In a far off place from Gravity Falls, there lived a small, furry demon who's sole purpose in life was to fit in. It's the only thing he wanted... and the only thing no one ever gave him.

The little guy's dream was to be fierce - like the Cool Demon Crew. Sure, the name was kind of pathetic sounding, but everyone in the Boiling Isles knew their name. It was clear that they practically ran the place. The demon always observed them on the street that his old, run down alley was connected to from the torn up box he slept in. (It wasn't much, but it was home.) The crew would run up, down, and around town, screaming in witches and demons' faces to give them gifts and offerings as if they were natural born leaders. Well... they kind of were... The creature wanted to be strong and intimidating just like them. If he was part of that crew, he would never again be considered a failure. Stupid societal expectations; he'd show them.

He'd show all of them.

The fuzzy demon awoke from his afternoon nap and stretched, popping his head out of his box excitedly to carefully watch the main street. He waited patiently for a while, then almost squealed with anticipation when he heard the sound of the Cool Demon Crew's laughter and clinking of the hundreds of snails they've snatched from people approaching. The little guy jumped out of his box, brushed off his fur, and did his best strut out of the alley and onto the street. Strategically stopping in front of the crew, the demon kicked back and reclined against the cracking wall with peeling paint of an old building, trying his best to calm down so his tail wouldn't wag.

The crew slowed their walking to a stop and one by one, each of the seven members turned to face him. A demon with scaly skin of crimson, who was standing in the middle of the group's triangular formation - the ringleader, no doubt - scoffed down upon the furry one:

"And who are you supposed to be?"

The demon addressed tried to casually look up at him, but shook with excitement anyway. "I-I'm your newest member."

The scaly red gave him a once over, then exchanged various blank looks with the rest of the intimidating crew. After what seemed like forever, the leader spoke again:

"I can totally see it... can't you guys?"

The rest of the group all gave wicked grins and muttered their agreements, some nodding their heads in reply. A girl with shiny blue skin to the red's left spoke up: "You're right, Red! This kid..." She paused to laugh. "Totally!

Red gave a smug smirk to the hopeful demon. "Then it's decided! You, my little friend..." The fluffy demon held his breath. This was it! It was really happening!

"...are waaay too cute to hang with us!"

The demon's eyes widened. Wait... what?

The crew all laughed hysterically, some even tearing up despite themselves. Red crossed his arms after he composed himself from laughing so hard, still with his smug grin. "I can't believe you actually thought a little baby like you could be a member of our crew!" Another round of hooting laughter. Red ruffled the hair on the mortified demon and pushed him on the ground.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"See you around, Furball!"

And with that, the crew was gone. The tiny demon, fur now covered in dirt from being shoved into the surface, stood up and stared at the ground. Some townspeople who had observed the display whispered to each other, gossiping about what just went down.

The words of Red echoed in the little one's ears. And he cried.

All of his dreams were crushed, and he couldn't do anything but run. He wanted to run so far that all of his problems would just disappear. Poof - and it never happened. He felt so worthless.

After running for so long, the demon slowed to a stop. He hadn't realized that he had ran himself right out of town, all the way into the outskirts of the desert that surrounded the Boiling Isles. His panting turned to his regular breathing as he looked around and took it in. The only sight to see was miles and miles of sand, and heat threatened to overtake him. He shook it off and sat down on a mound of sand. His negative thoughts that he tried so desperately to push away unfortunately returned, and he was forced to live through his moment of rejection again.

"Too cute," the fuzzy demon huffed. "Too cute?"

"TOO CUTE?!" He screamed to the empty desert. Remembering that he was alone, he tried to reign in his frustration by walking some more. "Well, too cute my - huh?" His clawed foot had bumped into something solid and hard. He had looked down, assuming it was a rock, but it wasn't.

It was a skull.

How could there be a skull in the middle of the desert that no one goes to? And with no other visible bones at that... Strange.

Curious, the demon picked it up. It was surprisingly light, since it was hollow. He examined it closely, noting that it wasn't cracked - well, besides one of the horns being broken off. He thought it looked pretty cool, so he playfully tried it on. Somehow, it fit, like it was made for him.

"Nice... If only those fools could see me now!" He said to himself, laughing. Then he froze in realization.

Why couldn't they see him now?

A devious smile crept across the demon's face. He was going to show them just how "cute" he really was.

---

The furry little guy made his run back into town, looking on every street and corner for the Cool Demon Crew. Where could they- aha!

He spotted them.

And he laughed.

They had no idea what was coming.

The crew had just finished raiding a witch's house who wasn't home. They all blabbered on and on to each other until they turned around and saw him. They froze.

And then burst into laughter.

The demon with the skull-head clenched his fists in anger. How dare they laugh! A weird and unusual feeling came over the demon. It felt like fire in his soul that threatened to escape at the drop of a coin. Red opened his mouth to speak, but the only thing that came out was a scream of pain.

Everything that happened in that moment was a blur. It was an involuntary attack that one would have never thought possible of such a little guy.

Scratch.

Bite.

Blood.

Repeat.

It went on and on and on until every demon in that crew was writhing on the ground in complete agony. They cried and spit out blood.

He should've felt proud of his revenge.

But he didn't.

Some masked guards of the Emperor's Coven approached when some of the townspeople brought them over after hearing the pained sounds of the crew. They pulled out their staffs and surveyed the situation. They saw the beat-up demons... and a furball.

And that furball ran.

As fast as his little legs could carry him.

They chased him for an eternity. Tears of fear and guilt welled in the demon's eyes. He didn't know where to go, what to do... Just run.

Run.

Run.

Run.

A burst of light.

The guards and the demon were thrown to the ground.

The demon looked up, his head spinning.

He saw an owl staff.

Then darkness.