#travis with demon powers

[shadowknightapologist]

do you ever think abt how aphmau's crew was absolutely fucking stacked. nevermind the fact multiple of them are relic holders, she had 3 men on the Jo9 list (garroth, laurance, dante), a shadow knight (laurance), a demon?? (travis), an actual juror (katelyn), two witches (KC and lucinda), probably more i'm misremembering but like BROOOO. the power of picking up strays with genuine care and connection is unmatched.

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Chapter Six

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!)

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Author note: Dear Hoteliers, VOX IS BACK BABY!

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Six - A Stroll

Content Warning: Obsession, Choking, Graphic Sexual Scenes Involving Violence, Self Harm, Minors DNI!

Vox poured a cup of coffee into his “Fuck Alastor” mug and whistled as he exited the penthouse suite, heading for his office. 

“What has him in such a cheery mood this mornin’, hmm?” Val asks from his spot on the couch, flipping through various channels on the television. The moth demon sipped from his own “Pimpin’ Not Simpin” mug. 

Velvette sat on the edge of the countertop, a new phone in hand, tapping away. “Something about his mysterious Alley Girl. How the Hell should I know?” 

“The bitch staying with Alastor?” Valentino adjusted his rose glasses. 

“Yup.”

Val took another sip of his mug, before finally flipping to 666 News. “I can’t even get that lanky prick to return my calls, and Mr. Flat Screen thinks he can romance one of Charlie’s Redeemers without pissing off the Smiling Freak?” 

Velvette finally puts the phone away. Grabbing her own coffee cup, she jumps over the back of the couch to join Valentino in watching the morning broadcast. “At least he’s movin’ on.” She shrugs. “If I have to hear him bitch one more time about Al…”

The television chimed, interrupting their conversation and announcing the start of a special broadcast. “Travis Miku, a former employee of V Tower Productions, was found burnt to a crisp this morning just outside the Entertainment District…”

Val spit his coffee across the room. “What!?” 

____________________________________________

“Okay, Scales,” you laugh, pouring the coconut milk into the cup. 

“Ay’, nicknames are my thang, Hair clip!” Angel scolded from his seat at the table. 

“What do you think of this?” You spun, sending the cappuccino flying down the table. It sailed with such force that it flew right past the snake demon and crashed onto the tile floor next to a pair of black and red dress shoes. You were so distracted that you didn’t notice the run of static down your spine. 

Fuck.

“My, it seems I have stumbled across the old rough and tumble this morning,” the demon’s radio clicks onto a smooth jazz before he slips into his apron and starts the stove. He’s in a good mood.

You’re frozen in place for a moment, very aware of the Radio Demon standing right next to you and the mere inches the coffee cup had to spare before acosting him. The room has gone silent, nervously awaiting the Radio Demon and his temper. Yet, it doesn’t come. 

Your eyes flit down to his red and black shoes - not a speck on them - you wouldn’t - couldn’t - make eye contact with the demon. Especially after last night. Your cheeks heat with the memory of his lips on yours. 

Fucking Hell. You’ve never experienced this before. You’ve never wanted to do… sexual things. It wasn’t in your nature. Dad raised you on the belief that anything before marriage was a sin and so you spent the majority of your life believing the same thing. When you finally were free of him you found that you just didn’t have any interest. Not in men or women. It just wasn’t something you thought of. 

Your closest friend tried to talk you into it, she was as promiscuous as they get - she’d rival even Adam’s body count - but you just didn’t really want to. She’d go off and sleep with whatever had two legs, while you’d prefer a good book and a glass of wine in your bed. 

Now? Your thoughts and feelings towards those things were getting… confusing. Alastor was making those things confusing and you really hated to admit that. 

White-knuckled, the demon whipped a few eggs - clearly holding back his agitation from your almost attack. You wondered what it would take to break his smile, get him to try and frown for once. You wondered what you would have to do to wipe that smirk off his face…

Oh, and part of you would love to try but another part knows you needed to get on his good side. 

Rubbing the back of your neck, you grab a towel to…

“Oh, no, allow me, darling,” he snaps his finger and the pile of destroyed ceramic disappears. 

You swallow, “Thank you.” Turning back to the machine, you begin a new cup for Pentious and a hot cup of chai coffee for Alastor, listening awkwardly to the demon humming beside you. 

“So…” Husk starts. “Heard you were heading to Mimzy’s today.”

“I am,” you and the Radio Demon respond at the same time. His radio skips a beat, the jazz song turning to static as he meets your eye - God, that was starting to get annoying. His left eye twitches ever so slightly betraying his mask of a smile. 

You side eye the barkeep over your shoulder. You knew what he was doing. He was tasked to watch after you, which meant reporting your movements, especially when it involved the Overlord’s acquaintances - not cool Husk, not cool. 

“And what business would you have with ~my~ darling Mimzy?” Alastor’s radio clicked back to a smooth jazz. Did he play anything else? 

My Mimzy? MY?

“Just picking up a few things,” you turn back to the coffee, doing your best to concentrate on your coconut creation and the chai brewing next to it. 

“Seems we will be running in the same circles today then, Ms. Thestral,” his voice purrs. 

“Seems we will,” you wipe the rim of the cup before turning to the table, mugs in hand. You kept your eyes down, not wanting to catch Alastor’s gaze. 

Perhaps if you coordinated, you could find a time to get to the club when Alastor wouldn’t be there…

“Care to join me?” The demon purred. 

Your heart sank through your stomach and onto the floor. You practically dropped the mugs in your hand before setting them gently on the table. Finally, your eyes caught his. 

He looked rather domestic like this - frilly pink apron, spatula in hand. If no one knew who you were they’d think you a couple, getting ready for a quiet breakfast at home. Good thing your audience knew better. You were more likely to kill each other than anything else. And, underneath all of that, the demon looked utterly exhausted…

You shoot him your prettiest, most sincere smile, fighting the blush creeping up your neck. “I would be delighted,” you answer through gritted teeth. 

“Delightful,” the demon beams at you, his irises lighting up like crimson crystals.

Angel leans over to whisper to Husk, “What is happening?”

“Breakfast!” Alastor abruptly drops the pan, making the entire room jump. “Enjoy.”

The three blink before digging in, doing their best to ignore whatever pissing contest you and Alastor had found yourselves in - except for Angel. The Porn Star loved drama. 

The Radio Demon leans in, his gaze boring into you. You feel something tickle the peripherpy of your power. It wasn’t his shadow and it wasn’t him probing your power. It felt like his radio static had brushed up against your fire, like a caresse across your skin. It was eerily similar to the feeling you got when you and he made the deal atop the radio tower. 

Could he feel that too?

Your cheeks heated as he came closer, his gaze suddenly changed. From a look of pure anger to something else… “You’re not afraid of me.” 

The statement sent a shiver down your spine. 

Taking a deep breath, you leaned in closer, pushing all thoughts of his lips from your mind, of his hands on your throat, of his thigh between your legs, his chest flush with yours…  “Seems Charlie left that part out of the tour.” You smirked, your red lipstick contrasting against your white teeth. You wished you had more prominent canines for a situation such as this. 

God, why did Alastor make you feel so… so… angry!? That was the only way to describe what was happening. He made you angry. 

He laughed, a deep rumble from his chest, not the fake showman’s laugh you normally heard from him. His face lit up in a way you hadn’t seen before from the Overlord. Then he fell silent, uncharacteristically so. His eyes dipped down. Not to your neck. No, his gaze didn’t drop low enough. 

Was he… What is he… Your face grew warm as a blush crept up from your collarbones.  

He was staring at your lips. 

“Um, excussssse me?” Sir Pentious’ question broke the tension, bringing you both back to the room. 

You cleared your throat, finding your seat at the table. 

Ignoring the looks Angel Dust was shooting you from across the room, you pushed the cappuccino to the snake. 

“...I don’t eat eggssss.” The serpent smiled. “May I have pancakesss?” He beamed. 

Alastor’s smile strained. “Of course, my slippery friend.” 

You were in no place to point out that pancakes still had eggs in them.

“...With chocolate chipsss?” He blinked, his eyes growing big. 

The Radio Demon snapped the spatula in half in his hand. “Right away.”

You resisted the urge to laugh, finding your own mug of hot coffee. The static returned to the room, switching angrily between stations before returning to a smooth jazz. 

“Morning!” Charlie yawned. She had a small bouquet of blue flowers in her hand. “Thestral these came for you.” She placed the bouquet down in front of you before finding her seat. 

There’s a card. 

Your blood runs cold. 

Holy fucking shit. 

“Who they from?” Angel asks.

You crumble the note in your hand. “Nobody important,” you quickly lie. 

