes I think he just got me from the side of the road or something. Dunno.” Tubbo took a deep breath. “He’s gone now.”

“Gone?”

“Dead, probably.”

“You don’t know?” Tommy asked incredulously.

“I don’t.”

Well, he was pretty damn sure his dad was dead, but he hadn’t seen the body. He was also pretty sure that if Quackity hadn’t killed him, he would’ve handed Tubbo adoption papers rather than emancipation papers.

“How?” Tommy seemed genuinely confused. “Don’t you want to know?”

“Honestly? No,” Tubbo said. “He wasn’t… he wasn’t a good person. I’m just glad he’s gone.”

It was a lot more complicated than that, but that was the most basic form of the truth. His dad was gone, he wasn’t completely sure what had happened, and he was just glad to be rid of him. But if his theory was right and Quackity had killed his dad, he could get in serious trouble for that—no matter how much the bastard had deserved it. Tubbo didn’t want that for him. The less he looked into it all, the better.

“Oh,” Tommy said sadly. “What about Ranboo? Where’s his family?”

“You’ll have to ask him.”

For the first time since Tommy had shown up, the two of them sat in silence. Then Tommy wrapped him in a fucking hug.

“I’m sorry your dad was shit.”

Tubbo’s brain took a moment to process that. The demon sitting across from him that was thousands of years old and had been fully prepared to kill Ranboo if he deemed it necessary was genuinely sorry that he had a shit dad. And he was hugging him.

“You have a family, don’t you?” Tubbo said, unable to think of any other reason the demon would even know what a hug was. “You mentioned your brother earlier.”

Tommy stopped squeezing him to death in favor of picking up his glass of water again, like it was some kind of security blanket. “I have two brothers, actually! And a dad and a mum.”

“Huh.” Tubbo fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “And you all… get along?”

“Well, Wilbur’s a right prick and Techno is a pretentious bastard but- y’know.” Tommy shrugged. “We’re a family.”

A family of literal demons was more cohesive than Tubbo’s own had ever been. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with that.

“Can demons die?” he blurted.

For half a second, Tommy’s gaze turned suspicious. Tubbo bit his lip nervously and his expression softened.

“Sort of,” Tommy mumbled. “Not really die, but… we can go away. To a place that’s really bad.”

“And if your dad just went away, you’d be sad about it.”

“I’d go bring him back myself if I had to.”

Tubbo wished he’d had a dad that he loved like that. He’d even settle for a dad that was half-decent enough to miss just a little bit every now and then. But no matter how hard he searched his feelings, there wasn’t a smidgen of sorrow to be found.

“Now you’re sad,” Tommy observed.

“I’m fine.”

“You cheered me up when I was sad.” Tommy stood up on the couch. “Maybe if you let me choose you, then you can meet my dad!”

Tubbo laughed nervously. He had a feeling Tommy’s dad wouldn’t like him very much.

“That whole choosing thing you mentioned earlier,” he said. “What’s that about?”

“Oh!” Tommy positively beamed at him. “Hell might be great for demons, but we’ve been told that humans don’t like it very much, and we’d hate for the ones that we like to suffer. So we choose you, and then you don’t!”

Tubbo stared at him, waiting for more information. Tommy just smiled back at him like he’d explained everything.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need you to elaborate on that,” Tubbo requested.

“On which part?”

“All of it.”

Tommy raised an amused eyebrow. “Do you really not know anything?”

“I know plenty of things!” Tubbo huffed. “Just… not about demons! I’m pretty sure Ranboo doesn’t even have a clue what ‘choosing’ is!”

“He probably doesn’t,” Tommy agreed. “That man doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about, really, he seems quite stupid-”

“He isn’t,” Tubbo snapped defensively.

“Fine, fine.” Tommy put his hands up. “Let’s start from the very beginning, then. Summoning a demon is strong fucking magic, ‘kay? It creates a sort of bond between the soul of a person and hell. Got it?”

“... Sure.”

“So, when a human that has summoned a demon dies, their soul goes to hell.”

Tubbo’s brain short-circuited.

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted. “I accidentally summoned you, and now I’m going to fucking hell?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t want to go to hell!” he exclaimed. “Where does everyone else go?”

Tommy shrugged. “I dunno about everyone else, but there is some place called the Aether. Angels are secretive bastards about it, but Dad says hell is way cooler anyway.”

Tubbo pressed his hands to his face. “Oh, my god, I’m going to hell.”

“You don’t have to!” Tommy said quickly. “If I choose you, then you could stay in this world forever instead!”

“Wha- you mean I’d become immortal?”

“You’d age the same way I do!”

“And you’re offering me,” Tubbo clarified, “some guy you just met, immortality. Just like that.”

“Yep!”

Tubbo sank into the couch, trying and failing to process his new situation. “I-I can’t become immortal,” he stammered. “I couldn’t leave behind Ranboo, I couldn’t live forever, that would be so weird-”

“But I don’t want you to go to hell when you die,” Tommy stressed. “You wouldn’t like it.”

Tubbo chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, no shit!”

Ranboo’s door opened down the hall and he poked his head into the room—Tubbo could see he was holding the bottle of Prime water behind his back. His eyes flitted around the room like he was trying to find Tommy.

“You okay?” Ranboo asked urgently.

“Yeah, I’m good, boss man,” Tubbo assured him. “Just… talking to the demon I summoned on complete accident that has forever altered the course of my life.”

Tommy smiled. “Aw, I changed your life!”

Tubbo didn’t have the heart to tell him he hadn’t really meant it that positively.

“... Are you sure you’re good?” Ranboo asked.

“Yep!” Tubbo said. “Right as rain! Happy as a clam! Cool as a-”

“It kinda sounds like you’re having an existential crisis, dude.”

“Nope!”

Ranboo stepped into the living room. “Maybe-”

Tommy made a violent hissing sound that Ranboo must’ve been able to hear, because he immediately stopped moving and paled significantly.

“Hey, don’t fucking hiss at him,” Tubbo said.

“I don’t trust him with the Prime water,” Tommy muttered, glaring at him suspiciously.

“Tubbo, what’s going on?” Ranboo brandished the plastic water bottle like it was a weapon. “Why is the demon spitting at me like a cat?”

Tommy frowned. “A cat?”

“Okay, well, first of all, Tommy doesn’t know what a cat is, but I’m pretty sure he would take offense to that if he did,” Tubbo said. “Secondly, he’s mad that you have Prime water and thirdly, no, he still will not kill you.”

Tommy sniffed indignantly. “I know what a fuckin’ cat is. I’ve just never, y’know, seen one.”

“You’re sure he’s not gonna kill me?”

Tubbo groaned. “How am I supposed to leave you two alone when I go to work, hm?”

Both of them froze. Then, at the same time:

“I’m not staying here with him.”

Tubbo laughed so that he didn’t cry.

---

Tubbo left for work a solid two hours before he usually would after pleading with Tommy to behave while he was gone and making a weak excuse to Ranboo that he most definitely saw straight through. At least he let him get away with it.

Tubbo soon found himself staring into space on a park bench near the burger place. He could either live forever or go to hell. What the fuck was he supposed to do with that? Until a few hours ago, he hadn’t believed in hell or immortality, and now those were his only two options. God, what was he going to tell Ranboo? What was he going to choose?

He showed up to Tubburger exactly on time for his shift, painfully aware of the glazed-over look in his eyes. The burger joint was far from the nicest place on the block, but it held a special place in Tubbo’s heart. As much as he wanted to get a more exciting job, it was technically his restaurant. After he’d been emancipated, Quackity had been bound and determined to give him a well-paying job, but as a minor, Tubbo legally couldn’t work at his casino. He’d assured Quackity that it was okay and he’d figure something out. A couple days later, though, a burger shop that had totally “been in the works for a while now” was suddenly under construction next door and he was offering Tubbo the position of manager.

Well, Quackity hadn’t really offered—he’d just shown Tubbo the building and told him it was his.

Tubbo walked in through the back entrance, right next to the sinks. Purpled was there, washing what looked like the last of the dishes that needed to be done before the dinner rush. They offered each other curt nods, and Tubbo was perfectly happy not to make conversation—he had a little too much on his mind for that. Maybe he’d be able to make it through the whole seven hours without talking to anybody. All he’d have to do was get the third person on shift to work the front, and-

“TUBBO!”

Looked like he was making conversation.

“Hi, Fundy,” he sighed.

“How you been, man?” Fundy wore his casino uniform under his apron, his suspenders peeking out from beneath it. “I feel like you’re scheduling our shifts lately so that you don’t have to see me.”

“I’m not,” Tubbo assured him, tying on his own apron. “Could you work the front today? Purpled and I-”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Well, that had been surprisingly easy. “I’ve been doing dishes from the lunch rush for like three hours, anything to get out of that sink.”

“Hey!” Purpled said, still elbows deep in suds. “I did all the washing, you just put them away!”

“Putting them away is part of doing the dishes.”

“They’re already fucking done by the time-”

“Oh, give it a break,” Tubbo interrupted, massaging his temples. “I don’t have enough sanity for this right now.”

Purpled snorted. “Your shift literally just started.”

“It’s been a day, okay?”

“What happened?” Fundy asked. “You do kinda look like you saw a ghost or some shit.”

“Or some shit,” Tubbo muttered.

The unmistakable sound of the front door opening saved him from having to explain his words. Fundy hurried to the front of the store and laughed.

“Hey guys, Quackity’s here!”

Tubbo scrambled through the kitchen to the registers, where he was greeted by a smiling Quackity. “Tubbo!” he said warmly. “I thought I remembered you were working the dinner rush today, how are you?”

“Fine,” he lied, not objecting when Quackity reached over the counter to ruffle his hair. “I’m working the night shift, too, actually.”

“Wh- both of them?” Quackity sputtered. “Tubbo, you don’t have to-”

“I know. I’m the manager, I can do whatever I want.”

“Most people don’t want to work for seven hours straight,” Fundy said.

Purpled walked up while drying his hands. “I worked that yesterday, you’re just weak.”

“I- wh- hey!” Fundy sputtered.

“How was lunch?” Quackity asked, changing the subject with a grin.

“Pretty good,” Purpled reported. “Just barely finished all the dishes from it.”

“Nice!” Quackity congratulated. “I’ve got to get back to the casino, but I’ll be back in time for closing. Just thought I’d stop by and say hi to some of my favorite employees.”

“Favorite employee,” Fundy corrected, jabbing a finger in Tubbo’s direction.

“I appreciate you all equally.”

“Bullshit,” Purpled called.

Tubbo knew they were just joking around, but that for some reason that didn’t make him any less uncomfortable. He really didn’t have enough sanity for this.

It was going to be a long two shifts.

---

Tubbo was practically dead on his feet by the time closing came around. As far as he knew, at least, Tommy and Ranboo were probably both in one piece—he’d texted Ranboo a couple hours ago saying you still alive??? and within a minute he’d received the incredibly inspiring response of unfortunately. He let himself be optimistic about that situation so that he didn’t dissolve into a puddle of stress.

All the lights were off except the ones directly above the counter. Quackity, true to his word, had come back for closing and was even helping to count the money in the register. Fundy had weaseled his way into sticking around for the entire rest of the day just to spite Purpled, but he hadn’t done much for the last four hours and was really just watching Tubbo and Quackity count the money. He yawned, and Tubbo involuntarily copied him.

“Long day, huh?” Quackity remarked.

“I’m fine.”

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed, sounding unconvinced.

“He did lots of stuff,” Fundy mumbled sleepily. “‘Course he’s tired.”

“You didn’t do jackshit,” Tubbo pointed out.

“Did lots.” He yawned again. “On my earlier shifts.”

Quackity shook his head. “You really oughta go home, man. You’re gonna show up to work tomorrow so tired people will tease you for being hungover.”

“‘M not drunk.”

Quackity sighed. “Coulda fooled me.” Tubbo handed him the last envelope of money. “Thanks, Tubbo. I’ll be right back.”

He stood up and crossed the dining room to the table where he’d put his briefcase. Tubbo watched him without really watching him, mind busy thinking about his inescapable new predicament.

“Fundy?” he said before he could think to stop himself.

“Hmmm?”

“If I died right now, do you think I’d go to hell?”

Fundy laughed a little. “Well, you work here, so… I’d say the chances are pretty good.”

“I heard that!” Quackity yelled across the room. “You’re not going to hell, Tubbo, what the fuck? Why would you even ask that?”

“Just joking around!” Tubbo told him.

Fundy nodded slowly. “Very good joke,” he slurred.

Tubbo didn’t really like lying to Quackity—the man had been nothing but nice to him. But between that and telling the truth about this particular situation… well. A little lying wouldn’t hurt.

Chapter Text

No offense to Tubbo—Tommy quite liked him, he would never offend his favorite human—but it was unwise to leave a demon unsupervised.

Tubbo had very kindly requested that he stay in the apartment and not kill Ranboo, and Tommy was perfectly happy to comply with that. He was, however, very bored, and Ranboo was right there.

He wasn’t going to kill him, but he did want to have a little fun.

Tommy even held out for a few hours before he decided to cause problems. Tubbo would appreciate the effort, he hoped. Tommy didn’t bother being subtle about pushing Ranboo’s bedroom door open—it wasn’t like his presence should come as any surprise. Ranboo still jumped.

“Tommy?” he called. “Could you- could you maybe leave me alone? Please?” Tommy didn’t respond. “Hello?”

After a moment, Ranboo turned back to his desk, and Tommy snickered softly to himself. The human had a bunch of books and a funny glowing device out. He consulted one of the pages and then started slamming his fingers into the glowing device, producing a loud clacking noise.

“You are very stupid,” Tommy told Ranboo, amused that he could insult him without him even hearing. “Look at you, slapping your hands around like that. So stupid. I don’t understand why Tubbo seems to like you so much.” There were words on the glowing device—Tommy narrowed his eyes at them. “‘Everything to know before summoning a demon,’” he read. “Well, kinda late for that, innit? Did humans write this? I wonder how wrong they are.” The device’s display suddenly changed to something else. “Hey! I was reading that.”

Tommy reached forward and began tapping random buttons, trying to get the article to come back. Ranboo promptly freaked out.

“Stop!” he exclaimed. “You’ll break it, Tommy, please-”

He took his hands off the device with a sigh. “Fine. Fine.”

Ranboo carefully adjusted his mask, breathing heavily. “I thought you left or something, you scared me.”

Okay? So?

Tommy lifted the spiked tip of his tail to the desk and carved a quick greeting on its surface.

hi

Ranboo stared at the message, one hand frozen over his mouth. “Can you… can you maybe not deface my furniture?”

Tommy giggled and underlined the word.

“Hi to you, too, Tommy, is that what you wanted?”

He shrugged. “No, but it’s funny, so I’ll accept it.”

“Can you leave me alone now? Please?”

“Nah, it’s funny when you’re all clueless and scared and shit,” he said. “Sorry bitch boy.”

Tommy made one more attempt to go back to the interesting page of information. Ranboo groaned.

“Can you just tell me what you want?” he requested. “It’d make things much easier for both of us.”

Tommy pushed one of his books off the desk. “That’d take all the fun out of it.”

“Don’t do that.” Tommy did it again. “Those books weren’t easy to come by.” He nudged another one close to the edge and Ranboo slapped a hand on it before he could do anything. “What do you want?”

“It’s a little funny to watch you suffer,” Tommy admitted to no one, tugging lightly on the book.

“Y’know what?” Ranboo leaned over and rummaged through a backpack before pulling out some kind of funky box. “If you’re gonna be like this, we’re doing things the old-fashioned way.”

He clicked a button, and the air started screaming.

Tommy waved his hands around wildly, hoping to somehow make it go away. “What the fuck?” he exclaimed.

“Yeah, I don’t like it either, man,” Ranboo sighed.

“Wha-” Tommy blinked in surprise. “Can you hear me?”

“Hear you?” Ranboo repeated uncertainly. “Uh, not super well, but yes. I can hear you.”

“Bitch.”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. Bit-”

“Please stop.”

Tommy crossed his arms. “What is that?”

“It’s called a spirit box. It lets me hear you.” Ranboo fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “Can I ask you some questions?” Tommy didn’t bother answering him. “Well, that wasn’t a no. Why are you here?”

“Tubbo summoned me, dipshit.”

Ranboo pinched the bridge of his nose. “What are you going to do now that you are here?”

Tommy shrugged. “Have fun.”

“Could you define ‘fun’ for me?”

Fucking hell, this human was exhausting.

“Big man shit.”

“Sorry, could you repeat that?”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “I’m going to torture people and feed on their despair.”

Ranboo suddenly went very pale. “What?” he asked in a small voice.

Did he think Tommy was actually serious? He’d give up water to be able to call the human stupid without him hearing it again.

“Kidding,” Tommy sighed. “I’m just kidding.”

That didn’t seem to soothe Ranboo very much. If anything, he only seemed to get more nervous, graduating from occasionally tugging the hem of his shirt to actively fiddling with the cuffs of it.

“You still owe Tubbo a favor, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to trick him?”

“No.”

Ranboo put his face in his hands and groaned. “I don’t even know why I should believe you.”

“I like Tubbo.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“I don’t like you.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured.” Ranboo paused. “Can I ask why?” Tommy poked the same button that Ranboo had used to turn the spirit box on, and sighed in relief when the air quieted down. “Guess not.”

“It’s because Tubbo was scared of you,” Tommy said, delighting in the fact that Ranboo couldn’t hear him. “Until I know for sure that you wouldn’t let anything hurt him… I’m not gonna like you. Deal with it.”

Ranboo couldn’t know any of that, though, otherwise he’d start performing for Tommy, trying to prove his worth. He got enough performances from Wilbur. Ranboo would have to figure things out on his own.

Just for fun, Tommy pushed one of the books off of Ranboo’s desk.

“Welp.” Ranboo closed his glowing device. “I give. For now. I’ll stop researching what to do about you for tonight if you leave me alone.”

“What to do about me?” Tommy laughed. “You couldn’t do anything about me if you tried. But maybe I’ll bother you less, if you’re being so polite.”

“Deal?” Ranboo asked.

Tommy picked up the books he’d knocked over earlier and placed them back on the desk. “Deal,” he muttered.

Despite the mask, Tommy could tell Ranboo was smiling. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said. “Wow. I just- I just bargained with a demon.” Tommy kicked the desk lightly to remind him that he was still there. “Hey!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Tommy muttered. “You’re just so weird all the time. You know that? You probably don’t, actually, because you can’t hear me without the fuckin’ screamy box. Bitch.”

Ranboo picked up a funny cup and lowered his mask to stick a thin metal tube in his mouth. Tommy had noticed him doing the same thing earlier—he seemed to be drinking water that way. Tommy didn’t know very much about water, but he was pretty sure that was a strange way to consume it. When Ranboo put the thing back down, Tommy poked the thin tube curiously and it clinked against the side of the cup.

“Careful,” Ranboo said.

“With what, exactly?” Tommy poked it again.

Ranboo seemed to catch on, tilting his head to the side. “Do you know what that is?” Tommy jostled the thing aggressively to communicate that no, he did not. “It’s a straw. That’s how I drink water.”

Tommy grabbed the spirit box and turned it on, shouted “why?” and then immediately turned it back off.

Ranboo laughed. “You really wanna know, huh? How do I put this, um… I don’t like to touch water. It makes me feel bad.” Tommy noted that for later. “Does that make sense?”

Tommy turned the spirit box on again. “Yes.” And back off.

“You know, if you want to talk to me, you can just do that.”

“You don’t deserve the beautiful sound of my voice.” Tommy turned the spirit box on one more time. “No.”

“Well, please stop doing that. Here.” Ranboo dug a pencil and a crumpled piece of paper out of his desk. “Just write what you want to say, how about that?”

Tommy grabbed the pencil immediately. Fuck you, bitch.

“Seriously?”

That’s what I wanted to say.

“Unbelievable.” Something buzzed loudly, and Ranboo took a small black brick out of his pocket. “Oh, Tubbo texted.”

Texted?

That’s a phone! Tommy wrote down excitedly.

“Uh, yeah, actually,” Ranboo said, looking at the paper. “How did you know that?”

Wilbur had told him all about phones (he thought they were very cool), but Tommy just wrote none of your business. He paused, then added one more thing. Bitch.

“Fine. Tubbo wants to know if I’m still alive.” Ranboo tapped on the screen, and little letters popped up that said unfortunately. “There.”

That was very rude of him. Tommy was a joy to spend time with—he’d even agreed to be nice for a little while.

Unfortunately? Tommy wrote questioningly.

“Yeah, given that I’m babysitting a demon my friend accidentally summoned, I’d say my current living status is unfortunate.”

I’m offended. Tommy watched Ranboo intently, curious how he’d react and only the slightest bit offended.

“Please don’t kill me,” Ranboo sighed flatly.

Tommy laughed—maybe he was a little funny, now that he wasn’t terrified. Okay.

“I made you laugh?”

Tommy froze. What?

“You laughed just now. I heard it.” Ranboo drummed his fingers on the desk. “Was I- was I not supposed to hear that?”

Shit, Tommy was letting his guard down. Of course I meant to grace you with my laughter.

“You bitch,” he said aloud and to no one, for good measure.

“Ah. Of course.” Ranboo picked up the bottle of Prime water that was on the floor nearby. “Y’know, I had this really cool idea where I was gonna put this in a spray bottle and shoot it at you when you got too close.”

As much as Tommy would have wanted to murder him if he had done so, he supposed he could appreciate a chaotic innovation when he heard one.

