Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The little salamander smiled, shifting again into a form that would make him that much more inconspicuous. 

“C’mon, let’s go!” He called into the night sky, and another figure landed beside him, another young-looking teenager, to any other person on the street. Both golden-haired young men, they were most likely causing trouble and hanging out on roofs like any other teenage boy.

Funny, how wrong first impressions are, right?

“Shut it,” The other responded, a grin plastered on sharp features despite his venomous words. “We’ve gotta get home!” 

The salamander rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he laughed. The pixie would never change, he supposed. He wasn’t wrong though, the duo truly did need to return home. Bending over, he stretched his long legs, and the pixie laughed at how his long, amphibious tail stretched out with him.

“You look so strange, Toms!” The pixie laughed, and Tommy glared up at him. The pixie’s own magenta eyes met his, sparkling with the mischief they both enjoy so much.

“I resent you,” Tommy informed him, red tail reaching out to slap the boy in the back of his head, only a little power behind it. Purpled laughed, violet-tinted hands slapping his tail away with a small clap. 

They began to run away, sunrise just on the horizon as they made their way back to their little cottage in the forest, the soft waters of the stream glowing orange as they dashed past it. 

Purpled’s elongated features began fading, glow-in-the-dark skin dying back into the (semi) normal flesh tone it is during the day and under the light, usually. 

“C’mon, Purps, let’s watch the sunrise!” Tommy called, shaking off the water from his quick dip in the stream. His tail was shimmering, water absorbing into the supple scales as he jumped out from the rocky waters. Purpled smiled, he enjoyed seeing his friend happy.

Purpled stretched out his own limbs, though he didn’t have the extra appendages Tommy had to boot to stretch with him. Shrinking himself down far enough for his tiny insectile wings to spread out from his shoulder blades, he made his own way up to the roof of their little home. 

The ivy from the garden had started to brown again, the long vines that had made their way up to the roof starting to crisp from many hours of sunlight they received in their little break in the trees. Purpled let out a humorless snort, Guess I know what I’m going to be doing tomorrow.  

Unlike Tommy, a flame spirit, Purpled was a nature ‘nymph’ as the higher-ups used to call them. His powers (which Purpled thought were annoying) only allowed him to groom and grow plants, and a single power specific only to himself, as well. As he sat there on the roof, he shifted back to his usual form, that of an average-heighted, average-weighted, average L’Manburg citizen. Very average looking.

Speaking of Tommy, the salamander had made his way up onto the roof at this point, fully shifted into his own small caecilian form. Red and dark crimson spotted scales looked like they themselves were on fire in the early morning light, and knowing Tommy, they absolutely could be. 

A small beep escaped Tommy’s mouth as he watched the sunrise in pure awe, and as a fellow spirit, Purpled could relate. He got this excited feeling when he saw a new sapling, or a seed barely sprouting, just like Tommy did when he saw the sun in its full glory. 

Tommy shifted back into his semi-average form, long tail wrapping around Purpled’s leg as they sat there, admiring the light. 

“Purpled,” Tommy started, eyes still fixed on the crimson rising on the horizon. Purpled turned, fixing his own gaze on the side of his friend’s face, observing the way the red freckles (scales) on his face flowed where they came into contact with the sun. He nodded, prompting Tommy to continue. 

“I heard a bunch of humans talking ‘bout how they’re celebrating this h-ho-holi-” Purpled cut him off, gently correcting him.

“Holiday?” Tommy nodded, continuing. 

“This holiday, and I was wondering if you’d be okay with us doin’ it,” He almost muttered, and that was strange for Tommy. In the ten years Purpled had known Tommy, the boy almost never dropped his personality, let alone muttered to the other boy. It broke the colorfully named boy’s heart to hear that Tommy still thought he had to ask for permission.

“What is it, Toms?” Purpled asked, trying to insert as much mortal ‘empathy’ as he could into his words. Emotions weren’t. . .well, they weren’t a strong suit for the boy for many reasons, none of which he particularly wanted to talk about. 

“They said it was some sort of “costume” thing, whatever that means, but it sounded fun, I guess,” The air quotes he added with his soft-skinned fingers really added an air or childishness to his words. Purpled thought it fit.