Fucking blue Forget-Me-Knots. How fucking hilarious of him. How in the Hell did he find you and know who you are!? You’d burn these to a crisp if you didn’t have so many eyes on you. 

You went over to the garbage and aggressively tossed the flowers in, irritation prickling the back of your neck. Before you had a chance to register what was happening, Angel slipped his fingers in yours, and pulled the crumbled note from your grasp. You lunged for the paper, but one of his hands pushed down on your head, placing you thoroughly out of range of his many appendages. 

The spider demon’s mouth dropped. “Vox!?” 

Shit. 

The room went silent. 

Vaggie grabbed the paper from Angel and read it herself. “Why is an Overlord sending you flowers?”

Ah, how to explain…

“I…” You pinched the bridge of your nose between forefinger and thumb. “I fixed his bowtie…” You grumbled. 

“You fixed his bowtie?” Angel repeated, absolutely dumbfounded. 

“Why were you anywhere near him?” Vaggie was in your face now, challenging you from her even shorter stature. 

“He ran into me, quite literally, on my way to the club, after Rosie’s,” your eye’s flit to Alastor, but he was nonchalantly perched behind black and white text, sipping the coffee you had made him. Was he ignoring this conversation or just not interested? “His bowtie was tangled, so I fixed it for him, but he had no idea who I was. I didn’t even give him my name! I have no idea how he found me or why he’d even send me flowers…” You slammed the lid of the garbage can shut. 

“Wait, you went to Rosie’s!?” Vaggie challenged. 

“She’s my tailor…” You were now thoroughly irritated. “That doesn’t matter!” You fell into your seat with a thud, arms crossed in front of you, you slumped onto the table. A wave of coolness puddled beneath your ankles as you sat - Alastor’s shadow you assume. 

“You had a meet-cute with Vox?” Angel was still stuck on that part. 

Alastor flipped the page of his newspaper rather aggressively, his shadow twirling around and around your feet. He wasn’t Vox’s biggest fan, so you’re sure the entirety of the Hotel crew obsessing over your interaction with him wasn’t sitting well with the Overlord. 

You shot the spider demon a confused, yet exasperated look. Vaggie and Charlie shared a look of concern. Husk poured more alcohol into his orange juice.

“Why the fuck, do you hang around so many Overlords…” Vaggie started but, Charlie interrupted her. 

“What Vaggie means to say is, we’re worried about you,” Her voice was sweet as she came to sit next to you, crouched so she could catch your eyeline.

“Was it hot?” Angel wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Was there tension of the… sexual nature?” He beamed. Your face turned scarlet.

“Angel, I don’t…” You start but are interrupted. 

SNAP! 

The Radio Demon’s newspaper disappeared as did his music. Summoning his microphone, he stormed from the kitchen, leaving the rest of you in a wave of silence. His shadow followed, almost as if it was pulled away rather aggressively. 

“What was all that about?” Vaggie snapped. 

“He looked kind of mad, maybe I should go check on him?” Charlie started to stand but Vaggie pushed her back down. 

“Uh, no! No way! You are not going after an Overlord with an anger issue.” 

You sighed into your arms. This day was starting off great…

Charlie’s eyes shot to Husk. Pouting her lip, she silently begged the barkeep. 

“Ugh!” Rising to his feet, he chugged the rest of his drink. “I don’t get paid enough for this shit.” He disappeared through the flapping kitchen door. 

“Not to change the subject, but has anyone seen Nifty?” Angel asked.

“Not since last night. I swear if she’s stuck in the ventilation shafts again…” Vaggie swore under her breath in Spanish. 

“Maybe we should go look for her?” Charlie ran her hands through her hair, still watching the kitchen door swing on its hinges. 

“Good idea, let’s split up into teams. I call Thestral!” Angel practically dragged you to your feet. Pushing you out the door, he called back, “Hair clip and I will check this floor!” 

“This conversation isn’t over!” Vaggie called out after you. 

Next thing you know you were following him down the hallway, coffee-less and grumpy. You weren’t yourself before that first cup of joe and the Hotel Natives had not yet learned what happens when you don’t get it. Plus, the whole Vox situation was just tipping you over the edge. 

Static found your spine as you walked - Alastor. His shadow was following you.  

Angel made a great deal of effort to check every nook and cranny as you walked, but your eyes were on him. “Thank you for rescuing me,” You stop walking, irritation prickling your skin. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the shadow of the table twitch ever so slightly. 

He takes a glance down both hallways, ensuring you were alone. “You know what just happened don’t ya’?” 

You raised an eyebrow in question. 

“Flirting with the Radio Demon like that and then throwing Vox in his face. Are you nuts?” He grabbed at his hair.  

“What!?” You barked, your jaw practically on the floor. 

“I saw the way the two of yous… Owe! Owe! Owe! How are you this strong!?” You dragged Angel by his ear to the foyer and out the front doors. Husk was at the bar, shooting you weird looks, but eventually he shrugged it off and went back to cleaning up broken glass. 

You didn’t stop until you were standing in the middle of the cobblestone road, in broad daylight, with the closest puddle of shadows at least thirty feet away. Alastor’s shadow could still reach you if it wanted to, but it didn’t know that you knew it was following you - so, it would have to stay hidden. It was now, thankfully, out of earshot.

“What the fuck was that for?” Angel rubbed his ear as you released him. 

“Let’s get this straight. I was not ~flirting~ with the Radio Demon. I hate him. What you saw was me not backing down to his intimidation. I refuse to cower before someone who thinks they have some sort of power over me.” You gritted through your teeth. “Also, I did not ask for attention from Vox. I did not ask for flowers. I didn’t want it brought up but you had to go and snoop into my business!”

Angel blinks at you, before something clicks in his mind. “Oooh, I get it now! You wanna hate fuck him.” Angel beamed at you. 

Goddammit. You’d rip his head off right here if you didn’t like him so much. 

“Look, if Smiles is what does it for ya…” 

“Angel,” you bite, but he continues over you.

“…then I’m not one to judge, but you should know one thing. Never, in the history of Hell, has the guy been seen with anyone.” 

“Wha… What!?” Your face was turning red, not out of embarrassment but anger. How could Angel think that this was what you wanted to hear right now!? 

“Yup, better believe it. Overheard Valentino and Vox talking about it. Apparently the guy’s a total loner. I’m not saying he’s a virgin but there’s a possibility.” 

You could feel the heat bubbling beneath your skin, threatening to break through. 

“Although come to think of it, Vox talks about Alastor’s sex life quite a bit. Wonder what…”

“Angel Dust,” you snap. “I don’t care about Alastor’s sex life.” You were seconds away from ripping the hair out of your head - reminding yourself that this was Angel, you did your best to contain yourself. 

“Oh, well you should.” He crosses his arms, a smirk across his face.

Pinching the bridge of your nose between forefinger and thumb, you do your best to take a breath. “Why would I care about who Alastor has or has not slept with?” 

“Because he’s heading this way,” the spider demon points over his shoulder. You spin, blush creeping into your skin, turning the pink to a bright red. You pray he hadn’t heard you talking just now. 

The demon slips through the front door, his cane clacking against the ground as he descends upon you. You're helpless, your mind blank as he comes to stand just feet from where you and Angel had been hiding from his shadow. 

You were so irritated with Angel and focused on Alastor’s shadow you had missed the static creeping down your spine alerting you to his impending presence. 

“Hello, darling, you wouldn’t be leaving without me, would you?” The demon’s smile gives nothing away - if he heard you, he made no show of it. 

“Oh, no. She’s all yours, Smiles.” Angel practically shoves you forward. “You, me, bar, later!” He demands as he heads for the safety of the Hotel. Behind Alastor’s back, Angel sends you a quick wink before disappearing inside. 

You had grown quite attached to Angel Dust in the short time you’ve been here. So much so that his innocent flirting and quick sex quips brought a smile to your face. And because of that - the muscle twitching in your jaw - you still couldn’t find the room to hate him. Angel Dust was pure - despite his choice of profession - and you found yourself again wondering how Valentino could lay his hands upon such a wonderful person. Even if he can be a twat sometimes.

“Actually, we were looking for Nifty,” you crossed your arms, willing your heart to stop pounding. He could probably hear it from where he stood. 

“Ah, it’s a good thing our effeminate friend headed back inside then. The Little Angel has found herself wedged within an air shaft on the ceiling of the library.” He saddles up next to you, your head coming to the height of his chest, before holding his elbow out to you. “Shall we?” 

You thought the Radio Demon didn’t like to be touched?

Begrudgingly, you loop your arm in his, your fingers coming to rest atop his jacketed forearm - did he ever wear anything else? - doing your best to ignore the fact that you were touching him. He was warm - not something you expected from him. His shadows always felt so cold when they wrapped around you, you had assumed he would be much the same - cold and dead. 