You’re not gonna do that now?

“Nah.”

Why not?

“Doesn’t sound like as much fun anymore.”

I still think annoying you sounds like fun.

Couldn’t let him get too comfortable. Ranboo just snorted in amusement.

“You’re not the only one. Tubbo can pull a pretty great prank, when he wants to.”

Good.

“Sure,” Ranboo chuckled. “Good. Of course you’d say that.” He was silent for a moment. “And you promise you’re not gonna hurt him?”

“Trust issues, much?” Tommy muttered, scrawling down a reply.

I would never hurt Tubbo. He paused. Would you?

“What? No!” Ranboo exclaimed. “He’s my best friend.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes at him. He was scared when he realized you were coming home.

“Scared?”

Of what you would do to him. Because of me.

“I-I’m not happy you’re here,” Ranboo admitted. “I’m still a little scared, because I’m not sure entirely who you are yet. But I would never hurt Tubbo. Ever.” He jolted a little, like he’d had a realization. “Is that why you don’t like me? You think Tubbo is in danger when I’m around?”

Well. Tommy wasn’t sure what to say to that. Damn Ranboo and his stupid human brain connecting the dots.

“I liked it better when you were stupid,” he said, carefully keeping his words away from Ranboo’s ears.

“I swear I’m not a danger to him. Or- or you. As long as you keep your word.” He took a very deep breath. “But if you are lying to me, and you do hurt Tubbo, I will not rest until you’re banished.”

Those were awfully strong words. Tommy knew he should probably be offended by the threat, but how could he be mad at Ranboo for wanting to protect Tubbo? Good for him, honestly—a few hours ago he could barely stand being in the same room as Tommy, and now he was threatening him. And it wasn’t like Tommy was lying, so he’d never have to follow through on the threat anyway.

He’d probably want a reply to that, huh?

That’s fair.

Ranboo breathed a sigh of relief. “So we’re good?”

Tommy shrugged. Meh.

“Meh,” Ranboo read aloud. “Y’know what? I’ll take it.”

Chapter Text

Tommy left Ranboo alone for the rest of the night. Eventually, he stopped writing replies to his questions and the energy in the room just… changed somehow, and Ranboo knew that he left. He wasn’t entirely sure where he’d gone—to sleep, maybe? There was, however, a very real possibility that demons didn’t sleep. Ranboo didn’t hear the door open, though, so he wasn’t too worried.

Tubbo came home at a quarter to one and promptly face-planted onto Ranboo’s bed. “Long day?” he asked.

“Work was shit.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Stressed.”

“Why?”

Tubbo looked up with a confused expression, like he was trying to gather his thoughts, before his eyes suddenly flew open. “Where the fuck is Tommy?”

“I dunno, I can’t see him.”

“Ranboo, did you lose the demon?”

“He’s your demon!”

“I didn’t mean to-”

The bedroom door slammed open for no apparent reason which could only mean Tommy had done it. It nearly gave Ranboo a heart attack, but Tubbo sighed in relief.

“Hi, Tommy. I missed you, too.” Tubbo glanced at Ranboo. “Sounds like you two got along all right?”

“Yeah,” Ranboo said with a small smile. “He’s… decent.”

“Well, he says you’re not a complete bitch, which I think is high praise,” Tubbo laughed. “Glad you’re both still alive.”

“Me, too.”

A phone started buzzing incessantly. Ranboo absently made sure it wasn’t his, even though he was fairly confident it wasn’t, just in case. Tubbo patted down his pockets until he found his phone and answered the call.

“Hi,” he muttered tiredly, holding up a finger in what must’ve been Tommy’s direction to ask for patience. “Yes, Big Q, I made it home just fine. I’m going to bed soon, I swear.” He paused. “Yeah, Ranboo’s here, why?” Tubbo shrugged after a moment and held the phone out to him. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Oh.” Ranboo took the device and cleared his throat. “Hi, Quackity.”

“You should be in bed, too,” he sighed from the other end of the line. “It’s past midnight, you kids need to get some goddamn sleep.”

Ranboo looked at Tubbo and raised his eyebrows. What’s the best way to tell him this is normal?

Tubbo hesitated for half a second before he shook his head violently. Don’t.

“Yep, uh, yep, we’re just getting to that,” Ranboo said. “Since it’s, y’know…” Tubbo should’ve been the one to do the lying, he was so much better at it. “... Way past our bedtime.”

Tubbo face-palmed.

“I see,” Quackity replied slowly. “Well, tell Tubbo to stop scheduling himself for the night shift. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”

“Yep, yep, I’ll do that.”

Tubbo flipped off an invisible Tommy. “Stop saying ‘yep,’ you idiot!” he hissed quietly. “Tommy’s mocking you!”

Ranboo gestured vaguely in frustration back at him.

“That apartment still working for you guys?” Quackity asked.

“It’s great. The, uh, the smoke detector broke, but it’s fine.”

“Do I want to know how that happened?”

“Okay, that was not our fault,” Ranboo told him honestly. “It just doesn’t work anymore.”

“And you know that how?”

Ranboo pursed his lips. “No reason.”

“I’ll call someone about getting it fixed.”

“You don’t have to do that, man, we’ve got it covered.”

“Ranboo, I am either getting that smoke detector fixed or I am getting you guys a whole new goddamn place.”

“You need an intervention on spending your entire fortune on two random kids,” Ranboo laughed.

“Neither of you is  random,” Quackity objected.

“You literally grabbed me off the street.”

“By choice.” Tubbo was staring down Tommy and repeatedly dragging his hand across his throat in a cut it out or so help me god kind of motion; Ranboo decided that he didn’t want to know. “Besides, it’s three kids, Purpled would be very upset that you left him out.”

“Get something nice for yourself, Quackity. Please.”

He chuckled. “That’s the beauty of being filthy rich, kid, I can spoil the shit out of you guys and have nice things.”

“Donate to a charity, then.”

“You guys are my charity.”

“Thanks a bunch,” Ranboo mumbled.

“What? It’s for a good cause.” The sound of a car starting up came through the speaker. “I’ve got to go. See you guys soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Ranboo said. “Bye, Quackity.”

“Bye.”

Ranboo hung up the phone and handed it back to Tubbo. “What’d he say?”

“He told me to tell you to quit scheduling yourself for the night shift.”

Tubbo snorted. “If I’m not gonna listen to him, I’m sure as hell not gonna listen to you. No offense.”

“None taken.” Ranboo looked around, like that was somehow going to help him spot an invisible demon. “What was up with Tommy?”

“Nothing,” Tubbo said quickly.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing you’d want to hear about.”

“Y’know what, that’s fair,” Ranboo sighed.

“When’s our next ghost hunting trip?” Tubbo asked.

Ranboo tilted his head to the side curiously. “Are you… excited about it?”

Tubbo blushed. “A little!”

“I dunno. Maybe tomorrow night? I dunno. I’ll plan us a fun one.”

“Great.” There was a pause. “Can we bring Tommy?”

“No.”

“He actually agrees with you on that one,” Tubbo mused. “Huh.” He yawned. “I might go to bed early tonight.”

“It’s almost one AM.”

“That’s early for us.”

“Suppose it is.”

Tubbo rolled over. “‘Night, Boo.”

“Go to your own bed.”

“But I’m already here,” Tubbo whined.

“Nope. Own bed. Now,” Ranboo said. “Or I carry you to it.”

“Oh, fuck off, Tommy, he couldn’t carry me,” Tubbo huffed.

“I so could.”

“But you won’t.” Tubbo dragged himself into a standing position dramatically. “See you in the morning.”

“‘Night.”

“‘Night.”

---

Ranboo woke up to a pillow being thrown at his face.

“Five more minutes, Tubbo.” The pillow hit him again. “Leave me alone, it’s Saturday.”

He blinked his eyes open slowly when he didn’t get a response. A pillow hovered over him in the air briefly before it was brought down on his head.

“Oh,” Ranboo mumbled. “Hi, Tommy.”

The unmistakable sound of a spirit box cut through the air. “Get up,” the demon said.

Ranboo pulled his blanket over his head. “Where did you get that?”

“Left it on-” Tommy was briefly cut off by static. “-desk.”

“Put it away.”

“No.”

“What the fuck is that sound?” Tubbo yelled from the kitchen.

“Tommy stole my spirit box,” Ranboo called back.

“Shut it off!”

“Yeah, Tommy,” Ranboo huffed, slowly getting out of bed. “Shut it off.”

“Fine.”

The spirit box went quiet. Over on the desk, the pencil stood up on its own as Tommy started to write. He then crumpled up the message and threw it at Ranboo. A single word was written on the paper: breakfast.

“Suppose I should get in there before Tubbo summons another demon,” Ranboo sighed. “Smells good, doesn’t it?”

If Tommy responded, he didn’t hear it. Tubbo was in the kitchen flipping pancakes. He beamed when Ranboo walked in.

“Good morning!”

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Ranboo said with a yawn.

“We have officially survived twenty-four hours living with a demon,” Tubbo told him. “I’m proud of us.”

“You were gone for a lot of that.”

“Shut up. We survived.”

Ranboo leaned against the wall. “You gonna redeem that favor any time soon, or are we looking at another week with him?”

An odd shadow passed across Tubbo’s face, but it was gone as soon as it came. “Dunno. He likes being here, though.”

“Well, if he’s gonna stick around for a bit, we should know more about him,” Ranboo said. “Like, for instance, which demon he is.”

“What d’you mean?”

“Well- hang on.” Ranboo hurried back to his room, grabbed a book off his desk, and brought it over to the dining room table. “There are a lot of demons. Occultists are pretty sure that we know at least a little about each of them, though.”

Tubbo made his way to the table, handing Ranboo a plate of pancakes. “Is that one of the books you talked Quackity into getting you?”

“Yeah.” Ranboo tapped on the cover. “It’s basically the best encyclopedia of demons there is.”

“Tommy thinks it’s lame and probably very inaccurate.”

“That’s nice.” Ranboo flipped the book open to a random page. “Every demon has a domain—greed, death, vengeance, all that good stuff. If we can figure out what Tommy is, we’ll have a little more insight into what makes him tick, and that’ll probably be best for all of us.”

“He’s very intrigued by that book,” Tubbo reported.

“He’s not mad?”

“Nope.” Tubbo paused. “He kind of agrees with you, actually.”

“Wow.” Ranboo blinked in surprise. “Okay. Well, we know that he has a brother, let’s start there.”

“He has two, actually.”

“Okay, that should narrow it down even more,” Ranboo muttered, skimming pages as he flipped through them.

Tubbo drummed his fingers on the table. “Have you tried just, like… asking him what his domain is?”

“I don’t feel like he’d tell me.”

“I will bet you so much money he’ll tell me.” Tubbo shifted to face where Tommy must have been standing, which was apparently directly over Ranboo’s shoulder. “Hey, Tommy, which demon are you?” There was a pause. “He says he’s the Demon of Chaos.”

“What- seriously?”

“Yep.”

“Okay…” Ranboo found the page relatively quickly. “Here we go, the Demon of Chaos. Says here that his name is Theseus.”

“Your accent is horrible,” Tubbo said. “His words, not mine.”

“It literally just says Theseus. Like the Greek hero.”

“Apparently you’re saying it wrong.”

Ranboo crossed his arms. “Well, how should I say it?”

From right next to his ear came a series of hissing and growling that made Ranboo’s hair stand on end. It vaguely sounded like a strange, demonic version of Theseus.

“Um.” Tubbo looked pale. “Like that, I think.”

“All right,” Ranboo managed to say, quickly reading over Tommy’s entry in the book. “Cool, cool, cool.”

“Anyway.” Tubbo cleared his throat pointedly. “What does it say?”

“Surprisingly little,” Ranboo reported. “Like. Astonishingly little. Besides his name, all there really is in here are references to his family.”

“Well, he’d never been summoned before I did it, maybe that explains it?”

Ranboo nodded. “That would definitely explain it.”

“He thinks it’s very cool that he’s mysterious,” Tubbo told him. “Anyway, what does it say about his brothers?”

“Um, they’re War and Insanity,” Ranboo said. “That’s a fun combination. I’m not gonna even try to pronounce their names. As for the rest of the family…” Ranboo raised his eyebrows. “Do you want the good news, the bad news, or the really bad news first?”

“Tommy says it’s all good news.”

“Well, Tommy isn’t a human.”

Tubbo sighed. “Just lay it all on me, boss man.”

“The good news is his dad’s an angel.”

“Oh!”

“The bad news,” Ranboo continued, “is that he’s a fallen angel, and an honorary demon. The really bad news is that he fell because he married Tommy’s mom, who is the Demon of Death, and, uh… Queen of Hell.”

“Oh.” Tubbo’s eyes were wide. “That’s interesting. So he’s not just any demon, he’s…”

“A Prince of Hell, yeah.” The book in front of Ranboo abruptly slammed closed. “Tommy?”

“He doesn’t like the way you’re talking about his parents,” Tubbo said nervously.

“Sorry,” Ranboo apologized. “It’s just, like, the idea that I’m living with a literal Prince of Hell scares me a little. Like. Y’know.” Why was his mouth so dry? “What if I mess up with you somehow and your mom decides to smite me, or-”

“Tommy, no!” Tubbo suddenly exclaimed.

“What?” Ranboo couldn’t see what was going on, and that only made him more anxious. “What’s happening?”

Tubbo ignored him. “He didn’t mean to offend you, death just tends to scare mortals! That’s all! I’m sure your mother is very nice, now put it down-!”

Put what down?

Ranboo got his answer when he was abruptly doused with water.

He hadn’t even noticed Tommy pick up the glass. Panic immediately ripped through him. Ranboo scrambled to get his now-wet mask off his face. It’s going to hurt, it’s going to hurt, it’s going to hurt-

“Ranboo!” Tubbo cried. “Shit, are you okay?”

“I- yeah,” Ranboo wheezed, frantically trying to wring out his shirt with shaking fingers. “I took my meds last night. I think- I think I’m okay.”

The fact that the water didn’t immediately irritate his skin didn’t change the fact that he expected it to. He hated the way water felt—before he’d figured out he was legitimately allergic to the stuff and gotten treated, touching water had always meant pain.

“Tommy, you can’t fucking do that, okay?” Tubbo snapped. “You can’t splash him!”

Ranboo wiped his wet hair out of his face. “I’m gonna go, um, change.”

He hurried back to his room, ignoring Tubbo’s calls for him and even the soft “sorry” he could’ve sworn he heard in an unfamiliar voice. Tommy was a demon. Ranboo had told him he didn’t like to touch water, and he’d then thrown a glass of the stuff on him. On purpose.

Ranboo slammed his bedroom door behind him. Tommy was a demon—he shouldn’t have expected anything less.

Chapter Text

To say that Tubbo panicked when the water hit Ranboo was an understatement.

Tubbo had been there for him since forever—in Ranboo’s eyes, at least. Tubbo had been the one that Quackity had trusted to take care of a homeless kid that couldn’t remember where he’d come from and flinched every time he touched water. He’d gone with Ranboo to pick up his meds once he was finally diagnosed and watched as he washed his hands for the first time without pain, only to realize that he couldn’t stop hating the feeling of it. Tubbo knew probably as much about Ranboo as Ranboo knew about himself, so he knew the second the water hit his skin that things were about to go extremely south.

Ranboo was slamming his door behind him before Tubbo could try to comfort him. Tommy, to his credit, at least looked stricken.

“What happened?” the demon asked.

“Why would you do that?” Tubbo fired back.

“I was upset!” Tommy exclaimed. “He was saying mean shit about my parents, and I know he probably didn’t mean it but I was still mad, and he said he didn’t like water-”

Tubbo’s brain short-circuited.

“You knew he didn’t like water?” he demanded. “And you still decided to splash him?”

“I didn’t know it was like that!” Tommy gestured dramatically toward Ranboo’s room. “He just said it made him feel bad!”

Tubbo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tommy, do you know what an allergy is?”

“No?”

“Okay,” Tubbo sighed. “Do you know what it means to be sick?”

Tommy nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah!”

“Well,” Tubbo said. “An allergy is kind of like a sickness that gets triggered by certain things. Ranboo has a really bad case of something called aquagenic urticaria, which means that when he touches water, he sort of… gets a little sick.”

Far from the best explanation, but it would have to do. Tommy’s eyes widened.

“I hurt him?” he asked anxiously.

“Not really? Ranboo takes pills every day to make sure he won’t, y’know, die or anything-”

“Die?” Tommy cried.

“He’ll be fine!” Tubbo said quickly. “Physically, at least. But he really hates touching water. He associates the feeling of it with pain. He’s probably really pissed with you.”

Tommy sat down on the couch, pulling his knees up to his chin. “I just wanted to mess with him a little bit.”

“At least you didn’t mean to,” Tubbo said, trying to console himself as much as he was Tommy. “I’m going to go check on him.”

“Okay,” Tommy mumbled. “I’ll- I’ll wait.”

Tubbo hurried down the hall. Ranboo’s door was shut and Tubbo was willing to bet locked as well. He knocked on it gently.

“Ranboo?” he called. “Ranboo?”

“Go away.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you wanna open the door?”

“No.”

“Do you wanna talk?”

“No.”

Tubbo bit his lip. “Tommy’s worried about you.” He didn’t say anything back. “Ranboo?”

“I said go away.”

Reluctantly, Tubbo left. Sometimes Ranboo just needed a little time on his own. Tubbo always had the urge to swoop in and try to fix things, but leaving Ranboo to work it out on his own was best. Sometime within the next day or so, he’d wordlessly emerge from his room and curl up on the couch. He’d let Tubbo join him and eventually, he’d talk. It was standard procedure at this point.

That didn’t mean Tubbo didn’t worry about him while he waited for him to come out of isolation.

Tommy looked up attentively as Tubbo reentered the living room. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” Tubbbo sat down heavily beside the demon. “Just a little upset.”

“You seem a little upset, too.”

“I am.”

Tommy grimaced slightly. “You’re upset with me, aren’t you?”

“Kind of,” Tubbo sighed. “I know you didn’t mean to really hurt him, but you did. And you just- you don’t make things easy. You don’t let Ranboo see you or hear you and don’t do much besides be here.” Tubbo turned to look at him cluelessly. “Why are you still here?”

“It’d be very rude of me to leave without fulfilling your favor.”

“I won’t take offense,” Tubbo told him. “Don’t you have a family waiting for you to come home?”

Tommy’s face fell. “Do you not want me around anymore?”

“That’s not it,” Tubbo said quickly. “The thing is, I want you to be happy and I want Ranboo to be happy and I want me to be happy. And none of those things seem to be happening while we’re together.”

Tommy looked away. “I was happy until five minutes ago.”

“I like you. Honestly. I want you to stick around, and you’re very pogchamp.” Tommy cracked a weak imitation of a grin at that. “But you stress me out, man.”

“Sorry. I don’t mean to.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s kind of the problem.”

“So… you don’t want me to choose you?”

Tubbo winced at the thought of that impossible decision. “Let’s not talk about that for now.”

Tommy seemed to brighten the tiniest bit at the fact that he hadn’t said no. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Sure.”

“I could tell you more about my family.”

Tubbo shifted on the couch, trying to get comfier and ignore all the worries plaguing his mind. “Do you miss them?”

“Lots,” Tommy said. “I know they’re excited for me though. My first summoning is- y’know.” He cleared his throat importantly. “A big deal.”

“So your brothers and parents… they get summoned a lot?”

“You have no idea.” Tommy’s eyes lit up just talking about his family. “Mum’s too busy to take her summonings, but since she’s Queen of Hell and really fuckin’ cool and all, she just gives them to my dad. He’s a fallen angel, so he doesn’t really get summoned the same way as the rest of us. My brothers, though- oh, man,” Tommy laughed. “They’re two of the most popular demons in hell.”

“War and Insanity, right?”

“Yup. Techno—he’s War—has his own cult.”

Tubbo raised his eyebrows. “A cult?”

“They give him so much gold, you have no idea,” Tommy said. “Wilbur—my other brother—takes most of it. He gives it to his chosen human, sometimes, and-” he suddenly cut himself off. “You didn’t want to talk about that, sorry.”

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Tubbo didn’t want to talk about it, but if he was going to make an informed decision about being chosen, then… it was probably wise to talk about it.

“It’s fine,” Tubbo told him. “These, uh, chosen human guys. Are they common?”

Tommy shook his head. “Very rare. But there have been a bunch of new ones in recent years.”

“And by ‘recent years’ you mean…” Tubbo prompted.

“The last couple centuries, give or take.”

“And by ‘a bunch’ you mean…?”

“Two. Almost three, but that one did not work out very well.” Tubbo fixed him with a questioning stare. “What?” Tommy asked. “There are only four of them, two is a lot!”

“Four?” Tubbo repeated. “Total? Like, ever?”

Tommy nodded, his hair flopping up and down as he did so. “They’re all still alive, since they’re immortal and shit. I could try and see if you could meet one!”

Tubbo leaned further into the couch, half-hoping that the cushions would just consume him. Four total. Total. Surely Tommy had to put him through some rigorous vetting process. Was he really just throwing out something that big of a deal right after meeting him?

“I think I would like to stop talking about this now,” Tubbo muttered.

“Oh! Okay.” Tommy pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I wish you could meet my family,” he finally said. “They’d like you.”

“I’m flattered.”