“Sounds cool, I’m in!” He responded, and this time, even Tommy could hear the forced excitement in his voice. His judgemental look was all Purpled needed to immediately spit a little wad of tree sap saliva at the boy.

“ACK. Purpled, what the fuck, man?” Tommy screeched indignantly. Purpled snickered, and Tommy’s offended look only grew larger as the teen laughed louder.

“You absolute fucker!” He yelled, staring up now. “I’m gonna burn you to a crisp, bitch!” Tail wagging aggressively behind him, and an evil grin fixed on his face, Purpled knew he meant business.

“Stay the fuck away from me you little rat!” Purpled screeched, and Tommy noted the girlish giggle that left his best friend’s mouth as he started to shift back again. Wings spreading out behind him as he became the length of a chicken-feather quill, Purpled stuck his tongue out at the salamander as he propelled himself off the roof.

Tommy grinned ferally, sharp teeth now blatantly evident in between his canines. His own body began to shift, shrinking in size as well until he was just the size of a usual salamander. But, there was one thing he had never told Purpled, specifically for this reason. What about the real reason?

Out of Tommy’s tiny shoulder blades, a pair of sharp, angular wings emerged from his moistened skin, and he propelled himself off the ground with at least triple the force of Purpled’s own impromptu flight. 

Small gurgling noises that both parties knew instinctively were giggles rang out from Tommy’s mouth, chasing the smaller pixie as he gently breathed small fireballs all him. Purpled gaped in surprise, obviously unaware that Tommy could do any of this at all. 

Eventually, they both tired of the games, and settled down on the rocking chairs on their front porch. Both panting, Tommy was still coughing a tad bit of bright orange flames as he exhaled, scaring Purpled even further, as they lived in a wooden house. Tommy locked eyes with the teen, flashing him with his bright white teeth once more.

“Why. . . The fuck. . .didn’t you tell me. . .you were a . . .fucking. . .dragon,” Purpled eventually gasped out, lungs clearly tired from the long chase of cat-and-mouse, or more accurately, pixie-and-dragon. Tommy’s smile drooped a little, eyes darkening just enough that Purpled could barely notice. He went to tell Tommy, ‘oh nevermind, I get it, it’s trauma,’, but he never got the chance as Tommy explained.

“I wasn’t initially,” Tommy told him, meeting the magenta eyes with his own glowing blue. “I used to just be a flame spirit, you know?” Purpled did know. Both boys had. . .not fun childhoods to say the least, but Tommy’s was arguably much worse.

“They tested the dragon-breath/golden apple shit on me, and it apparently fucked with my genes, ressorted my genes around so that my oldest ones were in front.” Purpled nodded, allowing the boy to get it all of his chest before he even attempted to step in. “Apparently, I’m a second-generation dragon, specifically from the End. Sick right?” Tommy’s smile was back, not quite full, but almost, and that was good enough for Purpled. 

“Hell yeah, man!” He exclaimed, faux-excitement less evident in his voice this time for fear of another chase. With Tommy’s endless energy, it was highly plausible that he’d be up for such a thing. “Being a dragon is fucking sick, and honestly, I feel like you would’ve unlocked that shit with or without those fuckers,” He added, in an attempt to cheer up the boy.

It worked, luckily, and Tommy’s smile (and eyes) were back to being as bright as can be once again. Tommy really liked that Purpled could do that for him. He truly was an amazing best friend brother . 

That night, dreams nightmares haunted Tommy again, just like they do every time he puts too much thought into. . .how he’s here right now. Memories of a cold white, the blazing heat of recess, the tests, the doctor. It was all too much for him to deal with during the day, so he always pushed it back until nightfall. 

At least now, the (traumatized) teenager had something genuinely exciting to look forward to. Back when he was just a little kid, he could vaguely remember shifting into different skins and participating in the citizen’s holidays, and from what he could recall that stuff was messing with his head again , it was a really fun time.

Purpled had never been one for crowds, as a result of his unfortunate upbringing, but in the past few months, he’s been joining Tommy more often in his excursions to the market. Once, he even met (and talked to?! holy shit Purpled!) Tommy’s friend, a tall, lanky motherfucker who was weirdly obsessed with his instrument.

Wilbur was a good guy, and he was fairly chill with Purpled too (if he wasn’t he probably wouldn’t have legs). Tommy had met him one day while trying to exchange his netherite for the golden coins the L’Manburg citizens used for currency, and immediately was disappointed in his lack-luster attempt at flirting with the accountant. 