You took a sniff to try and grasp his emotions, to see if he smelled of deceit and indeed had overheard your conversation, but instead of the lemony tartness of the emotion, he smelled of musk, of the deep woods after a rainstorm. It was… unexpected… Especially considering you hadn’t been able to scent anything off of him before this.

And his attitude? He stormed out of the kitchen not twenty minutes ago and now he appears here, his smile seemingly normal, not an ounce of stress in his eyebrows. You wondered what happened to change his mood so quickly?

You did your best to keep your eyes on the path ahead as you walked. “You don’t seem so concerned for someone in your… services?” 

He laughed, “Oh, darling, I see you did some homework. Yes, Nifty is a soul I own, and yes she does find herself in a bind quite often.” He helped you down the curb and into the street as you crossed. Despite the smiles on your face, the tension between the two of you was so palpable you could cut it with a knife. “But the difference is, that I trust them to take care of her.” 

You scoff, sidestepping a dead rat. “If not I guess you have Husk to tattletale later.”

Out of the corner of your eye, something in the demon’s demeanor turns dark. “You would be surprised how difficult that barcat can be…” 

You wonder what happened after Alastor and Husk left the room. There was no shouting or arguing but apparently some broken glass? Perhaps it was Alastor’s anger towards the barkeep. Perhaps it was his irritation with Vox. Whatever it may have been, he appears unphased now. That or he’s really good at putting on a show.

You pass the Entertainment District, V Tower looming overhead. Alastor stiffened slightly, his other hand coming to rest on your arm against his. 

Yeah, definitely a Vox issue. 

Your heart skips a beat as his gloved fingers settle atop yours and you resist the urge to pull away. 

His fingers on yours… 

Your face heated. 

Shit, think of something else. 

You fixate on V Tower. God, the past few nights spent perched on rooftops and just listening and watching Vox and his little gang bitch about absolutely nothing were really starting to get to you. 

But last night you had slept. Which doesn’t sound like a lot but you haven’t truly had a decent night’s rest since coming to the Hotel. Now, with Alastor’s radio, you could finally catch a few Zs - despite the dream. You were ignoring that it even happened - as best you could. 

At first the music was used to drown out the screams of the Sinners those first few days in Hell, then it became something you needed. It made you feel weak to rely on something so trivial, but, hey, this was Hell - suffering on some level had to be involved. 

“Thank you,” you finally managed, looking down at your feet. “For the radio.” 

Alastor’s shoulders dropped ever so slightly, his fingers twitching on your arm. “Of course, my dear. Whatever I can do to help.” He didn’t sound as cheerful as his words. His mind fixated on the media demon’s tower looming over you. 

Might as well address it directly. You didn’t work well with… complicated emotions, but anger? Fuck. Anger was your best friend. 

“Vox has been quiet lately.” You prod. “Ever wonder why he hasn’t flat out tried to take you down?” Heaven’s Clocktower came into view. 

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I suspect his systems are still reloading,” he answers coolly. 

“Hmm,” you ponder. “For a seemingly all powerful Overlord, the man has one major weakness.”

“And what would that be, darling?” The edge of Cannibal Town was coming into view. You took a right - heading for the old section of the Entertainment District. 

You ignored the butterflies in your belly, now kicked up in a flurry at his purr of “darling.”

You wonder if Alastor is technically not allowed in any part of the Entertainment District - seeing as how it is the Vees’ territory. But what did they care about an old jazz club tucked away in the far less frequented parts of Pentagram City?

“Unplug him,” you smiled at your own joke. 

And, to your surprise, the Radio Demon tips his head back and laughs. Not his corny showman laugh, but a deep rumble that emanates from within his chest. You’re shocked for a moment, not sure of how to take his change in emotion, but then your quiet giggles join his. 

At least Vox was something you both could agree on. 

“...back to you Katie!” A crowd was gathering around a storefront, television screens turned on inside - granted they were older models, 1950s-esque, but 666 News worked on everything. 

You hastily listened as you passed, Alastor having no desire to join a forming crowd - watching a television no less - to a breaking news podcast regarding another murder. 

“Travis Miku, a former employee of V Tower Productions, was found burnt to a crisp this morning just outside the Entertainment District. His ashes have been returned to his wife…”

You chuckle. 

It was his wife who gave you her soul for the hit. A minor deal, but Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither was your power as Overlord. 

“On a lighter note, if anyone has any information on how to contact the Shadow, you can call the studio tip hotline. Asking for a friend…”

The buzz of the picture box is drowned out by the hustle and bustle of the Vees’ territory. Cars honked as they drove by, people on cell phones, clubs playing music for patrons who had still been there from the night before. 

“Oh, please do enlighten me as to what has peaked your fancy now?” Alastor’s question brought you from your thoughts. 

“I find the growing desire to unmask the Shadow to be fruitless.”

The Overlord stiffened next to you. “How ever could you mean?”

“It’s simple. Unmask the mask and what do you get? Just another mask. No one in Hell goes by their true name and the ones who do are now dead twice over. It doesn’t matter who this Shadow is, they still remain a threat regardless of their identity. It would be like learning your name was actually Alex instead of Alastor. You’re still the Radio Demon - nothing has changed.” 

“Spoken by someone who sounds like they have nothing to lose?” He raised an eyebrow.

You sigh, your heart knotting itself in your chest. “I don’t…” 

Everyone you knew was topside - Heaven - and wherever the Hell your father was. No one left on Earth to care for you now. Not even friends… Even if anyone were to find out who you truly are, they’d have no leverage. Well, you did care for Rosie, but she could take care of herself.

Alastor didn’t ask further, content on finishing the walk in silence. His fingers wrapped around yours were warm and oddly comforting. Actually, silences were oddly comfortable with the Radio Demon - considering his radio never truly left you alone. 

You walked the rest of the way in a background of music. The demon changed the channel every so often to find something that he liked - you questioned whether he was picking up actual radio waves or just cycling through his memory like a CD multidisc drive. 

Did he know all these songs or were some of them new to him? Did he only listen to music of the twenties and thirties or had his tastes grown in time? You wondered what he would think of jazz now - it had changed so much in the last hundred years. 

You were a block away from your destination when the curiosity got the better of you. 

“The radio thing you do,” you began awkwardly, “is that something you can turn off completely or…?” 

The demon thought for a moment before you heard what you believed to be the sound of a needle gently lifting off a record. No music. No static. Something weighed heavily in his eyebrows, making them crinkle ever so slightly. He didn’t look at you when he answered, “It is uncomfortable.”

And that’s all he said before his fingers found the front door of “Bob’s Barber.” Alastor held the door, motioning for you to go first. What a gentleman.

Bob’s Barber was a stereotypical barbershop, complete with leather chairs and red and white twirled poles. Inside was a shark demon, dressed in a white apron, sweeping the floor of hair. 

“It looks like acid rain today,” the barber muttered. 

“Yes, well, it’s a good thing I always carry an umbrella*,” you answered.

The barber stopped his sweeping to smile at you. “Since when do you take the front door, Loca?”

You pounded his fist with your own, “And who’s this?” His smile dropped when he turned to Alastor, standing at your side, hands placed gently on the top of his microphone. 

“A friend.” 

Not a friend. 

“And since when do you have friends?” The barber was not backing down, smelling blood in the water. Smart guy.

“Didn’t say he was my friend, Luis,” you smiled. 

The shark demon turned to you, his large hand - fin? - ruffling the hair atop your head. You hated when he did that, but also loved it. 

“Alastor,” the Radio Demon held out his claws for a handshake, “perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

The shark demon looked from his hand to his face and back to his hand again. “No.” You didn’t hold back your laugh. “But if Loca says you’re cool, then go on ahead.” The barber leaned behind the front desk and cranked a lever. A panel in the mirrored wall popped open - oh, the fun of speakeasies. 

You felt Luis’ eyes bore into Alastor as you made your way through the wall and down a set of stairs. You were suddenly very grateful for the overprotective shark demon who had become something of a friend over the years. 

“Mimzy did always love her theatrics!” Alastor’s tone was light, but you could tell he was irritated by the bruise in his ego. Narcissist. 

It was early, the club technically wouldn’t be open for hours. The lights were on revealing the slick wetness of a newly polished wood floor that gave way to red carpeting. The bar was at the very back of the establishment, wooden and antique with a backdrop of rows and rows of bootleg liquor - the original stuff. Seems nostalgia wasn’t lost on the old guard of Hell. Moonshine was still made from white sugar, the bottles were random containers of glass wrapped in handwritten labels. 