Tommy gasped violently. “I know a way that you could meet Wilbur without having to summon him!” he exclaimed. “Well. Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“It’s a long story, but we could do it!” Tommy was practically vibrating with excitement. “And I could check in with him, and he’d know I'm doing okay. Oh, this is brilliant!”

Tubbo sat up. “How would we go about doing that?”

“The words to summon me are carved on this tower by a ravine, right?” Tommy said. “We just have to go there.”

“Pogtopia?”

“Yeah!”

“Why?”

“He’ll be there.” Tommy stood up. “You’ve been there before, haven’t you?”

Tubbo nodded. “A bit ago, yeah. You really want to go?”

“I really fuckin’ wanna go.”

Tubbo considered his options. As risky as letting Tommy outside sounded, it probably wasn’t wise to keep a literal force of chaos stuck in an apartment. And taking Tommy ghost hunting was a terrible idea, sure, but was it really ghost hunting if they were just seeing his brother? Tubbo had work tomorrow night—if he didn’t do it today, he wasn’t going to be able to do it for a while.

Tubbo sighed, wondering just how big of a mistake he was making. “All right. I’ll ask Ranboo if he wants to come.”

Tommy cheered loudly. Tubbo almost told him to quiet down before remembering that he was the only one that could hear the demon. He headed back down the hall and knocked on Ranboo’s door once again.

“Sorry to bother you, boss man,” he said. “Tommy and I are going on a trip. Do you want to come?” No response. “Ranboo?” Nothing. “You still in there?”

Starting to get concerned, Tubbo tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. He eased it open as quietly as he could. Ranboo was curled up in his bed—Tubbo could see his chest rising and falling slowly. He was either sleeping or doing a damn good job of faking it.

Tubbo hesitated to leave without running the idea by him, but… he’d already told Tommy they could go. And Wilbur had a chosen human, so he could hopefully provide valuable input on Tubbo’s decision. Plus, the idea of telling Ranboo about his predicament made him squirm—he’d worry. Tubbo pulled out his phone and sent Ranboo a quick text for him to see when he woke up and hoped he wouldn’t be too upset when they came back.

Tubbo grabbed the keys from their hook by the door. Tommy followed close behind him.

“What are those?” he asked.

Tubbo grinned. “Tommy, do you know what a car is?”

The demon’s eyes lit up. “Are we going in a car?”

“Yup.”

Tommy jumped up and down excitedly. Tubbo held his hands out, trying to calm him down—he didn’t want to have to explain what he’d been doing when the apartment below them lodged a noise complaint.

“Hey, hey!” Tubbo got his hands on Tommy’s shoulders. “Chill, man!”

“Let’s go!”

“Okay, okay!” Tubbo’s hand hovered over the door handle. “Look, when we’re out there, you can’t leave my sight. Under any circumstances. Got it?”

“Yes, I’ve got it, now open the door, I want to go!”

Tubbo pulled the door open and Tommy promptly booked it down the hall.

“Wrong way!” Tubbo called.

Tommy turned on a dime, tail swishing. He sprinted to the other side of the hall in three seconds flat. The way he moved was distinctly inhuman—Tubbo had only seen him in the narrow confines of the apartment. He’d never seen him like this, with room to run. It was fascinating. And, admittedly, a little anxiety-inducing. Tubbo hadn’t missed the fact that Tommy’s teeth were just a bit too sharp to be human. The idea of him running full-tilt at him, teeth bared, was terrifying.

But Tommy would never attack him. Tubbo was remarkably certain of that.

“Come on,” he said, leading the way down the stairs. “The car’s down here.”

The Beeboobile really wasn’t much to look at. It, like many things in Tubbo’s life, was a gift from Quackity. It was by no means new, though—by the time Tubbo and Ranboo could drive, they’d received plenty from Quackity already and had refused a new car. Naturally, Quackity just happened to have the old Volkswagen Beetle rusting in a garage somewhere. Even though they’d fixed it up, the car wasn’t anything special to look at—it had its fair share of tiny dents and the yellow paint was faded. Still, Tommy stared at it like it was a miracle.

“It’s awesome,” he whispered, awestruck.

Tubbo snorted and opened the side door for him. “Wait until you hear it turn on.”

“Does it make a pretty sound?”

“It sounds like death.”

“Oh.”

Tubbo slid in behind the wheel. “Put your seatbelt on,” he instructed, indicating the strap for the demon. “I don’t care if you’re immortal, if an invisible force goes flying through the windshield when I hit the brakes too hard the police are gonna have so many questions for me.” Tommy fumbled with the buckle for a while before managing to click it into place. “Ready?”

“Big T,” he said seriously. “I was born ready for this.”

Chapter Text

Tommy loved every single second of the car ride.

He seemed to enjoy it far more than Tubbo did, which was a little odd. He kept stopping and waiting, something about the lights being red. Tommy suggested that he not let the lights tell him what to do. Tubbo had just groaned in response.

Thankfully, there were less lights to peer pressure him as they neared Pogtopia. The road wound through a forest at a gentle incline, and there weren’t any other cars in sight. That was a little bit of a shame, since Tommy liked watching them drive, but it meant they were getting closer. He could feel the place calling to him, a faint pull in his gut growing stronger as they neared it. As they approached the entrance of Pogtopia, signs that said things like ‘beware’ and ‘caution’ started to show up.

“What are those signs on about?” Tommy asked.

“The ravine’s old as shit, it’s considered dangerous to go into,” Tubbo said. “And, y’know, the fact that everyone seems to think it’s haunted.”

“It is haunted,” Tommy pointed out.

Tubbo pursed his lips. “So it is.”

Tommy felt his heart flutter with excitement as the Intimidation Tower came into view, peeking over the tops of the trees. When Tubbo parked the car, Tommy sprinted straight toward it.

“Hey, wait!”

“Come on!” Tommy called. “Look at it! My finest creation.”

“Your finest creation is a shitty tower?”

“It’s not shitty,” he huffed. “It’s the Intimidation Tower.”

Tubbo ran a hand along one of its stone walls. “Did you make this?”

“Well. No,” Tommy admitted. “I couldn’t go to the Overworld to build it myself, but I did design it.”

“Some designer you are,” Tubbo laughed. “This thing is a gigantic mystery, you know. It’s decently new and no one’s sure where it came from. Who built it?”

“Phil.”

“Who?”

“My dad.” Tommy located his summoning phrase— ego semper in ius was inscribed neatly onto the stone toward the bottom. “Look at this.”

Tubbo peered over his shoulder to see the words. “Oh! That’s what I said to bring you here, isn’t it? I remember when Ranboo first found it, he nearly lost his mind.” He tilted his head to the side. “Why is it here?”

“All of us demons have our summoning phrase somewhere in the Overworld,” Tommy said. “Just one place. Mine is here.”

“Yeah, but why here?”

Tommy bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. “Tubbo, how much do you know about the lore of this place?”

He shrugged. “Not much. Ranboo pitched a couple theories to me, but I don’t remember them super well. He kept going on about demons.” He nodded toward the inscription on the tower. “Figures.”

“I wonder what humans think about this place,” Tommy mused. “I don’t even know the whole story, Wilbur doesn’t talk about the details.”

“Wilbur’s your brother that we’re here to see, right?”

“Right.” Tommy craned his neck, trying to see the top of the tower. “This ravine is where he was when he got banished.”

Tubbo’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. It was really shit for him, I know that much. My family is reclaiming the place by making it ours. All of our summoning phrases are here. That’s why it’s called the Intimidation Tower—it’s supposed to intimidate any other fuckers that come here.” Tommy left the tower’s side and wandered toward the hole in the side of the hill that would lead down to the main ravine. “Even we’re not sure what originally happened to make this place abandoned. Wilbur said he came here on an errand with someone that summoned him and things went downhill. A guy he’d rejected a deal with before showed up and banished him from the Overworld.”

“That’s all you guys know?” Tubbo asked.

Tommy nodded, something akin to grief rising in his throat. “Magic like that leaves a mark on everything involved. The banisher, the banished, the place where it happens… none of it’s the same afterward.” He swallowed thickly. “Wilbur’s still not recovered completely. This whole thing was pretty recent.”

“What was it, like, a hundred years ago?”

“No, only three or four.”

Tubbo made a quiet choking noise of surprise. The two of them stood at the top of the narrow excuse of a staircase down to the ravine itself. Tubbo inhaled shakily.

“Well, I wasn’t fucking scared of this place a minute ago,” he said. “Thanks a lot, Tommy.”

“You’ll be fine,” Tommy assured him. “You’re with me.”

He set off down the spiraling stairs. Tubbo followed close behind him, at one point even grabbing onto his shirt.

“Clingy,” Tommy muttered.

“I’m not clingy, the light on my phone is busted so I can’t fucking see.”

“Oh, shit, humans can’t see in the dark. Uhhhh-” Tommy didn’t really know what to do about that. “Just hold on to me, I guess, there should be some light at the bottom.”

“Great.”

Tommy was only somewhat correct about there being light in the ravine. Lanterns lined the walls and hung from the ceiling, but none of them were lit. He snapped his fingers and rich orange flames burst into existence within them. Tubbo jumped.

“Did you just do that?”

“Yeah.”

“You can light shit on fire with your mind?”

“Big T, I am the literal embodiment of chaos, lighting shit on fire is kind of my specialty.” He tugged Tubbo further into the ravine. “It’s just magic, stop freaking out and let’s go.”

“Where are we going, exactly?”

“To check in with Wilbur.”

“Yeah, I’m not entirely clear on how that’s going to work.”

Tommy came to a halt in the center of the ravine. “You don’t have to be. I’ve got it covered.” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Oi! Ghostbur!”

Tubbo looked at him quizzically. “Who the fuck is-”

“Tommy!” A sweater-wearing specter, a little blurry around the edges, floated over quickly. “It’s so good to see you!”

He didn’t object as Ghostbur wrapped him in a hug. He wasn’t quite Wilbur, not really, but he was awfully close. And as much as Tommy liked hanging around Tubbo, he’d never been away from Wilbur for so long before in all nearly five thousand years of his life. He’d take what brotherly affection he could get at this point.

“That is a ghost,” Tubbo said flatly.

“Well, not really,” Tommy told him. “Tubbo, this is Ghostbur. Ghostbur, this is Tubbo.”

“Hello, Tubbo!” Ghostbur smiled broadly. “It’s so good to see you again!”

Again? Tommy looked at Tubbo for clarification, only to find that he looked equally baffled.

“What d’you mean, again?” he asked sharply.

“Oh!” Ghostbur laughed, and there was an odd edge of nervousness to it. “Silly me, getting my words all mixed up. I meant to say it’s so good to see you, um, just now!”

Tubbo stared at him incredulously. Ghostbur waved at him. Tubbo waved back with significantly less cheerfulness.

It was painful to watch. Tommy cleared his throat.

“He’s not a ghost, technically, but he’s close,” he explained. “When Wilbur got banished, it was… damaging. A little part of him got left behind. So now we have Ghostbur.”

“I live here!” he said brightly.

“So we’re not meeting Wilbur?” Tubbo asked, face screwed up in confusion.

“We are! Sort of! Ghostbur is part of him.” The specter nodded in eager agreement. “They have a connection. Say, Ghostbur, what’s Wilbur doing right now?”

He froze completely, indicating that he was searching their link for an answer. “He’s just doing a little torturing,” he announced after maybe thirty seconds.

“Torturing?” Tubbo repeated.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Tommy said. “You have to be a real fuckin’ wrongun to be personally tortured by a demon. Wilbur’s just got the one bastard that he takes care of personally.”

“Yes, but your brother is torturing someone as we speak. I just-” Tubbo gestured frantically at nothing. “I’m just having a little bit of difficulty excusing that behavior, y’know?”

“Believe me, the guy deserves it.” Tommy crossed his arms. “He’s the one that banished Wilbur.”

Ghostbur mimicked his pose. “And he is very mean.”

“Indeed he is, Ghostbur,” Tommy said soberly. “Could you please tell Wilbur that I’m doing great and Tubbo and I say hello?”

“Sure!” he agreed. “Say hello to Wilbur, Tubbo!”

“Hello,” he greeted flatly.

Ghostbur went very still, undoubtedly waiting for a response. Tubbo raised an eyebrow.

“He looks like he’s buffering.”

“Buffering?”

“Yeah, like-” Tubbo sighed. “Nevermind. You have a weird brother.”

Tommy sniffed in disdain. Only he could call his brothers weird.

“The actual Wilbur’s not like this at all,” he told Tubbo. “Like I said, it was a very small part of him that got left behind.”

“What’s he even doing right now?”

“Waiting.” Ghostbur abruptly came back to reality, standing up straighter. “There we go!”

“Wilbur says hi back!” Ghostbur reported. “He’s very excited that you’re with Tubbo, Tommy, he says he can’t wait to tell Schl- er, the guy he’s torturing-”

“Tell who?”

Tubbo’s oddly serious tone caught Tommy’s attention. The human stood with hands balled into fists as he awaited Ghostbur’s reply. Tommy couldn’t tell if he was angry or terrified, and he had no idea why he would be either.

“Um.” Ghostbur fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeves. “The guy he’s-”

“No, no, you started to say a name,” Tubbo said. “What was it?”

Tommy tilted his head curiously. “Why do you care?”

Tubbo ignored him completely, for some reason. “What was the name, Ghostbur?”

The specter pursed his lips into a thin line. “Schlatt,” he said softly.

Tubbo’s mouth fell open a little bit. Silence pierced the air. Tommy looked back and forth between the two of them, baffled.

“What’s going on?”

Tubbo turned suddenly on his heel. “I’ll be back.”

He marched swiftly down the hall. “Wait!” Tommy exclaimed. “Tubbo-”

“I messed up,” Ghostbur muttered.

“Wh- y- I- how?” Tommy asked. “What the fuck just happened?”

“I knew not to bring him up!” he groaned. “I didn’t mean to say his name!”

“Schlatt’s name?”

“Yeah!” Ghostbur pouted and switched to floating in a seated position. “He’s gonna be mad at me now.”

“Tubbo’s gonna be mad at you?” Tommy clarified.

Ghostbur nodded. “Him, too, probably.”

Tommy didn’t have time to unpack that. “I’m gonna go talk to him. I’ll be right back, okay? Right back.”

“Okay.”

He ran after Tubbo, following the light of the lanterns under the assumption that he wouldn’t go anywhere he couldn’t see. If only Tubbo would let himself be chosen, Tommy would never lose him again. He genuinely liked Tubbo. Forever was a long time, sure, but it was better that he spent it in the Overworld than in hell. Tommy was sure he’d be much happier that way.

Tubbo was huddled in the corner of a ravine, ferociously tapping at his phone screen with his thumb. He held the device up to his ear for half a second only to pull it away with an irritated huff. Tommy got as close as he dared.

“Tubbo?”

“There’s no fucking signal down here, I can’t-” Tubbo let out another noise of frustration. “The call won’t go through.”

“Who are you trying to call?”

“Quackity.”

“Why?”

“I need to know if- if he knew.”

Tommy sat down in front of him. “Knew what?” Tubbo didn’t reply. “Knew what?”

Tubbo drew his knees up to his chest. “You know, I think I agree with you and Ghostbur now. Schlatt deserves it.”

Why was he coming to that conclusion now? “Okay…? What the fuck is going on with you?”

He looked up hesitantly, concern and confusion clouding his eyes. “Tommy, I’m going to tell you something, but you have to promise you’re not going to freak out, okay?”

“Wh-”

“Just do it.”

“Okay,” Tommy said, clueless as to why. “I promise I won’t freak out.”

“Well, um.” Tubbo took a deep breath. “Schlatt is my dad.”

Tommy wasn’t sure that the surge of pure bewilderment that coursed through him could quite be described by the term ‘freak out.’ It seemed too mild.

“Schlatt’s your fucking what.”

Chapter Text

Ranboo woke up to a quiet apartment.

He felt a little bit better, now that he’d gotten some rest, but the feeling didn’t last long. No one else was home—Tubbo had just up and left. Even Tommy didn’t seem to be around, which was more than worrying. Ranboo checked his phone to find he had a message from Tubbo.

tommy and i are going on a quick trip, decided to let you rest. back soon

Ranboo ran a hand down his face in disbelief. Tubbo had taken a demon on a field trip. What if it hadn’t been voluntary? What if Tommy had taken advantage of Ranboo being asleep and dragged Tubbo off to hell or something? Admittedly, as much as Ranboo’s instincts screamed that it was possible, he couldn’t quite imagine Tommy doing it. But that meant that Tubbo had willingly abandoned Ranboo when he was struggling to spend time with the person that had hurt him—and he had trouble imagining that, too.

But Tubbo had to be gone for some reason.

He tried calling, but the phone went straight to voicemail. Ranboo tried not to feel bitter. He really did. But the chances were that Tubbo was off palling around with a demon and Ranboo was still at the apartment. Alone.

He’d really thought he could get along with Tommy for a second there.

“Fine,” Ranboo muttered to himself, pocketing his phone. “Fine, fine, fine.”

He’d go on a little field trip of his own.

It didn’t take long to walk two streets over. The modern house was large and empty, the gate permanently open and the door never locked. It had been abandoned for longer than anyone had ever lived there. People had all sorts of names for it. The Quartz Mansion was among the most popular, but Ranboo preferred to call it the Badlands. After all, the property around it was just as haunted as the house itself.

The front door swung open with a familiar creak. Ranboo had been here plenty of times, and it never failed to send a shiver down his spine. The awful history of the place felt almost tangible. Unlike most haunted places that had their activity concentrated in the basement or some room upstairs, the Badlands threw visitors into the deep end: its tragedy had occurred right in the entryway.

There were still dark stains on the floor that were widely considered to be blood. Legend had it that two friends, beguiled to two different demons, had dwindled in sanity until one had snapped and killed the other. Instantly struck with regret, he’d killed himself immediately. No one really knew exactly what had transpired or how the demons factored in, but the fact remained that the place had extraordinarily bad vibes.

Case in point, the front door slammed shut behind Ranboo.

“Hello?” he called hesitantly. “Is anyone here?”

A faint whispering reached his ears. Even though he was no stranger to the house, it felt different than before. His earlier trips had been with Tubbo—he had no evidence that ghosts or demons were real besides his own belief. Now he knew without a shadow of a doubt that they were, and that changed things. Those whispers weren’t the wind or just his own mind—they were something else. Someone else.

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

Ranboo turned around on a dime, heart beating wildly, to find himself face to face with a partial apparition of a man. His arms and legs faded into nothing, but his head and shoulders were clear as day. He had glasses and dressed casually, wearing a hoodie with a pair of headphones around his neck. They served to frame the wide red slit across his throat. Ranboo made an effort not to gag.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” the ghost repeated. “He’s still here.”

“Who?” Ranboo asked, his voice coming out with an embarrassing squeak. “Is it- are you talking about your friend?”

The man reached up with misty fingers, running them delicately along the wound in his neck. “I wish I were. He moved on.” He smiled sadly. “I didn’t.”

The ghost was starting to fade. Ranboo needed an answer, and fast.

“Why?”

“Because he’s still here.”

“Who?” Ranboo asked again.

The man disappeared before he could reply.

Ranboo scrambled to pull his spirit box out of his backpack. As soon as he hit the on button, a burst of static that sounded almost like a scream nearly made him drop it. He fiddled with it until the buzzing stabilized.

“Hello?” he called. “Ghost? Are you still here?” No response. “Is anyone here with me right now?”

You came back.

That was… interesting. And definitely not the same ghost Ranboo had just been talking to. This one was deeper, less nasally, and far more sinister. A cowardly part of Ranboo’s mind hoped he was just imagining the voice.

“Could you say that again?” All that came out of the speaker was a series of garbled sounds that could’ve been anything. “Sorry?”

The noise only rose in volume, crescendoing to the point that Ranboo wanted to put his hands over his ears. It sounded like a million people screaming to talk over each other. It only got louder, and louder, and louder-

It abruptly cut out, replaced by soft static and a single voice.

Hello again.

“Um. Hello,” Ranboo forced himself to say. “Have we… have we met before?”

Several unintelligible bursts of sound came out of the spirit box. They might have been words, but Ranboo couldn’t understand them. Half of him wanted to ask for clarification. The rest of him wanted to run, because this was real, but he found himself frozen in place.

“Okay,” he said, trying to corner his resolve. “My name is Ranboo. Can you say that back to me?”

Instantly, a voice crackled through the air, rough around the edges like it had to crawl through four different dimensions to reach his ears. An icy shiver shot down Ranboo’s spine and the hair on the back of his neck stood straight up. The voice, although it only spoke a single word, was more terrifying than anything else he’d ever experienced for one simple reason… it didn’t come from the spirit box.

It came from behind him.

“Ranboo.”

The energy in the air changed. There was someone present just behind him, and the creeping feeling of fear in his chest told him it was someone less friendly than Tommy. Ranboo turned around slowly, dread mounting as he did so.

The entity was definitely a demon. He wore copious amounts of green, his clothes far less casual than Tommy’s and fit for royalty. Wickedly sharp black horns jutted out of the hood that was pulled up over his head and his face was obscured by a white mask with a simple, horrifying smiley face.

“Aww.” He tilted his head to the side. “Did I scare you?”

Ranboo swallowed anxiously. “Who are you?”

“Someone you decided you’d rather forget, apparently,” the demon huffed. “That was very rude of you. I promised you everything, and you just threw it away.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

He took a step closer, and Ranboo scuttled backward. The demon eyed the spirit box distastefully and crushed it under his boot like it was nothing.