A cross-eyed, but rather beautiful woman, she’d captured Wilbur’s attention quickly. Tommy remembers vividly how hard he had cackled when she had told him she had a girlfriend, the man looked like someone had told him his little brother had been shot. 

When he came home that night, him and Purpled had had a field day discussing all the lovely alternate ways she could have told him she was a lesbian. That was. . .an unfortunately common discussion in their household, Tommy realized. Because lesbians are fucking amazing, his mind provided.

Now, Tommy had to focus on actually going to bed, staying up this late again was certainly not good for him. But you don’t care, do you? Sometimes Tommy hated his impromptu thoughts, they were most definitely the things that kept him up at night, not his healings of memories, no sir.

Ten days have passed since Tommy first told Purpled about the holiday, and it was coming up soon. This morning, he had tried to get the boy to agree to go with him to the market, but he was fucking stubborn when he wanted to be. A long, hearty sigh escaped his lips, warming his face in the quickly chilling air of the autumn morning.

He thoroughly enjoyed visiting the market, people passing by, listening in to juicy bits of gossip you’ll never hear the end to. He always liked to stop by the bakery, too, but he didn’t have time for that today. His first stop was the town square, a place that he knew he’d find information about this holiday at. 

Posters were plastered on every flat vertical surface within thirty feet of Tommy, to the point where he could barely read one of them, let alone all of them. Stupid fucking humans and their stupid fucking human shit, he thought, mind clean and fresh as always.

He was able, however, to find a single poster he could actually read. 

Halloween Bash! Next week, October 31st!

• Children, bring costumes! Adults can dress up too, everyone’s welcome

• Adults, it’s your duty to bring the candy!

• From noon to sundown, it’s the L’Manburg annual Halloween party!

As annoyingly excited as that poster read, it was useful information, Tommy understood that. 

Well he had already done what he’d come here to do, so he supposed he might as well make his way back to-

What was that?

Who the fuck was following him?

Tommy didn’t whip his head around, he had enough practice with. . .sketchy people that he knew the best way to handle it is to keep walking, then wait until they make the first move. The person was clearly trying to hide their presence (as shit a job as they were doing), so Tommy just kept going. 

Obviously, he wasn’t going to lead whoever the fuck this was back to his home . . . Purpled doesn’t like guests, obviously. 

This was going to be such a pain in the-

“Hey, child,” a grumbly voice called out from behind Tommy. He. . .did not think things would go this way. 

“Not a child, number one,” Tommy replied, most likely (definitely) focusing on the wrong thing, finally turning around to meet his ‘follower’ as he’s taken to calling them in his head. “Number two, what the hell man? Why’re you followin’ me?” 

The man had the absolute audacity to fucking chuckle at that, his deep voice coming through his laugh as well. The man then cleared his throat, and started talking.

“Well, Tommy, as Wilbur’s called ya, my name’s Technoblade.” The man-Technoblade introduced himself. Tommy was beginning to remember Wilbur mentioning a person that vaguely resembled the man in front of him when they went out for tea and biscuits, but that was a ridiculously long time ago. 

“Wilbur’s a bitch,” Tommy informed Technoblade, receiving a look of absolute surprise. The man then folded in half, holding his stomach as he cackled with laughter, and Tommy smiled at how effectively he made the man laugh. “Couldn’t even tell me who you were, mate, what an arsehole,” Technoblade looked like he was in serious danger if he didn’t stop laughing. “Wilbur, he knows me well enough to advertise me to others? Prick, absolute prick, that one is,”

Tommy was grinning, on the verge of laughter himself as he informed Technoblade about his bald friend.

“Oh my dear lords,” Technoblade finally managed to wheeze out. “Dad’s gonna laugh so hard when I tell ‘im Wil’s child friend think of him like this,” At this, Tommy furrowed his brows, confusion settling on his child-like face. Why would Technoblade’s dad care about Wilbur? 

“Oh, yeah, by the way, Wilbur brags to us all the time about you, Tommy,” Technoblade informed him, standing up straight again. “I’m guessing he didn’t tell you about us, so I guess I’ll have to,” Tommy nodded, genuinely curious about what the man had to tell him.