Booths lined the back of the establishment, their red velvet cleaned weekly. Closer towards the stage were tables, white clothes covering their tops, complete with candle centerpieces. It was a truly classic Prohibition Era establishment. Complete with a grand piano at the middle of it all. How Mimzy still managed to pull all this off after a hundred years you didn’t know. Your job was to show up, learn the music, and play. 

“Seven years and it hasn’t changed a bit!” Alastor twirled his cane, having come to rest at his back as he surveyed the establishment. 

“Alastor!?” A small, rather portly woman popped out from behind the stage curtain. 

The Radio Demon’s lips curled as the woman ran over. “By the way, darling,” he leans into you, his lips brushing the crest of your ear. In a low whisper, his voice deep and raspy, the demon spoke, “I’m not a virgin.” 

HOLY SHIT. Before your brain has time to process his words, Mimzy runs over.

“Alastor! I thought I heard your voice!” Dressed like a pink flapper, complete with feather in hair, the club owner practically tramples Alastor as she brings him into a… hug? You try not to let your jaw hit the floor. “Sweetie, Doll-face, So good to see you! How've you been? Good? Good.” She turns to the barkeep. “Rex, bust out the good rye, we’re celebratin’!” 

God, she was the sweetest, loudest person you had ever met. 

“Mimzy, dear, so good to see you,” Alastor’s radio was back to his jovial tune. Mimzy led him to a booth, completely ignoring your presence. 

As the demon was whisked away, you felt his shadow twirl about your ankles before joining your own. 

Oh, no, no, no. He doesn’t just get to say something like that and walk away. You spin and kick at the shadow, but nothing comes of it - well, nothing you wanted to happen. Instead, you manage to pop a blister. 

“Fuck,” you mumbled, pulling off a heel. Red blood bubbled on the side of your foot. 

Great. Just great. You were going to half to walk home, across Pentagram City, shoeless - again. Can’t fly home in daylight, too many eyes would be on you and you couldn’t risk anyone following you back to the Hotel. It would be too easy.

You limp a few steps to a table, but stop when Alastor’s shadow beats you to it. The thing grabs a napkin and brings it back to you. Hesitating, you turn to the booth where Mimzy and Alastor were now sitting, chatting away. The demon doesn’t even glance in your direction, completely entranced with whatever joke the two of them were laughing at. 

The Radio Demon was a superb multitasker if he could tell jokes and watch you through his shadow at the same time. Or, was it not conscious control? Was it a mindless minion like his shadow imps that fixed the Hotel wall the first day you moved in? Or was his shadow a soul he owned, someone tricked into servitude for the rest of eternity? 

“Thank you?” You accepted the token, using it to wipe up the blood from your foot. The shadow quickly zips away, melting into your own. You could still feel it’s presence, however, as you pulled off the other shoe to storm off into the back room. 

“Oh, no you don’t!” Mimzy’s call stopped you in your tracks. “Yeah, I see ya’, come ova’ here!” 

White knuckled, you rounded the corner to face the two of them, drinks being poured at their table - Alastor with his usual rye and Mimzy with some sort of gin and tonic. 

“Don’t think ya’ can just sneak by me,” she chastises. “Ya’ skipped out on me last weekend. It ain’t gonna happen this week.”

Oh, the look on Alastor’s face right now. He was relishing your scolding. Asshole. Why was he even here anyway? 

“Sheet music is on the piano. You’re fillin’ in for Roxie.” 

“Two days!?” You protested. “You want a full headliner in two days!?” 

“You gonna complain? That’s showbiz, kid!” She took a swig of her drink and hiccuped. 

“Oh, go easy on the poor dear, Mimzy. She’s…” Alastor smiled, but you cut him off. 

“I do not need your sympathy.” You stomped over to the black piano and swiped the music sheets atop it. 

Mimzy looked between the two of you. “You let her talk to you like that?”

“He doesn’t let me do anything. I do whatever I want,” you answered for him and stormed out. 

____________________________________________

“I’ll see you later, Luis,” you called to the shark demon as you stomped back onto the streets of the Entertainment District, very aware of the Radio Demon’s shadow following you. 

No way in Hell were you going to practice with an audience - and in front of Alastor no less. Ugh! You’d take the music and practice back at the Hotel, hidden away in the old music room where no one would bother you. 

Jesus, you needed a cup of tea or a yoga session or something! You were wound so tightly after last night and this morning that you were grinding your teeth as you walked. Maybe you should make a stop at Rosie’s on the way back, bounce a few ideas off of her, figure out what she thinks you should do to solve your Radio Demon problem. Maybe…

“Need a ride?” 

Fuck. As if you needed another problem right now!

A black limo slowed its pace to match yours. The window rolled down to reveal Vox in a newly pressed suit, a sly grin on his face. How the fuck did he find you?

You rolled your eyes and kept limping walking, a familiar ache building in your feet. Angel had done a great job in patching your blisters, and these new shoes helped a ton, but you had still walked all the way across Pentagram City this morning - perhaps you bit off more than you could chew. Regardless, you were not getting in that limo. 

“Hey, where you goin’?” Vox awkwardly chuckled. The media demon practically fell out the door onto the ground, landing on all fours. He brushed himself off and sped walked until he caught up with you. Falling in line, he grabbed both his lapels, sauntering next to you. Lesser demons noted the Overlord’s presence, and quickly parted for you to pass. 

“None of your business,” you snapped through gritted teeth, speeding up. 

“Mind if I join you?” He flashed you a grin. 

“I do, actually.” 

God, this guy can’t take a hint. 

“Oh, well okay then…” Vox’s smile faltered, he turned his attention to the path ahead, but he didn’t leave. “I guess I‘ll just head home then… Which just so happens to be in the same direction…” He continued alongside you another block before you put the breaks on. 

“Vox, what do you want from me!?” You snapped, your hands curling into fists, crushing the sheet music you walked all the way here to get. 

Vox took a step back, hurt flashing across his screen before it was replaced by his neutral grin. “I just wanted to know if you got my flowers?”

You could feel the artery pulsing in your temple in agitation. You took a breath, stifling the flames itching beneath your skin. “Yes, I got your blue Forget-Me-Knots, very clever.”

“I’m glad you liked them,” he beamed, his confidence newly restored. 

God, this guy was like a golden retriever. 

“Is that all?” You ground your teeth. 

“No, actually.” He pulled another flower from his jacket pocket, offering it to you. “I was wondering if you would like to join me tonight?” The media demon painted his best grin on his face, his eyebrow cocked in question. He looked smug, his aura wafting off scents of rosemary - the scent of pride. He thought oh-so highly of himself. 

Your eyes flit between him and the blue flower, a dumb look on your face. You blinked a few times, “What?” 

“He’s asking you out!” Some random dude screamed from the growing crowd. 

Oh God, there were cameras. Demons were filming. This wasn’t good. The blood instantly drained from your face. “You’re… what?” 

The demon cleared his throat, preparing a rehearsed speech. “You’re the first demon in a long time to not take one look at me and flee. To look at me and not immediately idolize me. To look at me and not want something from me. In fact, you wanted nothing to do with me.” The media demon grabs your hand, his thumb brushing over your palm. Small sparks of static electricity dance their way up your arm. It felt different from Alastor’s static, Vox’s was more metallic and surface level whereas Alastor’s melted into your bones. 

You felt the Radio Demon’s shadow stir beneath your feet twirling about itself in agitation. Did the shadow know you could feel it? Did it know you could sense its agitation as easily as you could smell the emotions wafting off of others? 

“You’re absolutely breathtaking, but I’m sure you already knew that.” He chuckles. “There’s just something about you… I don’t even know you and yet I do not feel worthy of you.” Another chuckle, then a pause, a hesitation. “I would be truly and deeply honored if you would join me for…”

SCREECH.

“Hello, old pal,” Alastor was suddenly behind you, his radio pure static defeaning your ears. You jumped a few steps back, putting as much room between you and Vox as you could muster. You clutched your hand to your chest protectively, Vox’s electricity diminishing with each second his skin wasn’t on yours. 

The Radio Demon took a step in front of you, blocking your view of the media demon. He twirled his cane before slamming it against the stone pavement, green sparks flying from where it made contact. His shadow found its place beneath his feet once more. 

A pair of eyes and a mouth appeared in the shadow, as if Alastor’s own smile and irises were blocking the darkness. It shot a look of pure hatred at the media demon, its ears curling as if horns, its mouth widening in a razor sharp grin. His shadow looked absolutely lethal, but Alastor looked as cool as a cucumber, as if he just so happened across two friends during one of his outings. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Vox spat, returning the flower to his lapel. The demon’s left eye patterned red and white in anger. 