“You and I are friends, Ranboo. Or, we were. Until you betrayed me.” Ranboo shook his head frantically. “Oh, I know, you forgot. Don’t worry. I can remind you.” He crouched down, bringing his masked face uncomfortably close to Ranboo’s. “You’re mine.”

“No.” This couldn’t be real. “No!”

“You were a kid on the street, abandoned by the world. You were dumb enough to seek shelter here, but I forgave you.”

“I don’t know you!”

The demon ignored him. “I treated you well. I offered you every protection you could have wanted. All I asked in return was your loyalty, and you abandoned me. You chose to forget me.”

Ranboo didn’t understand all the implications of that. He hadn’t chosen to forget his entire life, but then again… he didn’t remember it. The demon’s words were plausible, and that was the most terrifying part. Ranboo didn’t know what else to do except beg for mercy.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Oh, but you did. I don’t think you even remember my name.” Ranboo began to tremble—was this demon going to kill him for not knowing his name? “That’s what I thought. It’s okay, though. I’ll tell you it again. My name is Dream.”

“You’re a demon.” The words were out of Ranboo’s mouth before he could help it.

“I am. That didn’t used to scare you. Well, I suppose it did at the end, but when we first met… you were too desperate to care.” Dream reached out and ran fingers with too-sharp nails through his hair, his other hand holding Ranboo’s arm when he flinched backward. “You were practically calling to me, you know. I can smell the jealousy wafting off of you. Let me help.”

Ranboo tried to squirm free of Dream’s grip, but he held fast. “I don’t need your help.”

He snorted, unimpressed. “When did you get an attitude? Of course you need my help. Tell me what the problem is and I’ll eliminate it. Simple as that.”

“I didn’t summon you. You don’t owe me a favor,” Ranboo asserted, doing his absolute best to keep his head on his shoulders. “Why would you help me?”

“I treat what’s mine kindly.”

“I’m not yours.”

“Ranboo.” There was an edge to Dream’s voice that managed to make his heart beat even faster. “I’m not going to let you run away again.”

“Please-”

“You’re not leaving here until I’ve claimed you. I made that mistake before.” The smile scratched onto his mask seemed to grow wider. “This will all go a lot more smoothly if you agree to be chosen.”

“Chosen?”

“You really have forgotten a lot, haven’t you?” Dream sighed. “Sometimes, when a demon cares about a human very much, they can use their magic to choose them. That way the human can live forever and the demon can take care of anything they need. Wouldn’t you want that?”

Live forever? But what about Tubbo?

“No,” Ranboo said as firmly as he could. “I don’t want that. And- and you don’t care about me.”

“You just don’t remember how much I care.” Dream’s voice was sickly sweet. “If you don’t agree to it, things won’t end well for you. It’s much safer if you agree.”

Ranboo raised his chin defiantly. “Well, I don’t agree.”

Dream hummed disappointedly. “I suppose I’ll forgive you for that, too. You’ll come to your senses in time. When you accept the bond and let me in, things will stop hurting.”

“Wha- hurting?”

Dream placed a hand on his cheek. Ranboo tried desperately to escape, but the demon held him to the spot with what seemed to be minimal effort.

“You can make it stop hurting whenever you’d like.”

“Please-” Ranboo couldn’t get his arm free. “Please-”

“Hold still.”

Dream’s hand grew warm against his face and the room was practically crackling with energy. Ranboo was crying now. He didn’t know what was going on, but there was a demon in front of him and some new sensation was ripping through his veins like fire. Ranboo had been afraid before. He’d been startled by bugs flying at his face and jumped at sudden noises and had panic attacks over water on his skin. But none of that seemed like fear anymore. Those feelings were child’s play compared to the raw terror that coursed through him now.

He missed Tubbo. He hoped he was okay.

“Ranboo,” Dream said. “I name you as my chosen.”

The eyes of the demon’s mask started to glow a bright green. Ranboo couldn’t stop himself from screaming, fighting with new desperation to run.

“Accept it or reject it.” The words echoed through Ranboo’s very soul. “The choice is yours.”

He shook his head, crying pathetically. “Stop it, stop it, please just stop it!”

Dream just sighed. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

It was like a vice clamped down inside Ranboo’s head. Pain shot through his skull, and the world went black.

Chapter Text

Quackity met his first demon by accident.

There was something distinctly non-human about him from the start. Not in a bad way—more in an ethereal, enchanting sort of way. He was sitting in a gazebo, absently fiddling with a white rose as he looked out over the pond. If Quackity hadn’t already believed in the supernatural, this guy’s aura alone would’ve been enough evidence to convince him of it. He was undeniably handsome, but Quackity couldn’t really put his finger on why, because every time he glanced away he immediately seemed to forget what his face looked like. All he knew was that he was smitten.

It wasn’t like Quackity meant to stare, but… maybe he stared a little.

The person—if he was a person at all—blushed, then actually got up and moved to sit next to him on the bench. Quackity didn’t take his eyes off of him. He couldn’t bring himself to.

“It’s a nice night,” he said, trying to sound casual.

“So it is.” He flashed Quackity a dazzling smile that he did his best to burn into his brain. “I’m Karl, by the way.”

“Quackity.”

“Charmed.”

He laughed nervously. “Me, too.”

“Well, what brings you to the gardens at this hour, Quackity?”

“I just needed to get out of the house. Y’know, get some fresh air.” Karl nodded slowly. “What about you?”

“I like the sound of the crickets.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Karl fiddled with his sleeves for a moment. “You were staring at me.”

It was Quackity’s turn to blush. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s just… people don’t usually notice me.” He tilted his head to the side. “You did.”

“Was I, uh…” Karl was definitely not human, and Quackity wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that. “Was I not supposed to notice you?”

He shrugged. “I don’t mind. It’s just interesting that you did.” Karl narrowed his eyes at him (they were brilliantly blue with flecks of green that Quackity never wanted to forget) and smiled softly. “You know I’m not human.”

“Yup,” Quackity said breathlessly. “Yup, I clued in on that.”

“Does that scare you?”

“Um. Kind of,” he admitted.

“Do you know what I am?” Quackity shook his head. “Do you want to know?”

“I think so.”

“I’m a demon.”

Quackity stared at him. At first, it didn’t make sense—he might’ve even guessed angel initially. But the closer Quackity looked, the more it seemed to fall into place. His eyes glittered with something almost devious, and he had a smile that Quackity would probably follow straight into hell.

“You’re not gonna kill me, right?” he asked on impulse.

Karl laughed. “No. Are you gonna run away?”

“I-I don’t think so?”

“Hmm,” Karl mused. “It’s nice to be seen for a little bit.”

“What do you mean?” Quackity asked.

“I’m not from here,” Karl said. “I’ll go home, and you’ll forget me.”

“I won’t.”

“That’s just how it works, Quackity. I’m hard to remember.” He shrugged. “This has happened before, you know. Someone sees me, and we talk, and they forget I ever existed. What makes you different from all of them?”

Quackity wasn’t sure, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

“I want to remember you,” he decided. “So I will.”

Karl stared at him for a moment. “Huh.” He waved his hand, and suddenly a swirling purpled portal appeared in front of him. “Interesting. We’ll see how that turns out.” He stood up and waved his fingers in a gentle goodbye. “Have a good life, Quackity.”

With that, he stepped through the portal. It disappeared behind him, leaving the night dark once again.

Quackity already couldn’t remember what color Karl’s eyes had been.

---

Quackity hadn’t expected it to be so hard to remember Karl. He knew he was a demon named Karl, he was nice, and Quackity had sworn to remember him. He didn’t know anything besides that.

Why he’d promised to remember a demon was beyond him, but it was proving remarkably hard to do, so there must have been some reason. Quackity wrote it down: remember Karl the nice demon.

He found the note one morning and it took him a solid two minutes to remember what the hell it was talking about.

It felt oddly like a betrayal. He had an easy job—remember Karl existed—and he was failing miserably at it. Later that same day, as he reread the note, he had the odd impulse to just let himself forget. It would be easier that way, and a lot less stressful. If he got rid of the note and let himself forget Karl, then…

No.

He wasn’t going to give in. He’d made this demon a promise, for whatever reason, and he was going to fucking keep it. What if Karl had told him something important, and Quackity had gotten mixed up about what exactly it was he was supposed to remember? The demon himself could probably help. Right?

The village’s resident occultist lived down the road. Most people avoided him like the plague, accusing him of strange rituals and conversing with demons. Quackity believed every word of it, but no harm had ever seemed to come from their practices, so he didn’t mind living nearby. And now that he actually wanted to converse with a demon… he couldn’t think of a better place to go.

Quackity knocked on the door once before it opened. The occultist stared at him with empty white eyes—no one was entirely sure whether or not they were blind. Quackity swallowed nervously.

“I’m, uh. I’m Quackity.”

“I know.”

“Oh! Okay.” Not creepy at all. “And you are…?”

“Eret.”

“Eret,” Quackity repeated. “Um. Can I come in?”

He moved to the side, and Quackity took that as a yes.

The inside of the house was surprisingly warm—wood burned in the fireplace and plants hung from every available shelf. Sunlight streamed through the many windows. Eret gestured toward a plush armchair, and Quackity sat. He sank into the chair easily.

“What brings you to my home, Quackity?”

“A demon.”

Eret raised an eyebrow. “One you summoned?”

“No, uh, one that I’d like to summon.”

“That’s dangerous business.”

“I know,” Quackity sighed. “I met him earlier, and I swore I would do something for him, and now… it’s complicated.”

“It’s not wise to promise things you can’t do to demons.”

“I know!” Quackity said again, feeling stupider by the second under Eret’s (blind?) gaze. “I thought I could do it. It seemed easy.”

“Well,” they muttered thoughtfully. “They haven’t found you yet, which is a good sign that they’re not too mad. If you think that summoning this demon would help, then I can teach you how to do it, but you have to understand that magic like that has consequences.”

“What kind of consequences?”

“You have to learn that for yourself.” He tilted his head curiously. “Are you sure you want to go through with this? I won’t ask again.”

Even though that sent a shiver down Quackity’s spine, he nodded. “I’m sure.”

Eret clapped their hands together and stood up. “Right, then. Let’s get started.”

“Wh- are we doing this right now?” Quackity asked.

“You’re doing it,” Eret said. “I’m just telling you how. Now grab the ninth book from the left on the third shelf from the bookcase by the door and meet me outside.”

“Ninth book from the- wait!” But Eret had already left. “Great. Fucking fantastic.” He hurried over to the bookcase and brushed his fingers over the spines of the dusty old tomes on the third shelf, repeating Eret’s instructions (or what he was pretty sure they’d said) under his breath until he landed on the right one. “Gotcha.”

He followed Eret outside, where they were throwing logs into a small pile. Quackity waved the book in the air.

“Is this the right one?”

Eret didn’t even look at it. “Open it to page seventy-one.”

Quackity turned directly to it on his first try. “There are only three words on this page.”

“Yes, there are, don’t read them.” Eret wiped his hands together, apparently satisfied with his log pile. “You need an offering.”

“I don’t have an offering.” Eret swiped the hat off his head and tossed it onto the wood. “Hey!”

“Now you do.” They pointed back toward the house. “There was a candle on the table next to the chair you sat in. Light it and bring it out here.”

“But-”

“Go get the candle.”

“I-”

“Candle.”

“Fine,” Quackity huffed. “Weirdo,” he added softly as he stepped through the door.

The candle was exactly where Eret had said it would be. Quackity lit it and brought it back outside with him.

“Good,” Eret said. “I’ll leave you to perform the ritual itself. Throw the candle onto the pyre, it should catch easily. Once the hat is burned-”

“I have to burn my hat?”

“Yes. Once it’s burned, recite the words on page seventy-one. The demon you’re looking for will appear. Got it?”

“Okay, got it, but why are you leaving?”

“It would be rude of me to stay.”

Eret went into the house without any elaboration and drew the curtains shut. Slowly, Quackity turned his attention to the pyre. He really liked that hat. He took the note he’d written for himself out of his breast pocket. Remember Karl the nice demon. It felt like he was going crazy over that one little sentence, that one little stupid instruction that he couldn’t do. Quackity took a deep breath and tossed the candle onto the logs.

Eret wasn’t kidding about it catching quickly. The dry wood lit up, flames licking at the hat sat atop the pile. Quackity was still a little bitter about that, but he supposed that it was called an offering for a reason. As it began to turn to ash, he held up the book in his hands. The words weren’t quite English—Latin, maybe? Quackity recited the words.

“Percute subscribe puga.”

For half a second, it was like the flames froze. Then they vanished with a loud pop, and suddenly there was someone standing in front of the pyre. Wavy brown hair, sparkling eyes, a subtle smile… Karl.

“Um,” Quackity croaked. “Hi.”

The demon’s smile grew slightly. “Hi.”

“I, uh-” Quackity fiddled with the paper in his hands. “I kept trying to remember you. It didn’t work very well. Sorry.”

“Wait, do you know me?”

This was the demon he was looking for, wasn’t it. “You’re- you’re Karl, right?”

“No way,” he said softly. “You actually tried.”

“It didn’t work.”

Karl waved his hands. “No, you don’t understand. The fact that you even know my name is incredible. You blocked the effects of my magic through sheer willpower.”

“What?”

“Quackity, I’m the Demon of Forgetfulness.” He seemed almost giddy. “No mortal I meet can ever remember me. But somehow, you did.”

Quackity’s mouth felt dry. “I-I wrote it down,” he stammered. “That helped.”

Karl laughed. “Of course. Can I see it?” He held his hand out, and Quackity gave him the paper. “Aw, you think I’m nice?”

“I don’t really remember thinking that, but yeah. Apparently.”

“Why did you call me here?”

Quackity shrugged. “I couldn’t remember you. I thought you could help.”

Karl’s face turned a rosy pink as he blushed. “Do you know what usually happens when a mortal summons a demon?”

“... No.”

“Well, typically the mortal offers something in exchange for a favor from the demon.” Karl held up Quackity’s note. “I’ll do you a favor if you let me keep this.”

“Deal.”

He tucked the paper into his pocket. “Excellent. Now, ask anything you’d like, and I’ll do it for you.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

Quackity swallowed nervously. He could hardly think while he looked into Karl’s eyes. Something told him he was being a total dumbass—there was probably some rule about having crushes on demons—but Quackity would give a lot more than his hat and a note to never forget those eyes again.

“I want to remember you,” Quackity told him. “Really remember you.”

Karl smiled and placed a hand on his cheek. To Quackity’s embarrassment, he leaned into the touch.

“Quackity,” Karl said. “I’d like to choose you.”

---

Quackity spent the first while after summoning Karl living with Eret, who was apparently chosen as well. It was… interesting, to say the least. Eret had a lot to teach him, even if he didn’t always feel like learning. They weren’t overly fond of Quackity, and a lot of the time he got the impression that they didn’t think he deserved to be chosen, but by some miracle he hadn’t been kicked out yet.

“So,” Quackity asked at the breakfast table one morning. “When am I gonna meet all the other people like us?”

Eret, as usual, didn’t look at him when she replied, which was frustrating since Quackity was pretty sure she wasn’t completely blind. “You mean the other chosen mortals?”

“Yeah! Surely they’ve got insights about this, too, right?”

“Quackity, there’s only one other besides us.”

He choked on his coffee. “One?”

“Mm-hmm,” Eret hummed, sitting down across from him with a cup of tea. “Her name is Niki, and you probably will meet her one day. Like I said, though, we’re rare.”

“I didn’t know you meant that rare!” Quackity ran a hand down his face. “Shit. I don’t feel qualified for this.”

“You’re not,” Eret agreed. “But that’s why you’re here. When I was first chosen, I lived with Niki for months. She taught me everything I know. Now that you’ve been chosen, it’s my responsibility to teach you. And someday, when another one of us comes along, they’ll be your responsibility.”

“I’m not responsible enough for responsibilities,” Quackity muttered.

“Well, you have a few hundred years to fix that.” Eret grinned. “I’m sure you’ll be able to manage.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

Quackity went to flip him off, but the ring on his hand grew warm and he paused. Eret tilted their head to the side.

“Your demon’s calling you,” they observed, making a shooing motion. “Go talk to him.”

Quackity got up and hurried down the hall to the room he was staying in. He took the ring in his hand—it was silver with a colorful swirl, and easily the nicest thing he’d ever owned—and focused. Just concentrate and pull, Eret had said. The energy is already there, you just have to feel it.

There was a flash, and Karl stood in the room. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

Karl smiled. “There’s a visitor coming your way. Be ready, but tell Eret not to worry about tea. He doesn’t like it much.”

“Who’s coming?”

“A… friend of mine,” Karl said delicately. “And a soon-to-be friend of yours. The Demon of Destruction.”

“Sounds very friendly,” Quackity muttered.

“Don’t worry. He’s been very interested in meeting you,” he laughed. “I’m going to go now, but I’ll talk to you soon. Remember, you can call me anytime you’d like.”

“I know.”

The purple portal appeared behind him, and Karl waved. “See you.”

He disappeared with a soft vwoop. Quackity put the ring back on his finger.

“Eret!” he yelled, heading back toward the kitchen. “We’re gonna have company!”

“What kind of company?”

“The good kind!” He paused. “Allegedly!”

Quackity skidded into the kitchen, nearly slamming into the table. Eret raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on it.

“Do you know who’s coming?”

“A friend of Karl’s.”

“Oh.”

“He said he was the Demon of Destruction.”

“Oh.” Eret stood up with a swish of his skirt, laughing. “You have fun with that.”

“What- aren’t you going to-?”

Eret shook her head. “I’m not getting in the way of that meeting.”

“You’re kinda scaring me.”

Eret just waved as he left. “Have fun!”

The door to his bedroom shut loudly. Quackity stood frozen, mind racing. He wasn’t qualified to talk to a fucking demon on his own. Eret had expressed repeatedly that he was very lucky it was Karl he had met in the first place. Even if this demon was, apparently, his friend, he was still-

Someone knocked on the door.

Shit.

Quackity opened it to find a demon smiling at him. He was dressed fashionably. More than fashionably—he practically looked like royalty, with his clean pants and bright red vest over a pressed white shirt. He certainly wore the white bandana around his head like it was a crown. It was… intimidating, honestly. But this was Karl’s friend, and Eret had made him feel like he needed to make a good, confident impression. Quackity opted to fake it ‘til he made it.

“The castle is at least a day’s wagon ride from here,” he said.

The demon laughed. “Good thing I’m not looking for the castle.” He stuck his hand out for Quackity to shake, and he noted a ring similar to his own on his finger. “I’m Sapnap.”

“Quackity.”

“So I’ve heard.”

He gestured inside. “You gonna come in or what?”

“You never invited me.”

“You’re a demon, not a fucking vampire, just get in. I already knew you were coming.”

Sapnap stepped through the doorway, making a show of putting his hands in the air. “I was trying to be polite. Guess I won’t try again.”

“Fine by me,” Quackity huffed, sitting down.

Sapnap grinned and sat down in front of him, perching his chin on his hand. “Karl was right. You are cute.”

Quackity choked on his own spit. “Sorry?”

He shrugged like he hadn’t said anything that was a big deal. “You’re cute.”

“And- and Karl said I was cute?”

Sapnap wiggled his eyebrows. “And you want to know that because…”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“You’re weird, you know that, right?” Sapnap asked.

“Thanks,” Quackity muttered.

“No, seriously. There have been so many mortals. And there are gonna be a lot more. But all of the sudden you show up and manage to accidentally wrap a demon around your finger.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Do you know how many people would kill to do that?”

“Okay, Karl said you were gonna be my friend, but so far-”

“Friend?” Sapnap chuckled. “Aww. Karl’s just shy.”

Quackity could feel himself go red. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means,” the demon sighed, “that Karl liked you enough to choose you. Which means that I ought to get to know you. And maybe I’ll like you enough to choose you, too.”

“Is that… possible?”

“Each demon only gets to choose one mortal,” Sapnap said. “That’s just how our magic works. But… there’s nothing keeping two demons from choosing the same one.” He suddenly stood up and winked at him. “I’ll be seeing you again, Quackity. Soon.”

“You’re leaving?” Quackity asked. “Already?”

“Do you want me to stay longer?”

“Uhh-”

“You don’t have to answer that. But, if you did, hypothetically, want to see me sometime, Eret knows how to summon me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good.” The portal to hell appeared behind him, and Sapnap walked backward into it. “Bye for now, Quackity.”

Chapter Text

MANY, MANY YEARS LATER

It was a very strange experience to attend Schlatt’s funeral.

Hardly anyone went. Hell, Quackity only went for appearances and Tubbo. Even the weather didn’t mourn Schlatt’s death—the sun was shining brightly overhead in a cloudless blue sky. Tubbo stayed after everyone else left, and that meant Quackity did, too. The teenager stared dully at the headstone of his father. Something in Quackity was enraged that Schlatt got to bear that title at all—he’d never earned it.

“His body’s not really in there, is it?” Tubbo asked softly.

“No.”

“They never found it.”

“Yeah.”

Tubbo pursed his lips. “Kind of odd to have a funeral for someone that might not even be dead.”

Oh, Schlatt was definitely dead. Quackity could remember how heavy the gun had felt in his hands, how loud the bullet had been when it fired. Schlatt was very, very dead, but he couldn’t exactly tell anyone how he knew that.

“He’s dead. Trust me.”

Tubbo looked at his feet. “Yeah, um. I heard the gunshot.”

“What?”

“I-I didn’t realize that was what it was. But I heard it, and I never saw him after that.”