“Uh, hello, I’m Technoblade, but you can call me Techno,” he started, booming voice quieting down to something much more awkward. Tommy guessed not everyone could be great at social interaction like he was (read: Tommy usually has no idea what the fuck he’s doing but other people find it funny for whatever reason). “I’m Wilbur’s twin, the elder one, and our dad is Philza.” Tommy gaped at that, Wilbur had never told him he had a brother let alone a twin brother.  

He had no idea who the fuck ‘Philza’ was though, but Technoblade seemed to think his reaction was based around the fact that he did, because he continued talking about him immediately after.

“Yeah, I know, kinda rare to meet someone who knows Phil personally, let alone his son.” Techno looked like a stick had just been jammed up his ass with how proud of himself he looked right then. 

“I have no idea who the fuck ‘Philza’ is, and I don’t really care, either.” Tommy informed him, blunt as ever. Techno’s eyes flared, clearly surprised. 

“Kid, do you live under a rock?” He deadpanned, monotone voice only increasing the indignity forming in Tommy. He glared at the man, crossing his arms like a chi- a big ,an would as he replied snappily.

“What the fuck, man?! I don’t live under a rock, you absolute piece of shit!” Techno smiled, a sneer in his eyes.

“Wilbur was right about you, you really are a child,” a funny one, at that, was left unsaid as Techno leaned against the alley wall, looking down on Tommy menacingly. At that, Tommy went to leave, not even dignifying this injustice with a response. 

“Hey, Wilbur wanted me to invite you to our. . .home on Halloween,” Techno added as Tommy went to jump over the wall, which, surprisingly enough, didn’t seem to startle Technoblade. Tommy whipped around, curiosity replacing the rage on his face.

“Can I bring my brother?” He asked, eye contact threatening to rip him apart. Technoblade nodded, turning to leave the way he came. 

“Wilbur will bring you the invitation, just try to meet up with him at the bakery tomorrow, alright?” Tommy nodded. “He’s goin’ there around noon, I think.” 

At that, Tommy jumped the wall, running back home to inform Purpled of the new information. Technoblade, unbeknownst to Tommy, watched him leave with silent awe on his face, dumbfounded by the sheer height of the teen’s jump.

Okay, so like, he’s very clearly not human, right chat? Techno thought, querying the voices that lived in his head (rent-free, too, those fuckers).

I don’t know

E

Maybe

/rainbowchat 

Blood? I’m not hearing enough calls for blood here guys

Technoblade finally speaks to us? The peasants? Incredible

E

E

message deleted by moderator

Shhhhh shut up your ruining the foreshadowing 

Maybe

We don’t know ;)

 That was unhelpful.

Screw you

Technoblade despises his life. Guess he’ll have to figure this out by himself. Sometimes chat was really helpful, providing insight, and other helpful ideas. And sometimes they had the idea that Wil had, and that was terrible enough on its own.

Well, now Technoblade had to deal with a child, so that’ll be fun.

But you love Halloween, Technoblade :)

He’d love it more if chat would shut the fuck up.

Chapter Text

Drista had always loved to fuck with mortals. They always ran in fear at the seemingly cute ‘little’ (she looked about fourteen, nowadays) girl when she bared her six-inch long fangs. Quite amusing, once you try it.

Her lime green eyes glinted as she dashed away from another burning building, a man screaming far too loudly about how a daemon had cursed him and all that shit , when in actuality, she just wanted to piss the fuck out of her king, Dream. She thought it was absolutely hilarious.

She shifts back to a more normal form, her crimson cloak settling on her back as her cropped hair grows out again, to a more traditional form you see in the Northern country. Her favorite bakery is just a little bit up the way, so she dashes, her riding boots clicking loudly against the cobblestone pavement.

Drista wasn’t the most adept reader of all time (read: the only language she did fully know was. . .well, deceased), but the sign on Niki’s bakery was interesting.

‘ Halloween Costume Celebration on the Night Of Daemons. Pay Respect to The Spirits by Showing them How Beautiful They Truly Are.’

She could fully burst out laughing at a sign like that, holy shit. Her spade-tipped tail came unwound from where it was lying on her upper thigh, dropping down below where her calf-length skirt hung. 