“I happened to be in the neighborhood,” the demon sang, cleaning his monocle as if Vox wasn’t worth giving his full attention to. 

Why was he… Oh, wait a minute. Now you get it. Alastor and Vox were fighting over you, not the lover’s triangle kind of fight, but the “Vox has something I want” kind of fight. You were a toy and they were two toddlers throwing a tantrum about who got to play with you. 

That’s why Alastor offered you his arm as you strode across town. That’s why he played the gentleman as you passed V Tower. That’s why he clung to you, his hands on your fingers, as you walked through the Entertainment District. You were a toy, an object for the two of them to stake a claim in owning. 

You weren’t a valuable toy to either of them - you felt the need to point out - this fight was about power, not about you at all. Figures…

“This has nothing to do with you, you Old Timey Prick!” Vox’s screen began to glitch, his voice cutting in and out with his screen. “So fuck off!” 

Alastor took his time fixing his monocle back into place before responding. “Hmm, yes. I do believe we have overstayed our welcome here in the Entertainment District, darling. Care for a lift home?” He eyes you from over his shoulder, his elbow out in anticipation. 

Vox looked to you, his face visibly saddening. God, it was pathetic. “She’s coming with me. I have already offered her a ride!” Vox motioned to the limo. 

Jesus boys, just whip them out and measure already. 

“Thestral is a guest at ~my~ Hotel and as such she is ~my~ responsibility. What would our dear Princess Morningstar say if I let her prattle about with the likes of you?” The demon’s eyes narrowed at Vox, a green aura emanating from his form.  

You know, part of you really wanted to see them duke it out right here, right now, so they could finally see who the real winner was between the two of them, but another part of you wanted this nightmare to end. 

Something in your line of sight caught your eye and gave you an idea. Spinning, you snuck off, deciding upon Option C. 

____________________________________________

“You did fucking what!?” Angel practically choked on his drink. 

“I left them there,” you sipped your Cabernet, letting the tannins dance across your tongue. “Right in the middle of the Entertainment District.”

Angel was laughing so hard he had whiskey coming out of his nose, “I would have paid so much fucking money to see the looks on their faces!” 

“And Vox just let you take his ride?” Husk raised an eyebrow, busying himself with the glasses behind the bar. 

“The Computer Monitor was too busy short circuiting to do anything about it,” you shrugged. And you offered the driver a lot of money. A sum the shark couldn’t refuse. 

“Damn, kid. You got some balls,” Husk shook his head. You know he didn’t approve of the stunt. All it did was increase the magnification on the microscope you had now found yourself under. 

You spun the half empty glass across the countertop, “Hey, where is Alastor anyway?” 

Husk shrugged, cleaning another glass, “Haven’t seen him since you two left this morning.” 

Good. You needed an evening without the overbearing Overlord and his snooping shadow following your every move. Tonight, you could relax. 

“So you gonna take Vox up on his offer?” Angel wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

You stopped your twirling and shot Angel a dumb look. 

“What?” He threw his hands up in defense. “You can’t blame a guy for trying. Especially…” He pulls up Vitter on his phone and showed the both of you the video which had now reached over a million views. “After a declaration such as this.” 

You watched as Vox repeated his mantra and then the video and audio filled with static - Alastor’s doing you assumed - before it cut out completely. Nice trick. You were going to have to figure out how to do that yourself. 

Vox’s words were nice, but coming from an Overlord they just sounded pathetic. Like one of your victims begging for their life before you burnt them to a crisp. 

“I have absolutely no interest,” you turned your nose up. 

“Because of Smiles or…?” Angel winked. 

Your face turned red. “B.. Because of nothing!” You stuttered. “I have no interest in dating or fucking of any kind.” 

Angel did a double take. “We seriously need to talk about your priorities, toots.” 

“Not everything is about sex, you horny motherfucker,” Husk snaps. 

“Wrong,” Angel sang, holding his glass up for another drink. “Everything in the world is about sex, except for sex. Sex is about pleasure.” 

Husk begrudgingly pours himself another, rolling his eyes. 

You snort into your wine. “Did you just misquote Oscar Wilde?”

Angel blinks at you. 

“The quote is ‘everything in the world is about sex, except for sex. Sex is about power,” you correct. 

Angel blinks again, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think that’s right.” 

The two of you laugh, Husk rolling his eyes. 

“But you know what I mean?” Angel shrugged. 

“Uhm,” you hid your mouth in your wine glass. “I don’t actually…” 

Angel looked shocked. “Wait, don’t tell me, you’re a fucking virgin!?”

You finished off the glass royally humiliated. 

“Oh, this is fucking priceless!” Angel hit the bar, wooing in excitement. 

“Here we are!” Charlie kicks open the kitchen door, the bouquet of blue flowers in her hand. She rescued them from the trash can, fixed them up, and found a vase. “Like new!” The Princess places the vase before you, her eyes sparkling in excitement. 

Angel, looked between you and the flowers and burst into a laugh so hard he fell off the stool. 

“Oh my gosh! Are you alright?” Charlie helps him off the floor. 

You turn to Husk and motion for the wine bottle. He gladly gives it to you, his energy matching yours.  

Angel, wheezing, grabs a flower from the bouquet and tucks it behind your ear. You let him, shooting him a dumb look as he continues to laugh. 

“Why?” You huff. 

“Well,” Charlie bites her lip, still trying to process what was happening. “He went through so much trouble that I felt bad!”

Ah, yes, Ms. Bleeding Heart, you forgot.  

There goes the rest of your evening…

____________________________________________

“What? You think I'm fucking lying?!” Blitz cowered behind his desk. “1923, Chicago. Esther Hadassah.” Blitz flipped over a photo and placed it before the Radio Demon. “1937, Lae, New Guinea. Hannah Samuel.” Another photo. “1947, Washington, D.C. Miriam Amren.” Another. “1969, back in Chicago. Phoebe Corinth.” Another. “The last one we have is from 1974, London. Mary Beth Lazarus.” 

Five different photos; five different points in time; five different names, but one woman. All of the women photographed - although, different hair styles and clothing - looked exactly like YOU. 

“This bitch has strong genes!” Blitz awkwardly laughed. “But we haven’t been able to find anything past 1974, yet.” 

Alastor picked up one of the photographs of you in 1947. Your hair was curled into a cute little bob with waves more iconic of the 1930s than the late 40s. You had a large sun hat tipped slightly askew atop your head and a boa wrapped around your neck, which complimented your yellow dress beautifully. Your hair was blonde then, not dyed to silver like it was now, your skin was pink and full of life - you had a human disguise, but your eyes still shined their vibrant gold. You were sitting at a coffee shop reading a newspaper, a young lady sitting next to you, reading over your shoulder, her face hidden behind your hat. 

The hat covered part of your face as well, but he would know those red lips anywhere. 

The demon covered his face with his hand and laughed, an hysteric laugh. “Oooooh, someone’s keeeeeeeping secreeeeeeets.” He sang, a look of pure mania sprawling across his face as the music on his radio fizzled out to static. 

“I’m sorry?” Blitz was thoroughly confused, terror growing in his eyes at the sudden darkening of the room. 

You’ve been dead a lot longer than six years… He laughed again, the room turning green. Oh, Alastor was rightfully irritated after that little stunt you pulled today in the Entertainment District, but now? Now he was pissed.  

In a spark of green flame, the demon slowly burned the photo of you to ash…

Time to go hunting. 

____________________________________________

“Goodnight, guys!” You call over your shoulder, your thoughts muddled and the ache in your feet numbed by the wine. 

You decided you needed a night off from babysitting the Vees. Not like they actually did anything anyway. You owed Mimzy a full headliner in a few nights and were going to need all your energy to get up early to practice before Charlie’s onslaught of trust exercises. How trust falls and circle activities were supposed to get you to Heaven’s door, you didn’t know, but hey, you signed up for this.

So, a hot shower, and a night of jazz awaited you. Or, whatever was playing on the radio, which was almost always jazz. Was that Alastor’s doing or…?

CREAK! 

You spin, static zipping down your spine, but Alastor isn’t there. No one is there. Not even the shadows moved.

SNAP! 

Another sound, from the other end of the hallway this time. Was it getting darker in here… and green? 

AHHH! A scream. 

You spin again, and suddenly, you’re not in the hallway anymore. You’re… in a swamp? 

Crickets chirped in the night as the humidity licked your skin. Gigantic trees cascaded above you and around you, vegetation weeping from its branches as if the trees themselves were melting from the heat. The world was a mixture of browns and greens as the aroma of wildflowers danced across your senses. And stars… Through the canopy you swore you saw stars twinkling in the night. 

You hadn’t seen stars in years. 