Quackity was at a loss for words. What could he say? You were asleep, I took him outside, you weren’t supposed to hear that. He couldn’t admit what he’d done to anyone, not even to Tubbo.

“You didn’t tell the police that,” he said lamely.

“No.” Tubbo leaned against him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“You know what.”

Quackity got teary-eyed for the tenth time that week. The idea that a kid would thank their parent’s murderer… it was fucked up. Tubbo deserved so much better.

“I’m sorry,” Quackity told him hoarsely. “I-I should’ve noticed sooner, he was my friend, I didn’t think he would-”

“It’s fine,” Tubbo said. “He’s gone now.”

“Yeah. Yeah, he’s gone now.” Quackity put an arm around his shoulders. “We should go home.”

“I don’t know where that is.”

“You can stay with me for as long as you want.”

“No, I can’t,” Tubbo insisted. “You have shit to do, and I’m independent now that I’m emancipated. Besides, I’m almost an adult.”

“Tubbo, you’re barely fifteen.”

“Been taking care of myself for a while, anyway.” Quackity’s heart broke a little at that, and it must’ve shown, because Tubbo spoke again quickly. “You helped. You helped a lot. You’ve done so much for me, and now… I guess I should return the favor, or some shit.”

“Tubbo, you don’t have to return anything. Okay? Anything.”

“But-”

“No buts.”

Tubbo gestured to the headstone. “Quackity, I could very well owe you my life for this.”

The thought of that made him want to throw up. “You don’t owe me a single goddamn thing. You’re fifteen. If- if you don’t want to stay with me, I can help you figure something out.” Quackity wanted him to stay, he really did, but he wouldn’t force anything on him. He couldn’t. “But I’m not going to let you just wander off on your own. Deal?”

Tubbo hesitated before he nodded, tears pooling in his eyes. “Yeah.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Quackity wiped away the tears as they fell. “You’ll be okay.”

Without any warning, Tubbo fell forward into his chest. Quackity pulled him into a hug, wrapping protective arms tightly around him.

“Thank you,” he cried. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Quackity ran a comforting hand through his hair, uncertain what to say. It was nothing. I’ll always protect you. I’d do anything for you.

“You’re okay,” he whispered gently. “You’re okay, Tubbo.”

You’re safe now.

---

Tubbo fell asleep in the car on the way back to the house. Quackity tucked him into the bed in the “green guest room.” Tubbo called it that, but it was really his room. It was the room he always slept in (which meant that it was the nicest one by far) and no one else, not even the Queen of Hell herself, got to stay in it.

If things were different, if they were better, Quackity would’ve taken him home and told him it was his forever. He would’ve been able to call it his kid’s room out loud instead of just in his head.

Tubbo didn’t need a dad, though, not after what Schlatt had done to him. He needed a fucking break.

The rings on his hand grew warm. Quackity flicked his hand with a sigh, summoning Sapnap and Karl with practiced ease.

“You’re upset,” Karl observed, sitting down next to him. “We just wanted to check in.”

“I’m worried about Tubbo.”

“He’ll be fine,” Sapnap assured him. “He sounds like a smart kid.”

“Are you sure we can’t meet him?” Karl asked with a pout.

Quackity shook his head. “Not anytime soon. Schlatt didn’t want him to know anything about the supernatural. He doesn’t think ghosts are real, I can’t just go introducing him to demons immediately after a traumatic event.”

Sapnap crossed his arms, a couple sparks flying off the tips of his ears in irritation. “Wilbur got to-”

“That was an exception,” Quackity interrupted. “Besides, Wilbur can keep his magic a little more subtle than you two can.”

“You will tell him eventually, though,” Sapnap said as if it were a fact.

“Yeah, eventually.”

“Wouldn’t want him to miss the wedding,” Karl added with a grin.

Quackity snorted a half-hearted laugh. “I love you guys, but I am not asking Kristin for your hands in marriage. I don’t feel like that would end particularly well.”

“I swear she’d say yes,” Sapnap told him. “She’d probably think you were funny.”

Quackity shook his head. “I’m not doing it.”

Karl sighed dramatically. “And so we remain fiancés for another century.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, Q. We get it.” Sapnap kissed him on the forehead. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will.”

Sapnap vanished in a flash of purple. Karl didn’t follow him. Quackity raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

“I might have a little bit of a favor to ask you,” Karl muttered. “I know it’s not a good time, but… you’re the only human I trust to help.”

“What’s up?”

“There’s this kid,” Karl said, getting Quackity’s attention immediately. “He’s around Tubbo’s age, lives on the street. He was a real mess when he summoned me, and he- he asked me to make him forget everything. He wanted a clean slate.” Karl ran a hand down his face. “You know how much I hate doing that to people. Now he’s out there, sleeping on the ground without a clue who he really is or where he came from, and I just… could you help him?”

How could Quackity say no to that?

“Of course I can.” He grinned. “Besides, I think Tubbo could use a friend right now.”

---

Quackity fell asleep on the couch that night. He woke up to someone banging on his front door at approximately six the next morning. Grumbling sleepily, he rolled off the couch and made his way to the door, pulling it open mid-yawn.

“Go bother Slime, I’m taking the day off-” he stopped, staring at the pink-haired person standing on his doorstep. “Niki. Finally want to join the Las Nevadas crew?”

“No,” she said coolly.

“Then to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You’re looking for a homeless teen. Ranboo Beloved.”

Quackity furrowed his eyebrows curiously. “Wh- yeah, I was gonna go find him today, but I didn’t even know his last name, how did you…?”

“Jack told me.”

“‘Course he did,” Quackity sighed.

“Word gets around in hell when Karl blank slates someone. Jack came to me as soon as he figured out who the kid was.”

“Just hit me with the punchline,” Quackity requested. “You’re about to complicate this entire situation, I can feel it, so just get on with it.”

“Actually, I think I’ll be making things easier for you.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

Niki crossed her arms. “I still had a family when I was chosen. I’ve tried to keep track of them as best as I can.” She took a deep breath. “Ranboo is the last direct descendant of my brother. He disappeared years ago, and this is the first I’ve heard of him since.”

Quackity blinked a couple times. “That’s a development.”

“I want to help you find him.”

“How are you gonna help with that?” Quackity asked. “Wanna say ‘hey, kid, I’m your great great great great great great-’”

“Quackity-”

“-great great great aunt and I’m here to yank you off the street!’”

“What was your plan? What were you going to say?”

“Well-”

“We can say I’m his cousin,” Niki suggested. “But I am helping you find him. And when we do, I don’t want him working for you.”

“Aw, c’mon, Niki-”

“No,” she said firmly. “He’s a child, he’s not going to be working at your casino.”

“What if he didn’t work at the casino, exactly?”

“No.”

“Karl asked me to take care of him.”

“And you can.” Niki smiled. “You’re pretty rich from all the business you get, right? Rich enough to give him a place to stay, some groceries-”

“Oh, I’ll give him plenty,” Quackity assured her.

“Good. But I’ll take care of giving him a job.”

“Fine.”

---

Ranboo wasn’t hard to find. He was exactly where Karl had said he’d be and he stood out, a mask covering the lower half of his face and obviously being extremely tall even though he was sitting on a bench. Quackity approached slowly with a soft smile, Niki by his side.

“Hey. Mind if we sit?”

Ranboo looked up like a startled squirrel. “Oh. Uh. No?” He fidgeted with his hands. “I don’t… know either of you, right?”

“You met me once when you were very little,” Niki said gently, sitting down next to him. “I’m your cousin, Niki.”

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t remember that.”

“That’s okay.”

Ranboo took a shaky breath. “I don’t- I don’t remember anything, really. I don’t know where I am, or how I got here, or who I am, or-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, kid,” Quackity soothed. “You’re Ranboo Beloved. You’re in L’Manberg. You went missing a while ago, but Niki and I found you.”

“I went missing?”

Niki nodded somberly. “A few years ago. I’ve been trying to find you ever since. Quackity here can get you a place to live, and I can give you a job. We can help.”

Ranboo glanced between the two of them nervously. “What’s the catch?”

“There is no catch,” Quackity told him.

“I-I don’t know anything!” Ranboo stammered. “Why would you want to help me?”

“You’re my family,” Niki said.

Quackity shrugged. “You need help.”

“You don’t have to trust us right away,” Niki added. “You don’t even have to come with us. But I promise that there is no catch.”

Ranboo looked conflicted. “I want to trust you.”

Quackity stood up and extended his hand. “Please do.”

Ranboo glanced at Niki, who nodded encouragingly. He took Quackity’s hand.

---

Tubbo was absolutely thrilled to meet Ranboo. It was sweet. As far as he knew, Ranboo was some kid off the street that a friend had asked Quackity to take pity on… which wasn’t entirely wrong, but it left out a few key details. Quackity swore he’d explain everything to him someday.

“So. Your name is Ranboo?” Tubbo asked.

“That’s what they tell me.”

“Wow, you really don’t remember anything, huh?”

“Tubbo!” Quackity scolded quietly.

Ranboo turned red, the blush just peeking above the mask he wore. “Um, yeah. I’ve got, like basic knowledge, but there are just no memories in this brain.”

“That’s okay,” Tubbo said brightly. “I’ll help you make some new ones.”

Quackity’s heart warmed. He knew introducing the two of them had been a good idea.

“How would you two feel about being roommates?” he asked. “I could get you two a place together.”

Tubbo’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“If you’re both okay with it, of course,” Quackity said.

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Ranboo rubbed the back of his neck. “It might be nice to have, uh, y’know. Someone else.”

Quackity had expected their bond to take a little while to develop.

When he found both of them asleep on the couch under the same blanket, Megamind still playing on the TV, he decided he had underestimated how much they needed each other.

He carried Tubbo up to his room first. When he came back downstairs for Ranboo, the kid was awake.

“Where’s Tubbo?”

“I just took him up to his room,” Quackity explained. “I have a bed ready for you, too, if you want it.”

“Oh. Um. That would be nice.”

Ranboo kept a healthy distance between the two of them as he led him down the hall. Quackity didn’t say anything about it—Ranboo didn’t have to be comfortable with him yet.

“This is your room,” he announced, opening the door to a modest guest room. “You can stay here for as long as you’d like. Of course, if you’d rather stay with Niki, I can call her-”

“No, no, this is- this is great.” Ranboo looked at the room like it was made out of gold. “I get to sleep here?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He walked in and sat down on the bed, running his hand over the covers. “Quackity?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you really not know me before I forgot everything?”

Quackity shook his head. “I really didn’t.”

“Then why are you so nice to me?”

He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to smile or cry more. “You’re a a kid, Ranboo. And a good one at that. I’m just finally giving you what you deserve.”

Ranboo laid down. “I didn’t know I deserved this much.”

“You do.” Quackity stepped out of the doorway. “Goodnight, Ranboo.”

“Goodnight.”

He shut the door quietly. Across the hall, he could hear Tubbo snoring softly, safe from the nightmare that had been his father.

At that exact moment, Quackity decided he was going to do his goddamn best to spoil the shit out of both of his new kids.

Chapter Text

To his credit, Tommy didn’t freak out when Tubbo told him Schlatt was his dad. Instead, he just sort of… shut down.

“Schlatt’s your fucking what.”

“My dad,” Tubbo said. “Unfortunately.” The demon just stared at him. “Um. Tommy?” Tubbo snapped his fingers in front of his face. “You good there?”

“But- Schlatt banished Wilbur.”

“Yeah.”

Tommy crossed his arms. “This is unacceptable.”

Tubbo swallowed nervously. He didn’t mean that Tubbo was unacceptable, right? Tommy was a demon, and full-grown or not, he could fuck him up if he decided not to like him anymore. He could light things on fire with his mind. Tubbo wasn’t anything more than some tinder he’d had mercy on.

“What’s unacceptable, exactly?”

“Your dad!” Tommy exclaimed. “The bag of shit that banished my brother is your dad!”

Shit shit shit shit shit- “I didn’t choose him, though, I-I hate him, he was awful-”

“I know, I know!” Tommy huffed. “But you’re so cool!”

Tubbo froze. “What?”

“You’re so cool!” he repeated. “How are you his family?”

“I wish I wasn’t,” Tubbo said softly.

Tommy wrapped him in a hug. “I’m glad you’re not like him.”

“Thanks,” he choked out. “Tommy, I-I need to get out of here. I need to call Quackity.”

“Okay. Let me just go say goodbye to Ghostbur. You go back up to get a- a signal, or whatever. I’ll meet you up on the surface.”

Tubbo nodded. “Sounds good.”

Tommy patted him on the head. “Don’t leave without me, yeah?”

“‘Course not.”

It was a little difficult to make it up the stairs with only the dim light of his phone screen, but Tubbo managed it. Although he hadn’t felt claustrophobic while underground, the moment he stepped into the sunlight, it felt as though a weight was taken off of his shoulders. He opened his phone and watched impatiently as it slowly searched for and eventually found a signal.

He jumped as a slew of messages popped up on his screen.

2 missed calls from Niki

6 missed calls from Quackity

Tubbo stared at the notifications. Uh-oh.

He quickly dialed Quackity’s number. It barely rang once before he picked up.

“Tubbo?” he said urgently.

“Yeah, what’s going on?"

"Are you okay? Is Ranboo with you?”

“No? I’m fine, I just, um, went out for a bit. What’s going on?”

“Ranboo didn’t show up for work with Niki,” Quackity explained quickly. “She called him, he didn’t pick up, so she called you, and then you didn’t pick up, so she called me. I came to the apartment and no one answered the door and-”

“What?” Tubbo interrupted. “Ranboo should be home.”

Quackity was silent for a moment. “He’s not.”

“Then I don’t know where he is.”

Quackity sighed aggressively into his phone. “Shit. Shit!”

“I’m sure he’s fine-”

“Tubbo, when was the last time you didn’t know where Ranboo was?”

He fell quiet. Never. The answer was never, plain and simple—he’d been by Ranboo’s side since Quackity had first brought him home. This was genuinely the first time since they’d met that Tubbo genuinely didn’t have a clue where Ranboo was. This wasn’t just a is he still in the bathroom or is he in his room now situation or a I wonder if he’s left work yet type thing. If Ranboo wasn’t home, then Tubbo didn’t even know where to begin. Add to that the fact that he wasn’t picking up his phone…

The gravity of the situation sunk into Tubbo’s gut like a stone.

“Big Q, I-I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Where are you?”

Tubbo pursed his lips. “I just drove the Beeboobile out a bit, y’know-”

“Where are you?”

“... Pogtopia.”

He could practically feel Quackity’s panic through the phone.

“Fucking Pogtopia?” he asked frantically. “Is something wrong? Are you okay? Do I need to come get you again?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I-” Tubbo paused. “Wait, what d’you mean, again?”

“I- Tubbo. It’s fucking Pogtopia, last time we were there-”

“We’ve never been here together.”

Quackity didn’t say anything for a moment. “If you really don’t remember, I don’t want to remind you.”

“No, fucking tell me what’s going on!”

“... Tubbo, Pogtopia is- it’s where Schlatt dumped you.”

He almost dropped the phone.

Pain. Darkness. Rock walls that stretched up forever, a very drunk Schlatt. He didn’t know where he was. He couldn’t move, he was crying, he heard the car drive away and he was alone for hours. He was going to die, he was actually going to die-

And then Quackity had been there, just in time. He’d poured water into his mouth when he couldn’t hold the bottle himself, muttering soft reassurances. Another man had been there, too, helping out; he had pressed a gentle hand to Tubbo’s head and his memories were awfully fuzzy after that. He’d passed out eventually. Something had gone wrong, though, because Tubbo when he’d woken up in Schlatt’s house—a place Quackity had sworn up and down that he’d never see again. He still didn’t know what had happened. Schlatt hadn’t given him answers and Quackity looked near tears every time Tubbo brought the event up, so he left the subject alone. All he knew about the other man that had been there was that he was an old friend of Quackity’s that had happened to be in town and willing to help. Tubbo hadn’t seen him since.

He didn’t remember the other man’s face very well—their encounter had been too brief. Now that Tubbo was looking back on the memories again, though, his features were remarkably similar to those of Ghostbur.

It had to be a coincidence, right?

Tubbo stared at the top of the stairs. A few years ago, he’d been left to die in the depths of the ravine. A few years ago, he’d been rescued by Quackity and a stranger, but something had gone wrong. A few years ago, Wilbur had come to Pogtopia with someone that had summoned him and been banished by Schlatt.

It’s so good to see you again!

“Tubbo? Tubbo, are you still there?”

It took a few tries of moving his mouth before any words came out. “We need to talk.”

“We are talking.”

Tubbo shook his head. “No. No, I-I need to be able to look you in the eyes for this.” Tommy appeared from the depths of the ravine, the slight grin on his face replaced by concern the moment he looked at Tubbo. “I have to know.”

“Know what?”

“I’m driving back home right now. We can talk when I get there.”

“Wait-”

“See you soon.”

Tubbo hung up.

“What’s wrong?” Tommy asked.

“Honestly?” Tubbo laughed, walking over to the Beeboobile. “I don’t even know. Just get in the car.”

“Are we going back?”

“Yeah.” Tubbo dropped into his seat and yanked his seatbelt so hard that it locked. “Ranboo’s missing.”

“What?”

“Ranboo’s missing. Okay? We left him at home, and- and he’s not there anymore, and he won’t pick up his phone, and no one knows where he is!” He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. “He’s just gone! We left him alone and now he’s disappeared!”

Tommy stared at his hands. “Oh. Is it… is it my fault?”

“No. It’s mine. I shouldn’t have agreed to this.” Tubbo averted his eyes from the ravine entrance. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“If you say so.”

Tubbo tried to take a deep breath. What a mess everything was. Schlatt had been involved with demons. That was weird enough, but Quackity? The two of them would mess with Fundy at work when he started spouting facts about demons and ghosts (which Tubbo was now realizing were probably all at least somewhat true). He wasn’t mad that Quackity had something supernatural going on—Tubbo really couldn’t judge, not with Tommy sitting in shotgun—but he was a little mad that he hadn’t said anything, especially since it bled over into his own life so much. Keeping shit from him had been Schlatt’s thing. Quackity was different. He was supposed to be different.

Tubbo slammed his foot into the gas pedal and took off down the road.

---

The drive up to Pogtopia had been filled with Tommy talking and pointing at things and generally being a nuisance. On the way back to the apartment, the demon was unusually subdued.

“You know I’m not mad at you, right?” Tubbo asked when they were stopped at a red light.

“You’re mad at somebody.”

“Not you.”

“Then who?” he asked. “I convinced you to go to Pogtopia in the first place.”

“It’s complicated.”

“It always is!” Tommy exclaimed. “Everything about humans is so complicated! You need water to live, but Ranboo is fucking allergic to it. You’re mad because he’s missing, but you don’t think it’s my fault, even though it is. You don’t want to go to hell, but you won’t let me choose you! I don’t-” Tommy gestured wildly. “I don’t get it!”

The light turned green. For a moment, the only sound was the car rolling down the street.

“Do you know how Ranboo and I met?” Tubbo finally asked.

“... No.”

“He lost his memory. Everything, even his name. His cousin and Quackity found him living on the street. He needed someone to help him readjust to life. I was that someone.” Tubbo glued his eyes to the road, not wanting to know how Tommy was looking at him. “Ranboo literally cannot remember life without me. To him, we’ve always been together. He’s probably more scared than I am, and I’m really fucking scared. I’ve always been there. And- and apparently I wasn’t when it mattered. I know that he’d never choose to leave me behind. I shouldn’t have left him behind now, so I can’t do it on that sort of scale.” A new level of disappointment in himself hit when he turned onto their street and the apartment came into view. “I can’t live forever without him. I tell myself that it’s because he’d miss me, but really… I’d miss him too much.” Tubbo parked the car but didn’t get out. “I can’t look him in the eyes and tell him I’m going to be immortal without him. I just can’t. Okay?”

He finally looked at Tommy, who had his lips pursed into a tight line. “I just want you to be happy,” the demon said slowly. “You gave me this time in the Overworld, I think you deserve at least that much. And if choosing you won’t make you happy… then I’ll drop it.”

“Cool.”

Tommy smiled hesitantly. “Cool?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Tubbo climbed out of the car. “Come on, then! Quackity’s probably waiting for me.”

“And you’re going to talk to him?” Tommy asked, jogging effortlessly after him.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Be quiet, mostly,” Tubbo admitted as he stepped into the building. “If you have any answers to my questions, feel free to jump in, I guess. I don’t expect you will, though.”

“What are you asking him about?”

He gripped the old metal banister of the staircase tightly as he climbed it. “A lot of things.”

“Like what?”

“I think he might know Wilbur.”

“What? Really?”

“Yup.” They began to approach the third floor. “I’m gonna shut up now,” he muttered, his voice echoing in the stairwell. “Don’t wanna sound like I’m talking to air.”

Tommy’s hair bobbed up and down with his head as he nodded sagely. “Time to be quiet.”

Tubbo took the last few stairs two at a time and opened the door to the hallway. Quackity and Fundy were waiting only a few steps away, right outside the door to the apartment Tubbo and Ranboo shared. To his surprise, instead of rushing toward him or even saying anything, the two of them immediately looked at each other quizzically and then back at Tubbo. Well. A little to the right of Tubbo—exactly where Tommy was standing. The demon raised an eyebrow.

“Are they…?”

Tubbo didn’t respond. He couldn’t without looking suspicious. Tommy patted himself like he was checking his magic was working and frowned.