Walking out of the back rooms, Niki gave it little more than a look before she smiled and asked the daemon what she’d like to eat, free of charge. While Drista wasn’t entirely sure how she was running a business with so much free stuff being handed out, she appreciated it nonetheless.

“One strawberry scone with a side of chamomile tea, please,” She asked, picturing Tommy and Purpled laughing at her politeness. Niki appreciated it though, as she smiled, wrapping up the pastry delicately as she prepared the tea in the back. 

Drista took her seat at a small table near the window, admiring the beautiful view from the bakery window. This place was built from an old cathedral, so there were still many beautiful stained glass windows left behind.

Niki swiftly arrived, a small teacup in hand. Two cubes of sugar were carefully placed on Drista's napkin, and a small bottle of honey was placed where customers usually set down their beverages. Drista muttered a quiet ‘thank you,’ and Niki laughed, retreating back to the kitchen.

Her eyes drift back to the windows, where the sun begins to rise over the mountains on the horizon. Crimson stains the sky, and a bright smile stains her lips as she thinks of a boy whose tail is that exact color. She really should go visit Tommy.

Far away, a young man sneezed hard enough to ignite the pile of hay he was stacking into a bonfire, his best friend screeching at him as he struggled to douse the fire with tree sap. Tommy smiles as Purpled frantically runs about, deeply concerned about all the insurance and property taxes they’ll have to pay.

Now, Tommy is far too excited to contain his energy, the party that Wilbur and his brother Technoblade is that night . Tommy already knows exactly who he’s going to ‘dress’ as, too. Something in the back of his head tells him it might be a bit of a poor idea, dressing as the legendary Queen Jean, and all that, but she’s his mom, so it doesn’t really matter to him.

Purpled thinks it’s a terrible idea, so obviously he’s going to do it now. The fire gets put out eventually (Purpled’s usually crystal-clear wings are covered in ugly black soot, and his hands look like they have slight burns), and Purpled sighs, muttering an excuse to go wash up before they leave to go get Purpled a costume. 

“You know, we don’t actually have to go into town!” Purpled yells down from upstairs, Tommy pouring himself a final mug of tea before departing into town. “I could just steal a couple of your scales and shift myself like you’re doing,” His footsteps heavy on the stairs as he grumbles, making his way into the kitchen to meet the golden blonde. 

“Sorry, Purps, but we already know what you’re going to be!” Tommy says, with absolutely no hints of a squeal in his voice at all . Of course not, he’s a manly man, and manly men don’t squeal. Definitely. Purpled groans, but there’s a poorly-hidden smile creeping up his face. 

The two make their way into town, running so they make it there before literally every other towns person overcrowds the weaver’s stand and the tailor, people clearly as bad as Purpled at getting their costumes together. For his first year doing this Halloween thing, Tommy thinks he’s done a fairly good job. 

Purpled groans again, attracting the attention of a perfectly lovely young couple of women, the blue fading off their faces as they look the burned and bruised boy up and down. This, of course, causes Purpled to flush, burying his head in his charred sweater as Tommy cackles. 

“Deserved.” Is the only thing Tommy says, but it’s enough to piss off Purpled. They make their way to the weaving stand, looking the products over as they silently brainstormed what to make the colorfully named boy wear for his costume. Suddenly, Tommy snaps, an idea flowing into his head.

“Henry.” Tommy says, and Purpled’s eyes flare in what looks like distaste to Tommy. The latter signs, settling on his backup plan. “Fine, Clementine. And-before you cut me off with a dramatic special little snowflake sigh and/or groan-hear me out.” The golden blonde continues, his voice laced with mild disappointment at the annoyed reaction from the other. Purpled signs and nods however, so Tommy continues. “ Then , you absolute prick, you wouldn’t have to. . .uh, well then we can ‘make’ you a cool pair of fae-esque wings,” 

At that, Purpled seemed to think, his head nodding as his eyes dart back and forth. He eventually nods, little antennae poking out from underneath his locks, but Tommy catches them before anyone notices the boy’s pixie heritage. A thankful smile is shot his way, and Tommy runs over to the man running the stand, pointing to the fabric he needs. 

One quick trip to the tailor later, Purpled had a cute button up light gray shirt, made with the fluffiest fabric known to human-kind, pairing with a slightly darker fluffy trousers. Purpled let his antennae pop up as they usually would, the lavender fluffy stalks matching perfectly with his poofy outfit. 