In another situation, it would have been beautiful, but then the stars winked out, the world diving into a hue of green, the wind carrying the threat of radio static.  

Alastor’s cackles echoed around you, bouncing off the trunks, making it hard to tell exactly where the demon was. 

“This isn’t real,” you mumbled, the sweat sticking to your skin. “This isn’t real.”

It was a dream - a nightmare - it had to be. Last time the demon had you trapped you woke up in bed. Now, you were passed out drunk in your room, having a nightmare. You had to be. 

A flock of birds takes off behind you, causing you to jump. Where the fuck had Alastor taken you!? This wasn’t Earth - although it looked a whole Hell of a lot like it. A pocket dimension? 

Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! You spun in circles, eyeing the treeline. If he was going to attack, he would have done it already. That or he’s toying with you. Alastor does like his theatrics. 

You debated grabbing a stick and stabbing yourself; pain to wake you up, right? Wrong. That didn’t work last time. Alastor slammed you against the wall in the last dream and then nearly choked you to death - if that wasn’t enough to wake you…

“Oh, don’t look so scared.” Alastor cooed from the darkness. “I just wanted to have a little chat.” The demon materializes from the shadows before you, his smile twisted. You had seen Alastor’s barely contained anger before - in the way he held his shoulders, the tight curl of his lips when he smiled. This Alastor was barely keeping himself together. His eyes continuously flipped from irises to dials, a thread of green stitched across his smile, the antlers atop his head held a few extra prongs on either side. He could barely keep his demonic form contained. 

The demon sings, his hands coming to rest atop the microphone before him. “What’s a chat between friends?” 

You readied yourself. “Is that what we are now?” You were stalling. You needed to stall, to think of some way out of this. Think. Think! Think!

“I don’t know, darling,” he purred, “you tell me.” His static melted into your bones. 

“I’m dreaming. This is a dream.” There, a break in the trees, a glow of artificial light. That had to be something!

Alastor’s eyes sparkled in amusement. “Is it?” 

You take a step towards what you hope is salvation, but the demon melts into shadow and appears behind you. He wraps his arms around your body, his one hand on your throat, the other around your waist. “Mr. Alastor!” Keep up the façade, if this wasn’t a dream you couldn’t risk him finding out who you are. “This is hardly appropriate!” 

Alastor had every intention of confronting you tonight. He had every intention of demanding to know why you were here, at ~his~ Hotel. He wanted to know just how much power you had. You should have more souls than Carmilla herself at this point in time. You should be an Overlord rivaling that of Zestial. Yet you spent your undead years flitting back and forth between here and Earth? He wanted to know why. He wanted to know how. 

The I.M.P. had only recently uncovered such power, but there were others in Hell - most notably the Succubi - who could travel back and forth between the realms. He wanted to know how you had uncovered such power for yourself, being a Human Sinner and all. 

Yet, his eyes landed on the blue flower Angel had put in your hair, and now he couldn’t think straight. He couldn’t think about anything other than Vox and how he stood in the streets of the Entertainment District mere hours ago, holding your hand, trying to claim you for himself. 

He wanted your soul that very first day you stepped into the Hotel. He didn’t know why, he just knew he had to have you. He had to possess you. You had to be his. 

That night in the library when he probed you for your power, he couldn’t stop looking at your neck and the blood thrumming through it. How lovely you would look with a collar wrapped around your throat. How lovely you would look at the other end of a chain. Yet, his mind kept returning to thoughts of your blood. He had licked his lips in anticipation. He didn’t just want to own you, he wanted to taste you. 

Thankfully, you had caught on to his little game and shoved him away. He didn’t know what he would of done had you not. Sure, he was a Cannibal in this life and the one before it, but he never had the urge to devour before. He ate because he liked the power it gave him, not because of the power beheld by his victims. But you? Oh, you smelled divine and he knew you would taste delicious. 

So when he saw you hand in hand with Vox, well… He couldn’t have that now, could he? And then you rode off, disappearing and leaving him and Vox absolutely flabbergasted. You had shown him up. He couldn’t have you showing him up. 

It made him look weak. 

You squirmed in his arms, trying to break free. He clamped down around you harder. With his one hand around your waist, the other went to the flower in your hair. Holding it between his fingers, he summoned his green Hellfire and burnt it to a crisp. 

And then you had the audacity to laugh at him, “Jealous your little boyfriend is moving on?” 

Alastor growled, threatening to bite your head off. Then, something unexpected happened, he felt you suck in a shaky breath. Not because you were afraid - never because you were afraid - but because his growl had turned you on, and your ass was now perfectly aligned with his crotch. 

His cock twitched to life in his pants at the thought, and you both froze. 

Alastor was mortified. This has never happened before. He’s rarely had this ever happen in front of someone else, let alone because of someone else. The demon didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. It had caught him more off guard than it had you. He didn’t…

You ground your ass into his hips.

The demon’s breath hitched, his lips pressing into your ear. You rolled your hips again, and the wave of pleasure it sent through him had his dick hardening. The demon instinctively grabbed onto your hips, not to stop you, but to pull you closer, to give you leverage as you rolled again. 

His breath was shaky in your ear, his body leaning into you. You brought your hands up and went for his hair, threading your fingers behind his head for leverage. 

Something buzzed between the two of you, almost as if Alastor's magic was instinctively reacting to your body. His static reached out to caress your form, making its way up your thighs, over your hips, and curling around your breasts.

A small gasp escaped your lips that had Alastor's blood singing.

On the next roll, the demon moved with you, running his lengthening member up your ass as your hips moved down. 

“Fu.. Fuck,” he breathed into your ear, a wave of pleasure running through his body that had him practically bucking at the knees.

Your head fell back against his chest, your face flush with desire.

Shit, were you enjoying this as much as he was?

The demon spun you around, reaching out to cup your cheeks...

… and you side-kicked him square in the chest, sending him flying backward onto the swampy ground. Then you ran. Zipping past trees, branches smacking you in the face, you ran desperately for that source of light.

You didn’t dare summon any of your magic to get away. If Alastor didn’t already know you were the Shadow, this wasn’t the time to have him figure it out. 

You practically fell face-first onto a wooden floor, having entered a room through a hole in the wall. Yes, definitely a pocket dimension.

Not slowing to look around, you slammed through the door and landed in the hallway of the Hotel, kicking the wood shut behind you. 

Catching your breath, you sat and waited, waiting for the demon to barrel out after you. As you sat there and waited for Alastor to come and kill you, the scent of warm vanilla, orange, and mint hit your nose - coming from you.

Jesus, you smelled like a turned on victim.

The world behind the door remained silent. Not even the crickets of the swamp could be heard. 

“What in the fuck just happened?” Angel stood shell-shocked behind you. He wore a set of pink pajamas, Fat Nuggets tucked sleepily under his arms. The demon looked between you and the door: Alastor’s door. 

He gave you a knowing smile, “Did you hate fuck him?” 

Shit. Not a dream.

"Now kiss" *side kicks you and runs* "I said 'kiss' not 'kick!"

*Yes, that was a Captain America reference! Thought it would be funny to have that as the code for the speakeasy lol

-> Chapter Seven

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

Tag List (Let me know if you want to be added!)

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @goyablogsstuff

[soft-pine]

spn20rewatch 4.04: metamorphosis

ow ouch owie. this episode is so rough.

dean immediately and understandably attacks ruby and she starts strangling him.

one of the last things she said to him was:

RUBY: Oh, oh you – so you're just too stupid to live, is that it? Then fine! You deserve hell! I wish I could be there, Dean. I wish I could smell the flesh sizzle off your bones! I WISH I COULD BE THERE TO HEAR YOU SCREAM!!