“Tubbo,” Quackity said very slowly. “Why the fuck do you have a demon with you?”

Chapter Text

“Why the fuck do you have a demon with you?”

Tommy’s mouth fell open a little bit as he noticed the magic surrounding the two humans standing in the hall. Uh-oh.

“Oh, I don’t know, Quackity,” Tubbo huffed. “Maybe I’ll explain that when you explain the demon Schlatt banished. Or the demon that helped you rescue me. Which I’m pretty sure was the same one, but who knows, maybe there’s even more shit you’re hiding from me-”

“Whoa, whoa, what?” Quackity waved his hands wildly. “How do you know about any of that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about any of that?”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll get to that, but how?”

Tommy sincerely wished he could disappear when Tubbo jabbed a thumb in his direction. “He helped.”

“By accident, mostly.” Tommy waved awkwardly. “Uh. Hi.”

The person that wasn’t Quackity waved back at him. “Hi.”

Both he and Fundy were covered in magic. It wasn’t something Tommy could see so much as sense—there were two types of magic on Quackity, one explosive and intense and the other muted and mysterious. Tommy recognized them after a moment as belonging to Sapnap and Karl. The one that had waved had an unruly and much more familiar magic on him.

“You’re Fundy!” he realized. “You’re Wilbur’s chosen!”

“Uh-” Fundy glanced nervously at Quackity. “Yep. That I am.”

“And you are?” Quackity asked.

“Tommy.”

Quackity’s eyebrows shot upward. “Seriously? You- you’re Tommy?”

Uncertain what to do with all the attention, Tommy put his hands up festively. “Surprise?”

“What the fuck!” Quackity exclaimed, looking at Tubbo. “What kind of shit did you get up to that you summoned the Demon of Chaos?”

“It was an accident!”

“He summoned me directly,” Tommy added. “Long story.”

Fundy cleared his throat. “I’d kind of like to hear that story.”

“Neither of you are hearing shit until you explain what’s going on and we find Ranboo,” Tubbo snapped, marching up to the door and unlocking it. “Sit down. We need to talk.”

Tommy couldn’t hold in a quiet snicker. “Ooh, you’re in trouble.”

Fundy gave him a withering look remarkably reminiscent of Wilbur's.

The two chosen humans walked into the apartment and sat down on the couch. Tubbo looked surprisingly imposing, face fixed in a subtle frown—Tommy stood right behind him for extra intimidation.

“So,” Tubbo said flatly. “Explain.”

Quackity raised a placating hand. “First of all,” he started slowly. “I never wanted to lie to you, and I avoided doing it as much as I could.”

Tubbo shrugged. “You still lied about a lot of shit. Tell me what’s going on and then I’ll decide how mad to be at you.”

Tommy nodded in agreement. Good for Tubbo, being all assertive.

“Yeah,” he said encouragingly. “Tell him what’s going on.”

Fundy sank into the couch a little bit. “I don’t feel like this is a conversation I should be a part of-”

“Shut up,” Tommy told him.

Fundy flipped him off. Quackity slapped his hand down instantly.

“Oh, come on,” Fundy huffed. “He’s Wilbur’s little brother, what’s he gonna do, smite me or some shit?”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Tommy assured him. “Wilbur likes you very much.”

“Not now,” Tubbo and Quackity said at the same time.

Tommy shut his mouth with a soft click and Fundy sank even further into the couch.

“Anyway,” Quackity sighed. “I’ll start at the beginning. Do you know what it means to be chosen by a demon?”

“I do,” Tubbo confirmed.

“Well. I’m chosen by two demons, Destruction and Forgetfulness.”

Tubbo pointed at Fundy. “And he’s chosen by Wilbur? How fucking old are you guys?”

Fundy shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Oh, bullshit, you haven’t lost count yet,” Quackity said, nudging him with an elbow. “He’s only thirty-six. I’m… a lot older. Four hundred years, give or take.”

Tommy snorted quietly, unimpressed. Tubbo looked like his mind had just been blown.

“O-okay,” he stammered. “Aren’t there only, like, four of you guys?”

Quackity rubbed the back of his neck. “We tend to stick together. The other two aren’t too far away.”

Tubbo blinked. And then he just… kept blinking, like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Oi, Big T.” Tommy tapped him on the shoulder. “You there?”

“Yeah, yeah. Um-” Tubbo coughed quickly into his fist. “Anyway. The explanation, Big Q?”

“Right. Well…” Quackity leaned forward on his knees. “Schlatt was an occultist, a mortal with extensive knowledge of the supernatural. I’ve worked with a lot of occultists over my years, and as much as it pains me to say this, Schlatt was my favorite for a while. I really thought we were friends.”

He paused.

“But…?” Tommy prompted.

“But he was an asshole, and I just didn’t know it yet,” Quackity said. “Tubbo, you really don’t want to hear this next part, I-”

“Tell me,” Tubbo insisted stubbornly.

Tommy raised his eyebrows, daring Quackity not to.

“Schlatt and I found you on the side of the road when you were a baby,” he explained. “He took you in, and I let him. That was the worst mistake of my life.”

“Fucking knew I was adopted,” Tubbo muttered.

Fundy choked on nothing. “Sorry, what?”

“He never told you?” Quackity ran a hand down his face. “You know what, I shouldn’t be surprised. See… Schlatt was struggling with alcoholism even back then. I didn’t know, he hid it well, but he was desperate.” He sighed heavily. “Tubbo, have you ever heard that people can sacrifice their firstborn child to a demon in exchange for a favor?”

Tubbo went pale. “Yeah.”

Tommy was suddenly able to put all the pieces together in his head. “Oh, shit.”

“He- he was a good dad to you for a little bit, after a rough start.” Quackity had tears in his eyes. “It wasn’t real, though. It was just so that he could- he could call you his son and try to trade you to a demon for a cure to his addiction. And it still kills me every damn day that he decided he would rather do that than come to me for help. Can’t help but wonder what I did wrong, you know?”

Fundy put a hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Schlatt had serious problems, man.”

Quackity acknowledged his words with only a short nod. “Well, the point is, Tubbo, that Schlatt tried to sacrifice you to a demon when you were a baby. He wound up summoning Wilbur and offered you up immediately.” He laughed bitterly. “And the shittiest thing is that you would’ve been better off if it had worked. The only reason Wilbur didn’t agree to the deal was because he couldn’t—since you were adopted, you weren’t technically Schlatt’s firstborn, so the magic wouldn’t work. The thing is, demons usually take that deal because they know they could take care of the kid better than their parent could. The demon doesn’t kill the kid, they raise them. Not that Schlatt actually knew any of that. He didn’t care what happened to you.”

“Wh- but if you knew what he did to me,” Tubbo asked, “why didn’t you do anything?”

He was shaking violently, although he wasn’t crying—he seemed too shocked to cry. Tommy leaned against him gently in an attempt to comfort him.

“I didn’t know,” Quackity admitted. “I didn’t have a fucking clue. I had just opened Las Nevadas. Fundy had barely been chosen and I was busy mentoring him. I didn’t notice any of the signs. I’m sorry.”

“Even I didn’t know,” Fundy said. “Demons don’t usually share their dealings with humans, chosen or not. I hadn’t met Schlatt at the time and Quackity hadn’t met Wilbur, so… we just didn’t hear about it.”

Tubbo had his arms wrapped tight around his torso, like he was hugging himself. Tommy glared at the two humans on the couch in a warning and resolved to hug Tubbo after the conversation was over.

“Then how did you hear about it?” Tubbo asked.

Quackity took a deep breath. “When you went missing-”

“You mean when Schlatt left me in a cave to fucking die?”

“Yes,” Quackity said, voice tight. “When your drunk, bastardly excuse for a dad dumped you in a ravine and drove away, I didn’t know where you were. And I- and I cared about you. I had to find you, and I ended up working with Wilbur to do that. We did find you, but Schlatt found us. He was sober enough at that point that he could banish Wilbur and take you back. The, uh-” Quackity clapped his hands together. “The rest is history. I think you know the story from there.”

Tubbo sat down on the floor. “If he didn’t want me, then why did he keep me?”

“He was in too deep, I guess,” Quackity told him. “I already knew that he’d claimed you as his son. Would’ve been tough to get rid of you at that point.” He pursed his lips. “Tubbo, I-”

“Save it,” he snapped. “My whole goddamn life, you’ve been lying to me. Why didn’t you just tell me any of this?”

Quackity looked stricken. “Schlatt was scared of you finding out what he’d done. I wanted to tell you, I really did, but he always said he’d explain when you were older and since he was supposed to be your dad, I… I listened to him.” He leaned back with a sigh. “By the time he was dead it was too much to put on you, and then Ranboo came along and… I was going to tell you when you turned eighteen.”

Tommy tilted his head to the side curiously. “What’s Ranboo got to do with all of this?”

“That’s… not for me to say right now,” Quackity said.

Tubbo threw his hands in the air. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means-”

Someone knocked frantically on the door. Everyone paused and turned to look at it. The knocking came again.

“I know you guys are in there, open the fucking door!”

Tubbo raised his eyebrows. “Wh- Purpled?” He narrowed his eyes at Quackity suspiciously. “Don’t tell me he’s chosen, too-”

“He’s not,” Quackity said briskly, making his way toward the door.

“Ay!” Tubbo cut in front of him. “It’s my place, I’ll get the door!”

The moment the door opened, a new wave of magic entered the room. Tommy couldn’t suppress an audible hiss. It was an assault to his senses, corrupted and vile, like the magical equivalent of rot. It was wrong.

It was Dream’s.

Tubbo gasped loudly. “Oh, my god, Ranboo!” A blond boy—Purpled, apparently—helped a glassy-eyed and magic-doused Ranboo to the couch. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Dream,” Tommy spat at the same time as Purpled.

Tubbo glanced between them cluelessly. “A dream?”

“No, Dream,” Quackity said grimly. “He’s a demon with a tendency to be a pain in the ass.”

“He has a tendency to be a fucking menace,” Tommy snapped, gesturing at Ranboo and backing up to get away from the awful magic. “His magic is all over him.”

“What do you mean?” Tubbo hurried to Ranboo’s side. “What does he mean?”

“Met a demon,” Ranboo muttered, face completely expressionless as he leaned slowly into the couch cushions.

Tubbo looked up helplessly. Quackity grabbed Purpled’s arm.

“What the hell happened?”

“I told you, Dream,” Purpled said. “He came by the house to talk to Punz right after I heard Ranboo was missing, so I snuck out to check all the places he likes to hang around in, and what do you know-” he pointed at Ranboo. “I find him unconscious in that mansion Bad haunts. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Quackity put a hand up. “Wait, you snuck out?”

“Not the most pressing issue right now!” Purpled exclaimed. “I called Punz once I thought Dream had left, it’s fine…”

The two of them continued bickering, but Tommy tuned it out. He took a seat on the floor beside Tubbo. Ranboo was way out of it, staring at nothing as Tubbo held his hand. Tommy examined the magic flowing off of him curiously. Dream’s magic was inherently gross to him—and sort of sticky, in a way—but he’d never seen anything quite like what was all over Ranboo. It was almost like he’d been chosen, but… off, like Ranboo was somehow locked in it. There was none of the warmth that usually came with a chosen bond. Tommy laid a hand on his shoulder and couldn’t suppress an involuntary shudder. He frowned.

“Tommy?” Fundy glanced between him and Ranboo. “Do you know what happened?”

He shrugged uncertainly. “Maybe.”

“Well, you’re the only one here that can perceive passive magic.” Fundy sat down. “What do you think is wrong?”

Tommy bit his lip. Tubbo was looking at him, anxiety written all over his face. People wanted answers. Tommy was probably the least qualified demon to give them, but he was the only one in the room.

“I think he’s possessed.”

Chapter Text

Ranboo woke up to someone repeatedly hitting him in the face.

“Ranboo!” The person wasn’t hitting him particularly hard, but it was still annoying. “Ranboo, wake up, man!”

“Hm?”

“C’mon, get up!”

“‘M sleepin’.”

“Yeah, uh-huh, I see that, but you fucking shouldn’t be.”

Ranboo blinked slowly—it felt like someone had stuffed his head with cotton. “Purpled?”

“Yep, that’s me.” He shook his head disbelievingly. “What are you doing here?”

“What? Why are you in my-” Ranboo gestured vaguely, forgetting the word. “My house?”

Purpled stared at him blankly. “Dude. This is not your house.”

Ranboo looked around without really taking anything in. “Yeah, it is.”

“No.”

“Yeah!”

“Holy shit, it’s not. Just get up.” Purpled lugged him to his feet. “What happened to you?”

Ranboo shrugged absently as Purpled ushered him toward the door, too dazed to really care where he was going. “Dunno.”

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say Dream fucked you up.” A very nice Mustang was parked outside—Purpled helped Ranboo into the passenger’s seat. “Try not to touch anything too much, this thing is Punz’s baby.”

“Punz?”

“My legal guardian.”

“Never met ‘im.”

Purpled sighed. “Ruse is up, I guess. You haven’t met him because he’s a demon.”

Ranboo probably should’ve felt more surprised, but he didn’t feel much besides tired. “Like Dream?”

“Yes! Do you know who that is?”

A smiling mask. Pain. Hold still.

Ranboo shuddered.

“He’s mean.”

“You learn fast,” Purpled muttered, turning the key in the ignition. “Put your seatbelt on, I’m about to break so many laws.”

It took Ranboo approximately seven tries to put his seatbelt on correctly. He didn’t feel… present. Like he hadn’t woken up all the way yet.

“Where are we going?” he asked semi-deliriously.

“Your place, it’s like a thirty-second drive, so just hang on. The whole gang should be there already, they’re worried sick.”

“Why?”

“Because you went missing, dumbass!”

Purpled made a sudden left turn on what Ranboo thought was a red light. That was illegal, wasn’t it? He wasn’t really sure in his current state.

“I didn’t go missing,” he insisted. “I was right there. They don’t need to worry.”

“No one knew where you were. You didn’t answer any calls. I’m pretty sure you had an unpleasant chat with a demon.” Purpled turned into the parking lot so fast the tires squealed. “I’d call that adequate cause for concern!”

Ranboo just snorted disbelievingly as the car came to a stop. Yeah, right. Like he was in danger. He was totally fine.

He opened the door and promptly fell face-first onto the asphalt.

The pain sent a jolt through his head, both literally and metaphorically. It had hurt when Dream had claimed him. It still kind of hurt. He suddenly became aware of something in his head, almost holding him hostage. He couldn’t think properly around it. Dream had… Dream had claimed him. Ranboo didn’t know what that meant, but he knew it wasn’t good.

The sting of hitting the ground faded. So did Ranboo’s awareness.

“Shit!” Purpled helped him to his feet. “You need some serious help, man!”

A voice that wasn’t his laughed in the back of his mind. Yeah, Ranboo. You need some help.

“Mmmm,” he hummed in agreement. “Need Dream out of my head.”

Purpled froze. “Dream’s in your head?”

Ranboo shrugged noncommittally. “Maybe.”

“Come on, Quackity can probably help.”

“‘M tired.”

“That’s nice, we have to climb three flights of stairs to your apartment.”

Ranboo frowned. “I don’t like that.”

“Me neither.”

It was a struggle to get to the apartment. That was mostly Ranboo’s fault—he knew that, but he couldn’t really find it in him to care. He felt like he should be frustrated with himself. He wasn’t.

Oh, well.

He grew more and more tired as they went on. By the time they got to the front door, he was barely present. Purpled shouted when he knocked and Ranboo tuned him out, irritated at the noise—when he tuned back in, he was on the couch in the apartment. Tubbo was there, speaking frantically. He was asking something… maybe what was going on?

“Met a demon,” Ranboo muttered.

That didn’t seem to help the situation at all, so he just zoned out again. Focusing on things was too hard. There was something like a heartbeat in the back of his head, pulsing endlessly. Ranboo couldn’t make it stop, couldn’t make it leave—the only relief he could find was in leaning into it, but somehow that felt vile.

Oh, come on. Ranboo was too tired to flinch at the voice in his head. You’d feel so much better if the bond went both ways.

The bond. The bond, the bond, the bond. Dream had bonded with him through magic… somehow. Ranboo blinked slowly as he tried to think around the senseless noise in his head. Someone put a hand on his shoulder.

You know, maybe this little independence kick you’re on has a bright side, Dream’s voice said. At least you’re obedient this way.

Obedient? Ranboo thought sluggishly. In what way was he-

Move aside for a minute, would you?

Suddenly, Ranboo was moving without trying to—he was moving despite actively trying not to. He was out of his own control. To make matters worse, he couldn’t even tell exactly what he was doing. A green haze shrouded his vision, and while he could hear people shouting, their voices were muffled. Some of his exhaustion disappeared, only to be replaced with confusion. Was he hurting anyone? It sounded like there were lots of people in the room. He wasn’t trying to do anything, but he could feel himself moving around.

Dream wasn’t just a voice, he was fully in his head and doing things.

Ranboo found himself reduced to shouting at the walls of his own mind. Dream didn’t acknowledge his efforts, if he could hear or feel or sense them or whatever. He wanted himself back and the bond forced upon him gone. He screamed without making a sound.

Please, he thought uselessly, struggling just to keep his wits about him. Let me go. Let me go, let me go, let me go-

Water splashed onto his shoulder. Ranboo panicked, shrieking at the same time as Dream, and fell to the ground. His vision cleared as the demon-induced fog faded into the back of his mind. Frantically, he reached up to dry his shoulder off, his delight at being able to move again mitigated by the nasty feeling of water on his skin. Tubbo was by his side in an instant, carelessly discarding a bottle—Prime water.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Tubbo assured him, using a blanket to help dry him off. “Sorry, I had to.”

“What happened?” Ranboo asked, his voice shaking.

“You’re possessed.” That had to be Tommy—he looked exactly how Ranboo had imagined a teenage demon might look, and he knew everyone else in the room. “Had to fucking douse you with Prime water to get you to stop attacking me.”

Ranboo stared briefly at a hand-shaped bruise forming on Tommy's neck, then glanced around. Purpled, Quackity, and Fundy were present as well, expressions concerned but not confused.

“This doesn’t, um-” Ranboo stumbled over his words. “This doesn’t look like it’s news to any of you.”

“The fact that you’re possessed is new,” Quackity said. “And bad news at that. But the fact that someone can be possessed is… not.”

“He and Fundy are chosen by demons,” Tubbo said, tone bitter. “Something they neglected to mention until now.”

“Chosen?” Ranboo asked.

“It’s like what happened to you with Dream,” Fundy told him. “A demon chose to favor us, except we chose them back.”

Tubbo pointed at Purpled. “Does someone want to explain what his deal is?”

“My parents sacrificed me to a demon when I was two,” Purpled said nonchalantly. “Instead of killing me or whatever, he raised me.”

Tubbo stared at him for a moment before turning to Quackity. “So I was almost- if Wilbur had-”

“Yeah,” Quackity sighed. “You were almost like him.”

Ranboo’s brain short-circuited. “Sorry, what?”

“Yeah, apparently, Schlatt was a fucking occultist,” Tubbo huffed. “He tried to sacrifice me to Tommy’s brother.”

Ranboo laid down on the floor. “This is too weird.”

Fundy coughed awkwardly. “So, which would we rather discuss first: how to get Ranboo unpossessed, or his history with the supernatural?”

Ranboo sat up again sharply. “I’m sorry, I have a history with the supernatural?”

“None of us know very much about it,” Quackity admitted. “You, uh, you chose to forget it all.”

“What? I chose to? But why-” Ranboo’s breath caught in his throat as he remembered his encounter in the Badlands. “Dream. Dream, he- he said the same thing. That I chose to forget. That I chose to forget him.”

“Holy shit,” Tommy muttered. “I think I know who you are. You’re the kid that Karl gave a blank slate to a few years back.”

Ranboo was near tears—the thing Dream had put in his head was starting to throb again. “Who’s Karl?”

“Karl is the Demon of Forgetfulness,” Quackity explained gently. “I’m chosen by him. A few years ago, you summoned him and begged to forget everything. Karl was worried about you, so he came to me and I got you off the streets.”

It was too much. Ranboo had believed in the supernatural for as long as he could remember—even longer than he could remember, apparently—but being possessed? Learning he’d had a demon wipe his memories and not even knowing why? He couldn’t handle it.

Aw, are you scared?

Ranboo jumped at the sound of Dream’s voice, hands instinctively going up to claw at his hair. “He’s in my head,” he said frantically. “Dream’s in my head, he’s talking, I can’t get him out-”

He cut off with a gasp as Purpled splashed him with Prime water again, scrambling to get the blanket he’d dried off with earlier.

“Is there really no other way to help?” Tubbo asked.

“Right now, the best we can do is Prime water,” Quackity said. “We need a permanent fix, but finding one will be… difficult.”

“I can’t keep getting splashed.” Ranboo wiped at his damp shirt desperately. “I really can’t.”

“I have an idea,” Tommy piped up. “We need my dad.”

Silence fell over the room. Ranboo had done his research, he understood the implications of summoning the King of Hell. Angels, even fallen angels, didn’t go to the Overworld casually. Purpled spoke first.

“I mean. He’d be able to help.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Fundy said quickly, waving his hands. “We can’t just summon the King of Hell!”

“You can’t,” Tommy huffed. “I can.”