A small, violet glow surrounded Purpled as he let go of the usual barriers preventing his wings coming out while in his human-sized form, taking comfort in the changing room. Admiring his costume in the mirror (and the perfect wing slits Tommy added), he covers his abnormal traits back up and steps out of the changing room, preparing to pay. He notices Tommy’s paying right then, so he takes the chance to change back into his regular clothes, his soft trousers feeling lovely against his tired legs. 

Tommy turns around, finishing paying, and notices the time on the wall posted with some sort of new device. He calls Purpled over, gesturing for him to get redressed, it’s almost time to head over to the party now anyways. The sun sets over the mountain scape, and 

Tommy’s colorful friend begins to glow his beautiful lavender color at the extremities, an urge to let his tail loose almost overwhelming the boy.

Oh well, him and Purpled have to travel what they like to call ‘the old-fashioned way’. It was probably the most inaccurate name they could have possibly given it. Ever. 

Tommy went into the changing room himself, Purpled using his own abilities to grow a couple mushrooms set to release melatonin -infused spores, lifting the shop owners into a peaceful land of sleep. Luckily, no one else was in the store, so they were free to do as they wished.

Purpled’s wings definitely could fly him over to Wilbur and Technoblade’s house if they needed to, but since Tommy was there, it was just silly to make him strain his wings. After a very short period of time in the changing room (mostly spent waiting for the spores to deteriorate), a small black and crimson dragon the size of a large stallion stepped out, black tail speckled with red freckles making a quiet slithering noise as it dragged across the floor. Purpled winced a little at the sound of the razor-sharp claws clinking on the floor, but quickly regained himself as he prepared for takeoff. 

The two of them walked outside, careful not to be seen as Purpled clambered on to the dragon’s back, careful to wrap his legs around the soft mid-torso area instead of the shoulder/wing area many people presume you’d ride a dragon on. Silly humans.

As they make the flight over to the address, Purpled points out to Tommy the absolutely massive building in the distance, a palace made of what seemed to be ice crystals or diamonds. Truly breathtaking, both boys gasped as they got closer, noting the party goers inside. 

“Uh, Tommy!” Purpled yelled over the sound of the wind, wings flapping loudly in his ears. “I think this is the place!” Tommy looks over his shoulder at him, small red sparks escaping his nostrils as if to tell him Well no fucking shit, bitch.  

Purpled scoffs dramatically, and Tommy lets out a low warble that they both know is a laugh, preparing for landing as he tucks his wings in closer to his body. Purpled’s grip on the (surprisingly so) soft back spines as they descend rapidly. 

Tommy makes a perfect landing behind the palace, landing in a courtyard no one else was in. Purpled brushes off his own costume, allowing his wings to grow to their usual size as they fall gently through the wing slits his best friend had carved, while Tommy’s entire appearance changes.

His blonde curls become long, black ones as they tie themselves in a delicate braid, a violet ribbon mixing through the elaborate knots as the change occurs. His crimson red tail shifts to one more similar to his true form’s tail, apart from the fact that the red speckles become purple and like little fireworks instead. 

Wings, far larger than his own, erupt from his shoulder blades, growing as he himself becomes about a foot taller, though his basic ‘human’ anatomy doesn’t change, not really. He’s not actually a female right now, he’s kept it semi-realistic enough (tell that to the two-foot black horns growing out of his head) so that it sort of looks like a costume, but he looks so much like his mother that it’s not really all that much of a costume. Purpled smiles as the transformation takes place, happy to see his friend so confident.

The two make their way over the main gates of the giant building, the clacking of Tommy’s heels matching with that of Purpled’s riding boots. Guards nod at them as Purpled flashes the envelope Wilbur had delivered at the last minute as evidence of attendance, and they eventually make their way into the throne room, overcrowded with a hundred guests.

Wait.

Throne. . .room?

What the actual fuck?

Purpled seemed to be having very similar thoughts as the two exchanged a glance, confusion written on their faces. Suddenly, a familiar man runs up to them, his brown curls pulled back to reveal his rounded ears with glowing green emeralds, matching the brilliant green speckles in his eyes. 