(reminder that "I'm sorry, Dean I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy" was actually lilith pretending to be ruby.)

ruby here has every incentive to actually kill Dean. the first seal is broken; if they get lucifer out and michael's down for the count all the better.

and it really makes sense, given everything that happened, that sam didn't want to tell dean about ruby. especially since, as sam says in 4.01, "it was practically [dean's] dying wish" for sam not to continue trying to use his powers. and especially since that's one of the first things that dean (fresh out of 40 years of demon torture and manipulation) asks sam about. of course sam was hesitant to tell him.

but also, of course, dean is totally spun out about it.

dean's initial instinct is to get space; he starts frantically throwing his stuff in a bag and heads for the door.

but sam doesn't want him to go so he grabs dean's arm as he tries to leave the room. dean punches him twice.

i think this scene is often used by sam stans to argue that dean is 1. angry and controlling and 2. so judgmental of sam being "different" that he gets violent about it.

but neither of those things are really happening. for one, dean was actually trying to do something that he often tries to do when he's upset - which is get space to calm down. he doesn't come into the motel room after finding out sam was lying to him about ruby and start a fight or start yelling at sam. he's just trying to get out of there.

it's sam trying to control dean's actions (get him to stay) that finally fully sets dean off.

and is it any wonder that after his time in hell, dean would be so scared and so angry about sam working with a demon. like ruby literally did just actually nearly kill him. and dean is deeply concerned about her motivations (and he's right). it's not about sam simply "having powers."

and while i think punching someone you're angry with is not a very healthy response, it is important to remember that this is something both brothers do with a pretty even dispersal. and that all evidence suggests that the life of violence they were both forced into and the person who raised them are to blame.

sam's response is to plead with dean to try and see his perspective and to trust him. but, as dean points out, what reason does he have to believe sam?

in fact, sam is also lying to ruby it seems. when he first exorcises the demon, he says he's not getting headaches anymore. but when travis calls, sam is clearly experiencing a pretty intense headache. and given that dean heard that exchange, he's probably able to clock that lie as well.

i can't help but be saddened by sam's "I've saved more people in the last five months than we save in a year." something about that is such a knife twist (like i'm not really blaming sam for saying it just saying it must hurt dean a lot). dean's whole life has been dedicated to saving people and, though sam doesn't know it, he's dealing with tremendous guilt for his last ten years in hell. that has got to hurt.

anyway, interestingly, dean's next appeal to get sam to stop relies on what cas said at the end of the last episode.

DEAN: Why did an angel tell me to stop you? SAM: What? DEAN: Cas said that if I don't stop you, he will. See what that means, Sam? That means that God doesn't want you doing this. So, are you just gonna stand there and tell me everything is all good?

dean goes on a journey about his faith and trust in god and the angels over the course of season 4. but i actually don't think he's quite on board with their whole schtick yet. i think he's actually appealing to sam's beliefs from 4.02, when he insisted cas really was an angel and was "one of the good guys" and said god wanted dean to "strap on your party hat." sam has long been the more christian of the two (see 1.07, 2.13, 4.02). and it's interesting to see how dean tries to use this to convince sam, despite dean's less than enthusiastic belief in god.

but okay, enough about the first like 5 minutes, let's talk about some stuff from the rest of the episode.

while driving to meet with travis, dean tells sam about his time in the past. (and finds out sam concealed what azazel showed him in 2.21) but importantly, let's look at how dean talks about mary:

SAM: How'd she look? I mean... was she happy? DEAN: Yeah, she was awesome. Funny and smart. So hopeful.

she's a whole person and he sees it and he knows it; "she was awesome."

i don't have a ton to say about the case they work. i fucking hate travis. and it's always interesting to look at the character of hunters john knew and didn't have a falling out with. travis (refuses to believe monsters are capable of choosing not to kill), martin (willing to kill and innocent woman because he can't believe a vampire wouldn't be a killer), fred jones (gave both dean and sam beer before they were ten), caleb, and pastor jim (but we have a little less information about them, i guess). but it's a pattern that i always feel is informative. john would have had to have hunters friends who wouldn't judge him too harshly for how involved dean (and later sam) were in hunting.

anyway. when travis describes how they'll have to kill the rougarou by burning it alive. dean says:

DEAN: Well, that's gonna be... horrible

i don't know, i just find voice here so cute. (and also the layer that he probably has very intense sense memory of what exactly that would feel and be like... so sad...)

speaking of sad things. this line of dialogue never ceases to haunt me.

TRAVIS: Are you kidding me? You ever been really hungry? I mean, haven't-eaten-in-days hungry? DEAN: Yeah.

the way he says "yeah" with so much emphasis. the way sam doesn't say anything. oh.

anyway, later dean is laid out unconscious on the table and he's nearly the meal. but what else is new.

and i know we talk a lot about dean "i'm not angry, i'm worried" winchester. but here he is:

DEAN: Sam, I wanna tell you I'm sorry. I've been kind of hard on you lately. SAM: Don't worry about it, Dean. DEAN: It's just that your, uh, your psychic thing, it scares the crap out of me.

[multihaven]

okay but am i crazy for having a playlist solely rafe cameron coded or do other people get it?

rafe cameron — a playlist

i am a ‘lyrics’ and vibe person over a ‘beat’ person so this makes sense to me thank yewwww

if you have any song recommendations that you think would be a good addition, let me know please !!!!!!! i love music and i love making playlists for my fav fictional characters

if you wanna see what’s in my jj maybank playlist… 😏

• all of my problems always involve me — $uicideboy$

• antarctica —$uicideboy$

• genesis — $uicideboy$

• kill yourself v — $uicideboy$

• matte black — $uicideboy$

• mental clarity is a luxury i can’t afford — $uicideboy$

• thorns — $uicideboy$

• us vs them — $uicideboy$

• 1000 blunts — $uicideboy$

• carnival — ¥$, kanye west, ty dolla $ign

• red opps — 21 savage

• redrum — 21 savage

• runnin — 21 savage

• glock in my lap — 21 savage

• spiral — 21 savage

• just a lil bit — 50 cent

• everyday — ariana grande, future

• haunted — beyoncé

• iconic — big sean

• bellyache — billie eilish

• blue — billie eilish

• the diner — billie eilish

• i know — big sean, jhené aiko

• rock that body — black eyed peas

• i wanna shoot my friends — blckk

• godzilla — blue öyster cult

• can you feel my heart — bring me the horizon

• band4band — central cee, lil baby

• paranoid — chase atlantic

• pleasexanny — chase atlantic

• molly — chase atlantic

• empty — chase atlantic

• into it — chase atlantic

• triggered — chase atlantic

• 23 — chase atlantic

• drugs & money — chase atlantic

• church — chase atlantic

• what u call that — chase atlantic

• paradise — chase atlantic

• devilish — chase atlantic

• amy — chase atlantic

• doubt it — chase atlantic

• numb to the feeling — chase atlantic

• no rainbows — chase atlantic

• like a rockstar — chase atlantic

• gangsta’s paradise — coolio, l.v.

• insane in the brain — cypress hill

• mascara — deftones

• please please please let me get what i want — deftones

• rosemary — deftones

• sextape — deftones

• syrup sippin — destroy lonely

• every chance i get — dj khaled, lil baby, lil durk

• egg — djo

• agora hills — doja cat

• private landing — don toliver, justin bieber, future

• money in the grave — drake, rick ross

• headlines — drake

• over — drake

• bring me to life — evanescence

• never lose me — flo milli

• pyramids — frank ocean

• super rich kids — frank ocean

• posted with demons — future

• puffin on zootiez — future

• holy ghost — future

• codeine crazy — future

• march madness — future

• type shit — future, metro boomin, travis scott, playboi carti

• like that — future, metro boomin, kendrick lamar

• streets made me a king — future

• lost in the fire — gesaffelstein, the weeknd

• rhinestone eyes — gorillaz

• p power — gunna, drake

• in my room — insane clown posse

• no church in the wild — jay z, kanye west, frank ocean

• bad reputation — joan jett & the blackhearts

• syphilis — juice wrld

• united in grief — kendrick lamar

• swimming pools (drank) — kendrick lamar

• backstabber — kesha

• took her to the o — king von

• no flockin — kodak black

• skrilla — kodak black

• blind — korn

• judas — lady gaga

• norman fucking rockwell — lana del rey

• ultraviolence — lana del rey

• pure cocaine — lil baby

• love me — lil wayne, drake, future

• dreams and nightmares — meek mill

• cyanide — metallica

• around me — metro boomin, don toliver

• hysteria — muse

• supermassive black hole — muse

• come as you are — nirvana

• softcore — the neighbourhood

• daddy issues — the neighbourhood

• slut me out — nle choppa

• gang baby — nle choppa

• ballin’ — partynextdoor

• black out days — phantogram

• money — pink floyd

• evil j0rdan — playboi carti

• wake up f1lthy — playboi carti, travis scott

• sky — playboi carti

• swang — rae sremmurd

• wanted man — ratt

• one call — rich amiri

• breakin dishes — rihanna

• rude boy — rihanna

• taste — sabrina carpenter

• bed chem — sabrina carpenter

• juno — sabrina carpenter

• tale of the missing man — scrim

• whiskey 4 the holy ghost — scrim

• reborn — scrim

• death rides a grey horse — scrim

• red mist — scrim

• brown shuga — sir-mix-a-lot

• lockjaw — sir-mix-a-lot

• walk the night — skatt bros

• nuketown — ski mask the slump god, juice wrld

• bang bang bang bang — sohodolls

• psycho killer — talking heads

• first day out — tee grizzley

• 4x4 — travis scott

• nc-17 — travis scott

• coordinate — travis scott

• nightcrawler — travis scott, swae lee

• my eyes — travis scott

• heathens — twenty one pilots

• sticky — tyler, the creator, glorilla, sexyy redd, lil wayne

• run! — valorant, odetari, lay bankz

• runnin with the devil — van halen

• count up — ventry

• heartless — the weeknd

• after hours — the weeknd

• timeless — the weeknd, playboi carti

• #imsippinteainyohood — xxxtentacion

• that go! — young stoner life, young thug, meek mill, t-shine

[agua-cat]

RELIC HOLDERS , Travis

Let us begin…

Interestingly enough when I first came up with the concept of Travis I refused to read the wiki/watch the episodes and instead went entirely off of my memory- you can imagine that’s resulted in some chaos…

However, I’ve learnt to embrace my slightly non-canon complicit little man and I think you guys will too.

