Stygiophobia

Teenagers care

"Please, have a seat, Dream. It's been a while since you've come over." Dream took a seat across from Quackity. His house was big, but not as big as Quackitys. Quackity prided himself on his materials.

"It seems you've gathered more riches over this last bit, haven't you?" Quackity sat down with aggression, practically letting himself fall back against the cushions.

"What can I say? It's a rich man's world, you know. I'm Quackity, the one and only. The dealer, the jeweler, the damned casino man. I'm everything, and still more, I steal from God. I know many things, and I doubt I'll know nothing about whatever you wish to know about." Quackity extended his arms while sitting back in his chair. He was right to be full of himself, he truly is the best at what he does.

"Don't forget, you must reap what you've sown." Dream was a man of a vicious smile, perhaps having a bit too much of a rivalry with his dear old friend.

"I have no need of reaping, I'll pay it all to leave me be." Another bright and sure smile. There was no getting to the gambling man.

"Whatever you say, Quackity. We should get to business though, I need your help." Quackity sat up extra quickly at that.

"The devil needs my help? You know my help comes at a price." Quackity leaned forwards, his arms resting against his knees.

"Anything you want, just name a price." George looked up at Dream for the first time since sitting down, he was far too busy in awe over Quackitys glowing crystal white decor.

"Wait, Dream, you don't need to give away that much. I can manage on my own." George thought that the bottle of blood alone was a lot to ask, but looking at this guy's expensive? He would want too much, George just knew it.

"Shh, George. Money is nothing if I don't get to see you happy." A sentence can feel like a gunshot, and George definitely felt himself grow light with those words. There's so many things a soul can say, and still the devil knows the right things at the very right times.

"Since you've offered me whatever I'd like... I want him, the angel, for a full hour to myself." Quackity dared to make eye contact with his friend, dared to make such a challenge. Dream stared back in utter disbelief.

A moment of deafening silence filled the room.

"I'm kidding, Dream. I know better than to take what's yours. I'll do it for free." Quackity sat back again, feeling no pressure or anxiety, he never really did.

"For free?! That doesn't sound like you... what's the catch?" Dream was astonished, he definitely wasn't going to believe it just yet.

"No catch this time. I am in need of nothing, and if it's for this dime piece, I'd do anything for free. You've got yourself pretty privileged there, angel. You should feel lucky, most people don't have that." For a fleeting moment, Quackity rubbed a finger along the long deep scar adorned by his face, through his lips all the way to over his eyes.

Quackity owed a debt to Technoblade; He didn't pay up. The blade wants blood, he did not receive so easily.

The anarchist and merchant put it behind them, they always do.

"Oh? I don't know about that... are you sure you don't want something from me?" George asked hopefully as always, Dream laid a finger over George's mouth.

"Accept kindness, my dear. He's rare to be giving; be complimented, I've only ever seen him do this once before." Dream warned quietly, but of course, Quackity hears everything.

"Ah yes, that handsome angel and his lovely boyfriend. Sappy and Karl. They're such a pretty pair, I couldn't have asked for anything, they deserved what they asked for. Those rings look beautiful on their fingers. Such a loving thing, promise rings. I love those boys." Quackity swooned over his friends, feeling no shame at all.