“Holy shit, Tommy are you Empress Jean?” Wilbur asks incredulously. Worry etches Tommy’ thoughts, concerned for the next words. “Fuck mate, you look incredible! How’d you get your skeleton fabric to glow purple like that? That’s some awesome fabric on the wings and tail too, fuck!” 

A sigh of relief escapes Tommy, Purpled smiling as he grinned with absolute pride. Wilbur gave him a big grin too, placing a hand on Tommy’s shoulder to lead him over to where Technoblade and a man Tommy assumed to be the pair’s father stood. 

Both men (and Wilbur, evidently) were wearing the most elaborate and well-designed royal costumes Tommy and Purpled had ever seen, right down to the beautiful (fake, right? they’re definitely fake.) rubies and emeralds embedded in their crowns. The father smiles at Tommy, acknowledging his ‘costume’ with a small gasp and a fascination written all over his face.

“Shit, mate, never thought I’d see anyone look-no, even choose to-look like Empress Jean,” The man tells Tommy, earning a small flush and a smile. Purpled pats Tommy on the back, right in between his wings, and he jumps a little, though the movement is only noticed by Technoblade. “I’m King Phil, by the way, but I’m sure you already knew that, from, well, my appearance.” The man chuckles, but stops when he notices Tommy and Purpled’s twin looks of confusion.

“Wilbur,” Technoblade starts, with a little bit of a teasing tone. “You never told your child friend?” Wilbur flushes a crimson almost as brilliant as the natural color of Tommy’s scales (nothing could ever compare to Tommy’s lovely scales), as he makes a noise of utter pain. Phil, too, stifles a laugh at his son’s pain, and Tommy and Purpled chuckle as well, if only to be polite.

“No, Technoblade , I did not.” He spits the word ‘Technoblade’ out with extra malice, only making the man in question laugh even harder. Wilbur turns to Tommy, reaching out a hand in what Tommy thinks is a handshake, but he’s really confused right now, so he’s not sure. He takes the hand anyways though, his soft silk gloves brushing against Wilbur’s own as they meet hands.

“Woah, your hands are warm!” Wilbur says, fondness evident in his voice as they let go of the handshake. “Oh, yeah, um, anyways, my name is Wilbur, as you know, but, um, it’s actually Prince Wilbur.” Tommy’s eyes flare, but he gets over it pretty fast.

“Okay,” Tommy says, and Purpled lets out a startled roar of laughter, Wilbur stuck in the most confused expression Tommy’s ever seen on a human being. “I don’t care,” Technoblade joins in now, clapping Wilbur on the back as he giggles.

“Nice, Toms, real smooth.” Purpled tells him, his wings twitching as he laughs. Tommy grins at him, clapping him on the shoulder.

“You know boys, I get where you’re coming from now, I do wanna keep him.” Phil says suddenly, sobering the mood instantly. Tommy and Purpled’s eyes meet, fear setting in. They can’t go through that again, they can’t go through that again. 

“Dad, c’mon, it’s up to the kid,” This takes Tommy aback, Technoblade’s words startling both ‘young’ men. Technoblade looks at Tommy, nodding carefully. “Yeah, kid, it’s up to you, and it doesn’t have to be permanent. We just like ya, you know?” 

Tommy looks at Purpled, and Wilbur understands immediately.

“Of course he can stay too, Tommy.” Wilbur assures him, and Tommy smiles and nods rapidly. Purpled does too, the boys intertwine limbs, Tommy’s tail and Purpled’s hand. This earns a look of shock from the royals, but they’re all too tired to care. 

“Here I’ll show you boys to your rooms,” Phil offers, leading the two away from the crowded throne room into a darker hallway. After walking for a little while, they arrive at the royal bedchambers, where across from a door marked ‘Wilbur’ in very flowy handwriting, two unused rooms lay. They’re both shown to their own chambers, listening to the sounds of footsteps as Phil gently retreats.

If Purpled snuck into Tommy’s room that night to curl up into the crook of the larger boy’s neck, no one noticed. Maybe he was just cold, Tommy produces a lot of heat. 

The two new royals fell asleep gently, wings wrapped around each other under a blanket filled with down. The content smiles on their faces were enough to keep Wilbur away, even when the sun rose and Tommy clearly had horns on his head that weren’t costumes.

Tommy and Purpled were great at Halloween parties.