He wasn’t wrong—Tommy was one of very few beings that could summon him. Ranboo knew how angels were supposed to work. They only came to the Overworld to smite something or someone that had wronged them or their family. As his son, Tommy would be able to summon him to smite whoever had hurt him. But wouldn’t that mean…?

“Wait,” Ranboo said. “But- but I attacked you, didn’t I? So he would smite me.”

Tommy reached up, fingers ghosting along the bruise on his neck—Dream must’ve been able to use his magic when he possessed Ranboo, because there was no way that a measly human could’ve left the mark.

“You didn’t attack me,” he said. “That was Dream, using you. He’d smite Dream, but it would… take a little explaining.”

“Is that even possible?” Tubbo asked. “Could he smite another demon?”

“Philza is technically a fallen angel,” Quackity told him. “So, yeah. He could banish Dream to a place called the End. He’d be gone for good. Stuck there for eternity.”

“Sounds like a win for everyone to me,” Tommy said.

“It’s dangerous,” Quackity insisted.

“What?” Tommy straightened his posture, tail flicking irritably. “What are you gonna do? Tell me no?”

The tension was unlike anything Ranboo had ever seen. Quackity was the authority figure in his life—he ran the casino, he sorted everything out. He was the boss. Watching a staredown between him and a teenage demon felt unreal. Given that the teenage demon was the Prince of Hell, he won.

“I can’t stop you,” Quackity finally said. “Just don’t let anyone get hurt.”

Tommy grinned. “‘Course not. Now-” he clapped his hands, looking around at the incredibly crowded living room. “It’d be rather rude to bring him here.”

“Las Nevadas?” Fundy proposed.

Tubbo raised an eyebrow. “The casino?”

“Yeah, well, it’s not just a casino,” Quackity sighed. “Ideally we’d go somewhere with more significance to summon the King of Hell, but time is short, so it’ll do.”

“What are we waiting for, then?” Tubbo asked. “Let’s go!”

“Hold on, kid, I’ve got a better way of getting there.” Quackity pulled out his phone and dialed a number before holding it up to his ear. “Hi, Foolish? Your services are required at the apartment.”

Chapter Text

“Hi, Foolish? Your services are required at the apartment.”

Tubbo frowned. “Who the fuck is Fool-”

“Cover your eyes,” Quackity told him, hanging up the phone. “You, too, Ranboo.”

Ranboo complied immediately, but after everything that had happened in the last day, Tubbo wasn’t about to do anything for Quackity before he knew why. “Why?”

“I’m serious, cover your eyes.”

“Okay, but why-”

Quackity slapped a hand over his face just before a flash of light burst through the room. When Quackity lowered his hand, a tall man in Las Nevadas suspenders stood next to the coffee table. He had the greenest eyes Tubbo had ever seen.

“What the- how-”

“Tubbo, Ranboo, meet Foolish,” Quackity said. “Foolish, meet Tubbo and Ranboo.”

The man waved at them cheerfully. “Hi! Nice to finally meet you two.” His smile faltered as he looked at Ranboo. “You’re, um-” he lowered his voice and turned to Quackity. “He’s possessed.”

“We noticed,” Quackity sighed.

“Uh, hi,” Ranboo muttered. “You’re a demon.”

“You have a demon working at Las Nevadas?” Tubbo asked incredulously.

“He’s part-time,” Quackity and Fundy said in unison.

“Hi, Foolish!” Tommy greeted him brightly.

Foolish offered him a fist bump. “Hey, Tommy.”

“You’ve met?” Tubbo asked.

“Of course!” Tommy affirmed. “Foolish is the Demon of Sacrifice, he’s very nice.”

He presented those two things as if they were connected. Tubbo didn’t see it.

“Okay,” he said, “but why does he know where I live?”

Foolish laughed nervously. “I helped scope this place out for you guys, actually. Quackity wouldn’t let us meet, though, since… y’know.” He gestured vaguely to himself. “Demon.”

Tubbo nodded curtly. “Great, next question, how the fuck did you get here?”

“Different demons can do different things,” Quackity explained. “A few, including Foolish, can teleport. He’s going to take us to the casino.”

Foolish held out a broad arm. “Grab on.”

Tubbo glanced from the arm to Tommy then to Ranboo and then finally to Quackity. “You’re serious?”

Purpled roughly patted him on the shoulder once. “You’re not gonna die.” Foolish raised his arm as he reached for him. “Hey!”

Purpled had to jump to grab onto Foolish, who then lowered him back to the floor. Hesitantly, Tubbo placed his hand on the demon’s arm next to him. His skin felt oddly metallic.

“Everybody get close,” Foolish instructed. “There are a lot of you.”

Tommy somehow vaulted onto his shoulders. Quackity and Fundy held on to his other arm, and Ranboo had to be supported between Tubbo and Purpled.

“What if we let go?” Ranboo asked nervously.

“Um.” Foolish grimaced. “Don’t?”

Tubbo held on a little tighter.

“Everybody ready?” Quackity checked.

Everyone mumbled a “yes,” except for Tommy, who loudly stated, “I was fuckin’ born ready.”

“On three,” Foolish said. “Don’t forget to shield your eyes.” Tubbo squeezed his shut but didn’t dare to let go of the demon with either hand. “One, two, three!”

Tubbo’s eyelids flashed white. The trip was so instantaneous that he hardly had any time to be concerned—there was no lurch or rush of wind or anything. The light faded and Tubbo blinked open his eyes to find himself in a room filled with mismatched couches. A single table sat in one corner, some half-finished card game abandoned on it, and a bar took up a whole wall.

“Welcome to the Las Nevadas casino staff lounge,” Quackity declared.

“You have a bar in the staff lounge?” Tubbo asked. “No wonder you never let me past the lobby.”

“Yeah, don’t touch it. Foolish, keep an eye on him.” Quackity pointed at people as he said their names. “Tommy, Ranboo, you’re with me in there.” He indicated a nondescript door in the back of the room. “The rest of you wait here.”

“Hold on, you’re just making me wait outside?” Tubbo crossed his arms. “You can’t just go do demonic shit with my best friend and be like ‘okay, now go sit on the bench! It’ll be fine, I swear!’ No!”

“Tubbo, this is dangerous,” Quackity insisted.

“I don’t care!”

Last time he’d left Ranboo, he’d wound up possessed. His roommate was pointedly looking at the ground, clearly torn between siding with him and siding with Quackity. Tubbo took that in stride. Ranboo wanted him there, even if he wasn’t saying so.

“I can’t let you in,” Quackity said firmly. “You don’t have enough experience with this kind of stuff.”

“Oh, yeah? And whose fault is that?”

An awkward hush fell over the room. The blatant pain on Quackity’s face made Tubbo feel a tinge of guilt, but the words were already out of his mouth. And he was right, wasn’t he?

“Let’s not do this here,” Quackity requested softly. “Not now. Once this is all over, I’ll sit you down and we can talk about everything.”

Tubbo bit his lip stubbornly. The whole room was looking at him—it wasn’t a good feeling. He couldn’t just stay in the lounge with Fundy, Purpled, and Foolish after saying something like that to Quackity. Hell, he had some words for Fundy and Purpled, too, but Ranboo was more important. Tubbo needed to be with him.

He turned to Tommy.

“Tommy?” The demon snapped to attention. “You still owe me a favor, don’t you?”

Quackity shook his head rapidly. “Tubbo, don’t-”

“I do,” Tommy interrupted with a devious grin.

“I want to be there when you summon your dad,” Tubbo said.

Tommy shrugged like it was no big deal. “Done.”

Quackity ran a hand down his face. Purpled whistled.

“You have fun with that,” he said. “I’m staying out here.”

“You guys are so weird,” Tommy scoffed. “It’s just my dad, man.”

No one, not even Foolish, seemed comforted by that.

“Let’s just do this,” Quackity sighed. “You three, come on.”

Tubbo guided Ranboo through the door, Tommy trailing protectively behind them. Waiting on the other side was a large, empty room with a domed ceiling. There was a burn mark in the center of the floor. There were no windows, and all light disappeared as Quackity shut and locked the door. A moment later, he lit a lantern.

“You couldn’t have just put a light switch in here?” Tubbo asked.

“It’s for the vibe,” Quackity said shortly. “Tommy, you’re up.”

“Right, then.” Tommy shooed them all closer to the middle of the room. “Everybody just, like, stay calm, yeah?”

Ranboo hissed in pain, a hand going to his head. “Can you hurry?”

Tommy nodded resolutely. There was a sudden and inexplicable change in the air as his magic started working. It was raw anticipation—the feeling that something big was about to happen.

Tommy opened his mouth, and Tubbo found himself bracing for something.

“PHILLLLLLLL!”

The tension in the air imploded, collapsing in on a single point in the dead center of the room, and there stood a man with massive black wings and a glowing sword.

“Who the fuck am I smiting?”

“No one here!” Tommy told him quickly. “Phil, this is Tubbo, he’s my… friend. And Quackity, you’ve probably heard of him. And this is Ranboo, he’s possessed by Dream.”

“Take it Dream’s the one that needs smiting, then?”

“Yup.”

Phil’s intense blue eyes focused on Ranboo. “You’d think he would’ve learned from last time, huh?”

“Think he learned the wrong thing,” Quackity muttered.

“Learned from what?” Tubbo asked.

“Dream has a history of being, well… possessive,” Phil said with a short laugh. “Demon of Covetousness and all that.” He knelt down next to Ranboo. “Why does he want you?”

He shook his head miserably. “I-I don’t know.”

“You’re okay, mate,” Phil assured him. “I can banish Dream from you, but he’ll feel that, and he’ll probably come running. It’s not gonna be fun.”

“Just do it,” Ranboo pleaded.

Tommy nodded in agreement. “Smite the bitch.”

Phil pointed at Tubbo, who had never felt so seen as when the fallen angel looked at him. “You’re mortal.”

“Um.” He swallowed nervously. “Yes.”

“Why are you here?”

“Oh!” Tommy spoke up for him. “Tubbo’s the one that summoned me!”

Phil’s gaze warmed immediately. “I see. Might wanna step back while I do this, mate.”

Tubbo did so hesitantly, keeping an eye on Ranboo. “Will he be okay?”

“He should be, yeah,” Phil said. “Wouldn’t wanna break him.”

Ranboo, Quackity, and Tubbo all laughed nervously at that. Phil extended a hand toward Ranboo, who promptly slumped to the floor before he could even touch him.

“Shit!” Quackity exclaimed.

“What’s going on?” Tubbo asked. “I thought-” Ranboo started to convulse. “What’s going on?”

Quackity raised the bottle of Prime water. “Just stay over there!”

Tommy shuffled closer to his dad, who stubbornly continued to reach for Ranboo. Tubbo yelped as his roommate’s hand suddenly shot up and snatched Phil’s arm. Everyone froze.

And then Ranboo threw him.

Tommy immediately hurried to Phil’s side while Quackity began spraying Prime water on Ranboo. Tubbo opened his mouth to tell him to stop, because surely he’d done enough by now, but Ranboo only hissed in pain. His eyes weren’t dazed and green-tinted as they were the last time he’d been under Dream’s control—they were fully glowing and eerily focused. He grabbed Quackity by the throat and slammed him into the ground with far more strength than should have been possible. Quackity raised the hand he wore his rings on, only for Ranboo to seize and twist it with a nasty crunch.

“None of that,” he hissed.

“Stop!” Tubbo cried. “Ranboo, stop!”

Slowly, Ranboo turned to look at him. “Hello,” he said calmly, still strangling Quackity. “You must be Ranboo’s friend… Tubbo, if his memory serves correctly.”

“Wh-what?” Tubbo choked out.

“That’s not Ranboo,” Phil said, ruffling his wings as he got to his feet. “Dream is fully possessing him.”

Ranboo’s face stretched into a devious smile that wasn’t his. “I’m a little honored, honestly,” he chuckled. “I didn’t think I was a big enough deal for the king himself to make an appearance. I suppose I should’ve expected that Tommy would run to you, though.” The demon shrunk away at the mention of his name, something Tubbo had never seen him do before, and Dream leaned to see him better. “Hi, Tommy.”

“Don’t talk to him,” Phil snapped.

“Still bitter?” Dream taunted.

Quackity let out a strangled gasp from beneath him, his face slowly turning purple.

“Let him go!” Tubbo pleaded.

“Why?” Dream asked. “Why should I?”

“He’s chosen,” Tommy spoke up. “Hurt him and his demons will hurt you.”

“I wonder why it is,” Dream said over Quackity’s desperate but weakening struggles, “that there’s so much respect for every chosen bond except mine.”

“You didn’t bond with that boy, you possessed him.” Phil pointed his sword at him. “And you’ve hurt my son for the last time.”

Quackity stopped moving.

Phil attacked.

Dream was forced to release his grip on Quackity to fight him. Tubbo sprinted forward, heedless of the dueling demons, and dragged him to the sidelines.

“Come on, wake up.” Quackity’s head lolled as he shook him. “Wake up!” Tubbo put an ear to his mouth, his panic increasing tenfold as he realized that he wasn’t breathing. “Shit!”

Tommy came running over, skidding to a stop on his knees beside him. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s not breathing!” Tubbo exclaimed. “H e’s not breathing!”

He reached with shaking hands to find a pulse on his neck and was met with nothing. And nothing in the next place he checked, and nothing again, and nothing, nothing, nothing.

“Tubbo, he-”

“He’s dead,” Tubbo realized numbly, staring at the corpse in his arms. “He- he’s fucking dead.”

“He’ll be fine.”

“He’s dead!” Tubbo screamed. “He’s not gonna be fine, he’s dead!”

“Listen to me!” Tommy said, putting his hands on his shoulders. “Quackity is chosen, he can’t die! He’ll be fine.”

“How the fuck is he dead if he can’t fucking die?” Tubbo demanded.

Tommy grabbed the hand that Dream had broken, wincing minutely as a blast of something green and glowing hit the wall not far too far away from them. “You see these rings? They’re from his demons. As long as they stay with him, he’ll be fine, I promise.”

A pulse of magic shook the air. Tubbo looked over to the fight to see that Phil had forced Dream into a kneeling position. He had one hand on his forehead and the other on his collarbone—Dream seemed to be struggling, but he barely even moved in the King of Hell’s grip. Jet black magic spread from beneath the pair and up the walls.

“He’s doing it,” Tommy said softly.

There was a flash of darkness that completely smothered the light of the lantern. When it faded away, the fire shone brightly as if it had never happened, and its glow illuminated not one, but two figures on the floor in front of Phil. One was Ranboo—unconscious and sweaty, but otherwise physically fine. The other had to be Dream—battered and bruised, but still absolutely terrifying. Phil raised his sword. Before it could come down, Dream snatched Ranboo with one hand and they both vanished in a puff of green smoke. The blade struck the ground.

A wave of intense stress that Tubbo had never felt before surged through him, and he promptly passed out.

Chapter Text

Tommy caught Tubbo when he passed out.

“Shit!”

He and Phil swore at the same time. Tommy clung to Tubbo, staring at the spot where Dream had disappeared. He’d taken Ranboo with him, too. Damn. Ranboo was important to Tubbo, and Tubbo was important to Tommy, and maybe, just maybe, Tommy still felt bad about splashing him.

Whatever the reason was, he needed to get Ranboo the fuck away from Dream.

“Where’d he go?” Tommy asked anxiously.

“Don’t know. The fucker teleported.” Phil put away his sword, fixing his concerned eyes on Tommy. “You okay?”

Tommy looked away. “Fine.”

Phil pursed his lips, then pointed at the two humans next to him. “What about them?”

“Uh-” Tommy laid Tubbo down gently. “They’re not doing too great.”

Phil made his way over, sitting down next to him. “What happened?”

“Well, Quackity’s dead.”

“He’ll be fine.”

“I know. Still dead, though.”

Phil indicated Tubbo. “What about him? Tubbo, right?”

“I don’t know what happened to him,” Tommy said. “He just… passed out.”

“Stress, probably,” Phil sighed. “What’s the story here, anyway?”

“Tubbo summoned me by accident.”

“He what?”

“He and Ranboo are roommates,” Tommy explained. “Ranboo’s the one that knows about the supernatural. Tubbo messed around with his stuff and wound up summoning me. But he’s really nice, so… I’m just glad to be here.”

Phil hummed in acknowledgment. “You could leave, you know.”

“What?”

“Your deal is complete, I can feel it,” Phil said. “I know you probably don’t want anything to do with Dream, so if you wanted to, you could go back-”

“Wh- no!” Tommy sputtered. “I’m not leaving!”

“Tommy…”

“I’m not leaving.”

“Are you sure you want to be here for this?” Phil asked. “Last time, you told me to let Dream be. This can’t be easy for you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s different now, innit?” Tommy perched his chin on top of his knees, pulling them close to him. “He’s not just messing with me anymore. He’s hurting other people, too.”

“Tommy, I should’ve obliterated Dream for what he did to you.”

He winced minutely at the memory. “He was my friend, though.”

“But not anymore?”

Tubbo was unconscious. Ranboo was gone. Quackity was dead.

“Yeah,” Tommy said softly. “Not anymore.”

“You care about these humans, don’t you?”

“I want to choose Tubbo,” Tommy admitted. “He, uh, he doesn’t want to live forever without Ranboo, though. So that’s that.”

“That explains the passing out.” Phil stood up with a sigh. “We need to get Quackity somewhere to rest until he wakes up.”

“Oh! We’re at his casino right now, actually. His friends can help.” Tommy scrambled to his feet, then paused, glancing at the two humans on the floor. “Um. Keep an eye on them for a second, would you?”

“Sure, Tommy.”

He hurried to the door, fiddling with the locks before managing to get it open. Fundy, Purpled, and Foolish all shot to attention immediately.

“Hi,” Tommy said. “We have a bit of a situation.”

“What happened?” Fundy asked.

“Well…” Tommy took a deep breath. “Dream disappeared with Ranboo and Quackity’s dead and Tubbo passed the fuck out.” The three of them stared at him incredulously. “But Phil is here! And he’s helping out!”

“Yeah, because that definitely cancels out the other things you just listed,” Purpled drawled sarcastically. “Sounds like it’s time for damage control.”

“Uh-” Foolish coughed awkwardly. “Eret’s calling me. I’ll be back.”

The demon disappeared in a flash of yellow and green. Fundy slowly raised a hand to his mouth.

“Oh, man,” he muttered. “Let’s go see what we can do before Eret shows up to chew us all out for being idiots.”

Tommy held the door for the two of them. They froze as soon as they stepped into the room, staring at Phil. He smiled and stood up, brushing the dust off his clothes as he did so. Fundy knelt down on one knee. Purpled looked at him cluelessly, clearly uncertain if he should be doing the same.

“Your Majesty,” Fundy said.

Phil waved his hands. “Oh, none of that. Wilbur speaks very highly of you, Fundy.”

He startled at his name as he got to his feet. “You know who I am?”

“I know my son’s magic when I see it.” He turned to Purpled. “And you are…?”

“Oh, um, Purpled,” he said. “I’m bound to Punz.”

Phil nodded and gestured to Quackity and Tubbo. “Can you help these two?”

“We can do our best,” Fundy pledged.

“Thank you,” Phil told him. “Tommy and I need to work on finding Ranboo.”

Purpled raised his hand. “Um, Your Majesty?”

“Phil is fine.”

“Right. Phil,” he said. “Dream came to speak with Punz earlier. I know they used to be allies, so maybe talking to him would be a good start?”

“Excellent.”

Purpled ducked his head respectfully before joining Fundy in fussing over Tubbo and Quackity. Tommy looked on anxiously, absently following Phil as he walked to the opposite side of the room. Tubbo would be fine, right? He wasn’t hurt, just… overwhelmed. Tommy swore he’d wake up to some good news.

Phil closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were pure black. Tommy hadn’t seen them like that often, but he knew what it meant—Phil was sending out a royal summons. He could reach out to any demon and request their presence. Dream had a history of ignoring them (so did Wilbur, but for very different reasons), but most demons obeyed them speedily. Punz was no exception.

He appeared in a cloud of black smoke—Phil’s magic, not his own. Tommy hadn’t seen Punz in years, as they didn’t often leave the Overworld since Purpled had been bound to their care, but they looked the same as he remembered. Punz was the Demon of Greed, and it showed. A thick gold chain hung around his neck, a diamond stud pierced one of his ears, and there was a certain glint to his eyes that never really went away. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and smiled crookedly.

“You called?”

“I did,” Phil confirmed. “I heard you spoke with Dream recently.”

“How did you-?” Punz’s eyes fell on Purpled. “Oh. Was wondering where he went.” The teenager glanced their way and waved—Punz waved back. “I’m guessing he told you, but just in case he didn’t, I’m not working with Dream anymore. That’s done.”

“Better be,” Tommy muttered.

A hint of unease passed across Punz’s expression. “I didn’t know how bad it was, Tommy. I would’ve cut him off sooner if I had.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Phil crossed his arms. “Just tell us what you talked about.”

“No disrespect, but I’d kind of like to know what’s going on over there first,” Punz said, indicating the small gaggle of humans on the other side of the large circular room.

Phil’s gaze hardened. “Talk first. Then I’ll explain.”

Punz sighed. “First of all, we hadn’t talked in years,” he established. “I knew he was still around but, y’know, I kinda told him to fuck off forever after the… incident.” Their gaze flickered toward Tommy before returning to Phil. “He came by uninvited. Told me he just wanted to chat. He was fucking giddy about it, which was kind of disturbing. He said he’d chosen someone—I didn’t know he meant he’d possessed someone—and that he thought it was time for things to change. He said he wanted to be friends again, but I told him to leave me alone. If I change my mind about that, I’m supposed to go find him at the Vault Mansion.” He put his hands up. “Which I’m not going to do.”

Phil raised an eyebrow. “The Vault Mansion?”

Tommy glanced between the two of them. “What’s that?”

“Dream had it built a while ago,” Punz told him. “He was trying to impress a human. It… didn’t work out very well.”

“Oh,” Tommy said. “Was it, y’know, that human?”

“Sure was,” Punz sighed. “He still haunts the place. Can’t move on. I go to say hi every now and then.”

“I’m surprised Dream would go there again,” Phil said.

“Me, too.” Punz tugged on the strings of his hoodie absently. “As far as I know, he’s been hanging out at the Badlands for years. But he did say it was time for a change.”

Tommy shook his head nervously. “This feels like a bad change.”

“I mean, you’re obviously here to smite him,” Punz said, pointing to Phil. “So, yeah. If you want to know where to find him so that you can send his sorry ass to the End, I’d check the Vault Mansion.”

“We have to go,” Tommy said. “The longer we wait-”

He cut himself off as a warm feeling began to pull on his heart. Oh. Great timing, Mum.

“Tommy?” Phil asked.

“Mumza’s calling me,” he explained. “I can’t leave right now, though, I-”

“Listen to your mother,” Phil told him.

“But-”

“I’ll bring you back to the Overworld when she’s done with you,” he said. “Promise. I know how important this all is to you. Now, go.”

Tommy sighed. “Fine.”

He leaned into the magic calling him. The world faded away and the warmth in his heart swelled—Kristin’s call was like a gentle hug and being tucked into bed and a mother’s love. These particular summons came from her longing to have him home; Tommy could feel it.

He arrived just outside the palace walls in hell. It was a veritable fortress, enormous walls enchanted with ancient magic stretching upward. It was impossible to teleport inside for any reason. Kristin’s summons couldn’t take him right to her—the palace entrance was as close as it could get him. Tommy took a step forward.

“Tommy!”

He spun around, squinting into the distance to see a figure clumsily making his way over the red ground. “Wh- Quackity?”

“You wouldn’t happen to have seen Karl and Sapnap around here anywhere, have you?” he asked. “Being dead sucks.”

“No, I’m here to see Kristin. She called me.” Tommy watched as Quackity carefully hopped over some magma to reach the palace entrance. “I’m sure she could get Karl and Sapnap for you.”

“Talk to Kristin?” Quackity laughed nervously. “Just stroll into her house?”

“You’ve met before, haven’t you?”

“Once,” Quackity said. “Once.”

“O-kay,” Tommy muttered. “Well, now you can meet her twice.”

Quackity stared up at the palace and sighed. “Y’know what? I’m already here. Let’s go.”

Tommy led the way inside. Quackity trailed behind him, walking slowly. Tommy’s tail flicked with irritation.

“We’re in a bit of a hurry,” he said pointedly.

“Right.” Quackity jogged to catch up, his eyes roaming as he took in the extravagant halls. “What exactly happened after I, uh, died?”

“Phil got Ranboo and Dream separated, but he teleported away with him,” Tommy said. “And you scared the shit out of Tubbo.”

“Oh, fuck, he saw me die,” Quackity realized with horror. “Fuck.”

“He was really upset.” Tommy glanced sideways at him. “More upset than I thought he’d be, given that you’ve, y’know, lied to him his whole life.” Quackity winced. “What the fuck, man?”

“I didn’t want to,” he insisted. “Schlatt swore he’d explain it to him eventually, but then shit went sideways, and… I just didn’t want to make things worse for Tubbo. I was going to tell him. But I thought he just deserved to live for a little while after what he went through—to not have to worry about anything.”

“He’s important to you.”

“Yeah.”

Then act like it. “Hurt him and I’ll send you on another little trip to hell,” Tommy threatened, halfway serious.

Quackity chuckled and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Tommy straightened his posture as they approached the throne room. The black double doors were carved in detail with dozens of images honoring the royal family: Phil and Kristin’s wedding, Techno guiding an army to victory, Wilbur choosing Fundy… Tommy was there, too, extending a hand to Dream to show him mercy. In light of recent events, he no longer looked like a just and kind prince, but an idiot that didn’t realize Dream would only hurt more people.

They’d been friends.

Or, at least, Tommy had thought so. He was pretty sure now that Dream had seen him as more of a possession.

Tommy gritted his teeth, turning away from the image. They’d have to get that redone after this was all over. For now, he pushed the doors open.

Kristin was pacing the room, plucking petals from a wither rose. She looked up when the doors opened and raced over. Tommy didn’t object as she wrapped him in a hug.

“Are you okay?” she asked gently.

“I’m fine, Mum.”

She placed a hand on his cheek. “You worried me when you summoned Phil. What happened?”

“Dream. He possessed a mortal and attacked me.” Tommy jabbed a thumb in Quackity’s direction. “Killed him, too.”

Kristin turned her gaze on the human. “Hello again, Quackity.”

He bowed slightly. “Sorry to bother you.”

Kristin laughed lightly and waved a dismissive hand in his direction. “It’s fine. I imagine you’re looking for your demons?”

“I was wondering if you could find them for me?”

“Of course. I’m sure they’re looking for you, too.” There was a pause as Kristin worked her magic before offering him a smile. “They should be right outside.”

“Thank you. I-”

Quackity opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no words came out. Kristin raised an eyebrow.

“Something else you’d like to ask?”

Quackity made a face, like he couldn’t decide if he’d wanted her to call him out or not. “Oh, fuck it, might as well say this while you can’t kill me for it.” He took a deep breath. “I’m in love with Karl and Sapnap and we want to get married.”

The words came out in a rush and Tommy laughed out loud. He knew that the two demons were sweet on their chosen and got the impression that they were in love, but he hadn’t known they wanted to get married. Kristin’s eyes lit up in amusement.

“Married?” she repeated.

He nodded quickly. “We’ve kind of been engaged for a couple centuries? And I know it’s never been done before, that’s why they said I should ask you, but-”

“Quackity,” Kristin interrupted. “No demon had ever married a fallen angel, either.” Quackity shut his mouth with a loud clack. “Do you love them?”

“Yes,” he said breathlessly, without a second’s hesitation. “Yes.”

Kristin smiled. “Then you should marry them.”

Tommy didn’t think that grin was ever coming off Quackity’s face as he raced back to the entrance of the palace. “Thank you!”

Kristin waved fondly as he left. “He has a good heart, that one.” She nudged him affectionately. “So do you.”

“Oh, c’mon!” Tommy blushed furiously. “I’m Chaos, Mum, I’m chaotic, I have a reputation to uphold-!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she laughed. “How has the Overworld been?”

“Besides the Dream bit? Great.”

“I’m glad,” she told him. “I just had to make sure you were okay, Tommy. The way Phil looked at me when you summoned him…”

“I scared you, I get it,” Tommy said. “But I’ll be fine, and I need to go back to the Overworld. I-I made friends there. Well, one friend—or, one and a half, I guess—but that’s not the point!” he exclaimed. “I have to help them.”

“Stick with Phil. Stay safe.”

Tommy grinned cheekily. “When am I not?”

“Well, Tommy Danger Kraken-”

“I know, I know!” Tommy assured her. “I’ll be safe. Promise.”

“And what do we say if Dream tries anything?”

“Fuck off.”

“Exactly.” Kristin kissed him on the forehead. “See you soon, Tommy.”

Phil’s magic called him back to the Overworld, and Tommy let it take him. He had friends to save.

Chapter Text

Ranboo woke up on a couch. It was a pretty gross couch, if he was being honest, all motheaten and dusty with a chunk taken out of one of the arms that he decided not to question. He wasn’t sure if his headache was from the smell of it or whatever he’d just been through. The past few hours were sort of a blur—he couldn’t make much sense of his memories, but he had them. He remembered Dream and that he’d done something, though he couldn’t exactly tell what that something was.

He was less concerned with that and more concerned with the fact that the demon himself was irritably pacing not too far in front of him.

Ranboo’s movement didn’t go unnoticed. Dream spun toward him, his eerie mask staring into his soul. Ranboo froze like a deer in headlights, terrified that he’d pounce if he moved a muscle.

“Ranboo.” Dream sounded… relieved? “You’re awake!”

“What happened?” He looked around for anything he could use as an improvised weapon and found that besides the couch and a fireplace, the room held nothing but dust bunnies and a chain that looked far too heavy for him to lift. “Where am I?”

“It’s alright, it’s okay.” Dream stepped forward and Ranboo instinctively scooted backward. “Philza hurt our bond, but I’ll find a way to fix it.”

“You- you possessed me,” he realized. “Get away from me.”

“Be nice, Ranboo,” he scolded, a dangerous edge to his voice. “You don’t want to die, do you? I’m doing this for you.”

“I can handle myself-”

Ranboo tried to stand up and promptly fell backward, slamming into the couch hard enough that it caved in and sent him sprawling onto the floor. He groaned, the fall doing nothing to help his headache.

“Now look what you’ve done,” Dream sighed, scooping him up. “I’ll have to find somewhere else for you.”

Ranboo struggled, but found the demon’s grip to be impossible to escape. “Let me go!”
“Oh, Ranboo,” Dream laughed. “I’m never letting go of you again.”

He carried him over to the chain in the corner, which Ranboo learned was a shackle when Dream clamped it around his ankle. Each link of the chain was far thicker than necessary, like it was made for holding something more like a small boat than a human in place. Ranboo couldn’t even stand up with the weight of it dragging him down.

“You stay put,” Dream said. “I’ll be back for you soon—if you behave, I’ll find you another couch.”

“What do you want from me?” Ranboo demanded, opting to shout so that he didn’t cry.

Dream patted him on the head like a dog. “I just want you. Remember, Ranboo? You’re mine.”

He shook his head. “I don’t remember,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t remember anything about what you did to me, and apparently, I don’t want to.”

“Hmm,” Dream murmured. “I did try to find those memories when I was in your head, you know. I thought you deserved to have them back, but they’re gone.”

“Good. I don’t want them back,” Ranboo insisted. “I gave them up for a reason.”

“You gave them up because you were a coward,” Dream said coldly. “I offered you the world and you didn’t know how to take it, so you ran away from me.” He tilted his head to the side. “You trusted me, once.”

The idea was absurd. Trusting the demon that had kidnapped him? Possessed him? It was possible, though. Ranboo could see it. He could imagine himself young and alone, desperate for safety, and believing that Dream could provide that for him. The fact that he had trusted the demon at some point in his life and had still decided to delete every trace of him from his brain was… commendable, in a way. Ranboo couldn’t remember what had happened, but he was proud of his fifteen-year-old self. He was strong. Ranboo raised his chin defiantly—he was not the same boy that fell for Dream’s honeyed lies. He wasn’t even the same boy that had the courage to betray a demon and do everything he could to remove him from his life. He was Ranboo with a second chance, who would not make the same mistakes that led him to that point in the first place.

“And I never will again.”

Dream stared at him, his rage silently pulsing through the air. “We’ll just have to see about that.”

The demon departed into thin air, leaving behind a cloud of green smoke. Ranboo took a deep breath, relieved that he was gone, but it didn’t last. He needed to get out. The door to the room was broken and wide open, but Ranboo could barely scoot closer to it. He craned his neck to look out the door as far as he could, searching for any sign of something that could help him, and his stomach dropped as he recognized the hallway.

He was in the Vault Mansion. Not too many days ago, he’d been laughing and dragging Tubbo down that hall. Now he was chained up and alone. If Dream liked to hang around, it was no wonder that Casper had told them to get going so suddenly.

Casper! Ranboo didn’t have a clue how helpful the ghost would be, but he was desperate enough to find out. He choked back a sob—he couldn’t cry, he didn’t know when he’d last taken his meds and he was uncomfortable enough as it was already. Tears streaking down his face was the last thing he needed.

“Help!” Ranboo shouted, voice cracking. “Casper, anyone, please, help me!” The mansion answered with silence. “Help!”

A slight chill settled in the air. Ranboo shut his mouth as a cool breeze rushed at him from nowhere, hoping and pleading with any higher being who would listen that whatever entity had decided to approach him was at the very least not malicious.

The ghost materialized all at once. A man with brown eyes and a bloodied T-shirt suddenly stared back at Ranboo, who hardly dared to breathe.

“Casper?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” the ghost said with his lips quirked upward into a slight smile. “Well, my name is George, actually, but Casper was a funny nickname.”

“Wait, George?” Ranboo repeated. “As in-?”

“Yes, as in the George that fell onto the fence from a third story window,” he said. “A lot of ghost hunters have been here over the years, I know the stories.”

“Did you fall? Were you pushed? What happened?” Ranboo couldn’t help but ask. “No one ever figured it out.”

“And no one ever will.” George sat down cross-legged in front of him. “It’s not as simple as everyone thinks.”

“Explain it to me.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Oh.” Ranboo fixed his eyes on the floor. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” George shrugged. “We need to figure out how to get you out of here.”

“I don’t even know how I got here,” Ranboo said. “I just woke up on the couch.”

George raised his eyebrows and pointed to the mess of the now-broken couch. “That one?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks like you had a pleasant waking up,” he muttered sarcastically. “I saw Dream bring you in. Sorry about not helping earlier, he can always tell when I’m around. And he doesn’t, uh-” George cleared his throat. “He doesn’t exactly deal with that well. Comes here all the time trying to see me.”

Ranboo tilted his head to the side. “You two have a history, then?”

“Yeah.” George pulled his knees up to his chest, hiding the wound there. “The kind of history that makes me really nervous about him bringing you here.”

“Did he possess you, too?”

George’s eyes went wide. “Dream possessed you?”

“Pretty sure, yeah.” Ranboo shuddered just thinking about it, hitting some sort of wall in his mind that his fuzzy memories hid behind. “I can’t remember what happened, exactly? But I think I’m better now.” He laughed bitterly, indicating the chain around his ankle. “Well, not better better, but… he’s not in my head anymore.”

Anger flashed in George’s brown eyes before it settled into something more like guilt. “That never should’ve happened to you. I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing you could’ve done,” Ranboo told him.

“Maybe not,” he sighed. “Let’s just try to get you out of here.”

Ranboo rattled his chain. “Any bright ideas?”

“Well, I can’t interact with the physical world, so not really.” George swiped his hand right through the floor as a demonstration. “I do know something that might work, though.” He glanced at the fireplace. “Do you think you can get over there?”

Ranboo pursed his lips—the fireplace was closer than the door, but it would still take effort to get to. “I can try?” He scooted toward it experimentally, trying not to break his ankle in the process and barely going anywhere. “Why?”

George smiled at him nervously. “You’re going to summon a demon.”

“What?”

“The only thing that can help you escape a demon is another one,” he insisted. “I can walk you through the basic ritual—whatever demon you need will show up. Okay?”

Ranboo hesitated. Summoning a demon sounded like a bad idea, but… Tommy hadn’t turned out too bad for Tubbo. While he was sure his friends were looking for him, he couldn’t be certain they knew where to find him, or that they would within the next month. Ranboo needed to get himself out of this, and if getting a demon on his side was the only way to do it, then… well. He had to do it.

“Okay,” he agreed. “Tell me what to do.”

“All right, okay, first you need to get to the fireplace,” George told him as he continued to slowly and miserably inch closer. “That old wood in it should catch fire with the slightest spark, which is good, since we’re probably only going to be able to get the slightest spark with what we’ve got. You’ll need to burn something—a sacrifice.”

Ranboo couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Like a grilled cheese?”

George raised an eyebrow. “Do you have one of those on you?”

“No,” he muttered. “I, uh, I should have an EMF reader in my pocket? Hang on.” Sure enough, the reader was still in the pocket of his jeans. “There we go.” He briefly clicked it on, curious, and it shot straight up to a five; he turned it off quickly. “Will this work?”

“Would you rather not burn it?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Then it should work.” George sat down by the fireplace. “You just have to get over here.”

“Easier said than done,” Ranboo hissed.

The fireplace was really not that far away. The chain attached to his foot made it feel otherwise—it might as well have been across the world, but his alternative was being a sitting duck when Dream got back, so Ranboo gave it everything he had. It was almost within reach. One more big push would do it.

The good news about the big push was that Ranboo made it to the fireplace.

The bad news was that something in his ankle snapped.

He yelped in pain and immediately flopped to the floor. George fussed over him with intangible hands, unable to actually help.

“Are you okay?” the ghost asked frantically. “What happened, what hurts?”

Ranboo groaned. “I think I broke my ankle.”

“Your ankle?”

“I pulled too hard on my chain.” Ranboo gritted his teeth and stubbornly propped himself on his elbows. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“But-”

“Neither of us can do anything about my ankle right now.” He tossed the EMF reader onto the dusty, grayish wood in the fireplace. “Now what?”

George looked hesitant, but he continued his instructions. “See that little black rock on the bricks?” Ranboo picked it up. “You’re going to strike that against the bricks and that should make a spark. When your sacrifice starts to burn, you’re going to say three words: percute subscribe puga.”

Ranboo raised an eyebrow. “What is that, Latin?”

“Sure is,” George said. “But you’ve got to say it right, okay? You remember it?”

“Yeah.” Ranboo took a deep breath. “And then?”

“Then the demon you’re looking for will show up.”

He fidgeted nervously with the rock in his hand. “And which demon am I looking for, exactly?”

George shrugged. “That’s not for me or you to say. You’ll get who you need.”

“Right.” Ranboo took a deep breath. “That’s it, huh? Light something on fire, say a few funny words, and you’ve got yourself a demon. All the books make it sound a lot harder.”

“All the book you’re reading are stupid.”

“Apparently.” Ranboo winced as the pain in his ankle flared when he sat up straighter. “Ready?”

George backed up a little, which did nothing to inspire his confidence. “Ready.”

Ranboo struck his rock against the fireplace, as close as he dared to the pile of wood in the center. Nothing happened the first time, so he did it again, and again, and again, as fast as he could. Finally, a tiny spark jumped out, landing on the tinder. Ranboo scuttled backward slightly as the flame began to grow rapidly. Within ten seconds, it managed to reach his EMF reader. That was his cue.

“Percute subscribe puga.”

Briefly, the EMF reader turned on, crackling and glowing aggressively at level five as if it couldn’t go high enough. Then there was a pop, and the fire vanished completely, taking Ranboo’s sacrifice with it. A tall demon appeared out of nowhere and waved away the haze of gray smoke that had spewed out of the fireplace during the ritual—he was striking in every sense of the word, with red eyes that glinted behind a pig skull mask and a bright pink braid. Everything from the buttons on his shirt to the clasp on his cape to the crown atop his head was made of gold. Ranboo had seen many a description of a demon like this, but surely he hadn’t summoned that demon, right?

He looked down at Ranboo and blinked curiously.

“Hullo.”

“Hi,” he croaked, trying not to tremble under the demon’s gaze—there was a weight to it that Ranboo had never felt before.

George laughed in disbelief. “You’re not exactly who I had in mind.”

The demon seemed to do a double take at his presence, but he nodded a greeting to the ghost. “What’s happenin’ here?”

“Dream,” George muttered darkly. “We—well, Ranboo, really—could use some help.” He cleared his throat. “Ranboo, meet Techno: Prince of Hell and Demon of War.”

Ah. So it was that demon.

“War?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” Techno huffed. “You must need some serious help if you summoned me.”

Ranboo swallowed anxiously. “I just need to get out of here. Please. I-I’ll give you a favor later, please, just-” Techno pulled out a massive sword, and even though he knew it probably wasn’t for him, Ranboo couldn’t help but flinch backward. “Please-!”

“Hey, hey, you’re all right, kid,” Techno assured him. “If you’re gonna get out of here, you’re gonna need that chain off your ankle.”

Without warning, he brought the sword down frighteningly close to Ranboo’s foot, cutting off all but the cuff and half a link of the chain—which was great, except he still had a very broken ankle.

“I can’t walk,” he admitted.

Techno put the sword away and shrugged. “No problem.”

He reached down and scooped Ranboo up like a sack of potatoes. No, not even a sack—more like a singular potato. Techno held him in one arm as easily as he would probably hold a potato, which was impressive, considering his height.

“Right. Let’s get you out of here, yeah? George, you mind-” Techno turned the ghost, but cut off. “Huh. Guess we’re finding our way out of here on our own.”

Ranboo craned his neck and found that George had vanished. “Why would he-?”

“Well, this is a surprise.”

Dream.

The demon had reappeared, leaning against the doorframe. Techno moved into a protective stance.

“Thought you were done kidnapping humans, Dream,” he said levely.

“Techno. Leave.”

“See, since this guy hasn’t given me a favor yet, I actually can’t,” he sighed. “I’m gonna need you to step out of the way.”

Dream took a step forward, and Ranboo leaned further against Techno. “He’s mine,” Dream hissed.

“Oh?” Techno looked down at him and raised an eyebrow behind his mask. “Are you his?”

“No,” he said quickly.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He gently began to set Ranboo down. “Hang tight, kid, I’ve gotta take care of this guy first.”

Dream laughed. “You really want to fight me?”

Techno’s red eyes began to glow. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you did to Tommy.”

“He forgave me.”

The energy in the room changed. Ranboo could feel his heartbeat in his ears, pounding like a drum as the tension rose.

“Yeah.” Techno drew his sword. “But I didn’t.”

“Fine.” A wickedly sharp axe materialized in Dream’s hands. “We’ll do things the hard way.”