Biography

Born of the Demon Warlock and the Keepers relic holder, Travis was raised in Tu’la (Specifically Enki’s Island). In the beginning, both of his parents were attentive and loving as they were excited to see their son grow.

Things quickly began to change when Travis sprouted small horns atop his head. His mother was distraught, and for an unknown reason completely refused to care for her son after that. Each morning she would leave him by his fathers portal.

The Demon Warlock was not able to physically take care of Travis from the confines of the dimension that held him, but seeing the mistreatment his son was facing just for being a Demon made him angry. Whatever growth the Demon Warlock may have considered in his journey to be a good person now faded as he witnessed the truth before him.

He’d fought for the Demons the Divine Warriors had slaughtered centuries ago, and now he’d fight for his son. Even if it did make Travis a pawn in his twisted game- the game that never ends; eternal power and recognition.

Thus, Travis grew to be morally grey. He helped his father where he could, gladly listening to the whispers of how he would never be good enough. The thoughts consumed him, so did the promise that once his father was free the world would be theirs to run. This resulted in Travis lashing out and trying to break his father free from his inter dimensional prison one night.

By that time, Travis’ mother had found out exactly what was going on. She managed to stop her son in the process, heart breaking as he wept for she was actually speaking to him properly for the first time in years.

She held him in a hug and decided in that moment she should have never cared he was a demon. He was her son, and she loved him more than life itself. Taking him officially under her wing, she tasked him with delivering goods to various villages and with greeting visitors to the island.

Upon Tu’la breaking out into a war, Travis’ mother got concerned about his safety and ordered him to sail to Ru’aun and settle down in a small village so he’d never be found. She told him she’d find him when it was time to return- and so, Travis found Phoenix Drop shortly before the main team went missing for 15 years.

Now

Travis stopped filing down his horns a while ago, allowing them to grow to their natural length. To a demon, their horns are a sign of their power. Unlike many demons, Travis has 4 horns, 2 on each side. The curvature of them a sign of the damage done by filing them town, but otherwise very healthy horns sat atop his head. As well as this, his fingers gradient into black and markings decorate his skin. Lastly, a triangle tipped tail that’s always swishing side to side (and is also Dmitri and Naoki’s favourite thing to grab, despite Travis’ protests)

Travis was forced to absorb Enki’s relic (which he received from his mentor during the 15 years the main cast were gone) when he was put into a cell in the nether and the shadow knights attempted to take the locket which contained it from him. When he was alone, Travis absorbed the relic. Unimaginable power entered him, his life of immortality began, his father’s voice became quieter, his magic felt harmonising and his clothes changed to the robes he wears in the image.

Travis tore a portal open using his new magic abilities and stumbled out into the overworld where he immediately stumbled into Katelyns arms. The rest has been history.

Now restless upon finding out his mother is dying as the relic no longer grants her immortality and his mind occupied about bigger threats like his father, Travis constructed a small room under his and Katelyns house. Often this is where he hides away from them and comes up with the best way to tackle these various issues. His moral compass is once again slipping as the stress of the world feels only on his shoulders.

YAPPING TIME!!

Yeah so , I am aware this is nothing like canon Travis and that’s why I kept putting it off!! I was nervous to see what happened ;;

I renamed his parents- His father is Rían Valkrum and his mother is Céline Auguste.

He often goes by Travis Auguste to distance himself from the Demon Warlock. Auguste is the surname used by those that are direct descendants of Enki, however, so instead he just gets attention for that.

Also I forgot how the format works but hope you enjoy! I’m happy to be back (I’m being so Fr, I promise)

[zvahlne]

CAN U SHOW US THE BRACELETS PLEASEE!! also maybe u could make some dante and travis ones! :)

woagh i wasn't expecting anyone to actually wanna see the bracelets !!! here:) so sorry it took a while, i was having trouble getting decent pictures!

all my mystreet/diaries ones (zane is only mystreet but the others are more of a mix)

(zane, dante, travis, kawaii~chan/nana)

and these are all my my inner demons bracelets! (RHYS SOON I'M SO SORRY RHYS)

(ava, asch, pierce, noi, leif)

i am still open to suggestions of bracelets to make AND! more stuff about the bracelets under the cut:)

tysm for asking about the bracelets!!!!

i have been saving some of the beads used on the zane bracelet for YEARS (for zane)!!! and the blue moon and the green flower were added for garroth and vylad (the purple hearts also have meaning sorry im still a mystreet zanemau shipper) <3 when i made it i didn't really have any black beads so i decided to lean heavy into pink for fun

dante's like my fastest bracelet ever... i just knew Exactly what i wanted on the bracelet. i LOVE the dante one sm. the little pink kitty...<3 AND I JUST NOTICED ONE OF HIS BEADS FOLDED IN THE PICTURE NOOOO but im not retaking it. on the right side the blue bead closest to his name is a smiley face:)

travis' WAS going to say travis, i even spelled it out, but the pull of not-alone-buddies was too strong. he's my buddy:) it doesn't really show in the picture, but there are some purple beads on his!

kawaii~chan/nana's was completely on accident it just happened but it's VERY CUTE so i'm not mad. blue bead is for dante!

and the MiD bracelets:

all the daemos have little pink beads that reminded me of ava! they also all have two of the same silver beads somewhere on them. rhys will have both of these too when i get to him!

leif was the first one i made on accident when i was going to make a laurance bracelet and the rest just followed after that..... his has some old broken/scuffed beads on it because that just made sense. it's also intentionally more asymmetrical than i usually make my bracelets!

asch's was supposed to have a really silly bead on it but i couldn't fit it on:( rip funny bead. i loved how his turned out too much to rework it in, i think it's my favorite of the MiD ones.

ava's says gaslight because she's the gaslight queen and it's very funny to me. there are no demons in her apartment you slammed your head on her door and you made it up. she is a powerful sorceress and if you don't leave her spell room Right Now she'll explode you with her giant novelty pencil. (it also has some little blue beads because. um. pierce/ava my favorites forever)

pierce's says yes because it was funny. funny won. (and he has a little extra pink because. um. pierce/ava my favorite forever). and you can't see it in the picture, but near the bottom is a little butterfly charm that's a personal reference to an old fanart i did lol

i don't have many notes for noi other than i'm surprised how much i like it because orange is my least favorite color. sparkly boy

idk if this was interesting but i put a lot of thought into these and wanted to share some of my favorite things:) thanks for reading!!!

[synergysilhouette]

11 more hot takes/unpopular opinions with DC and Marvel Comics

Originally this was 10, but I had one more to mention. And remember how my first post was Marvel-centric? This one is DC-centric.

Starfire and Arsenal were better Outlaws than Bizarro and Artemis and deserve another shot--I know I phrased this like a fact, but all this is subjective. I find Arsenal and Starfire more interesting characters and enjoy their chemistry with Jason and their romance with each other. I just wasn't crazy about the art we got for their run, nor the blatant oversexualization of Starfire.

2. Harley Quinn and Red Hood are the next-gen Joker and Batman (and I ship it)--I've thought about this forever, but Jason's broody, solitary-except-when-he-needs-to-collaborate nature reminds me of how Batman is commonly depicted, though Jason is a more violent version. Harley, being a whimsical and goofy antihero, thus feels like the next-gen version of her ex (though I understand if you find Punchline or Joker's Daughter as more deserving of that). I'd also love her on an Outlaws team with Jason and Ghostmaker. I also always felt like they'd have better chemistry than the popular Nightwing/Harley ship (which I never really shipped, especially with how they've had Harley sexually harass him in the past). That said, this works best if Harley joined Joker post-Jason's torture.

3. Jamal Campbell is the best cover artist for DC--His Nightwing art has me in a chokehold, and I love it! I also appreciate him making Nightwing curvy without it being from an ogling angle (see #5). That said, his actual work on Nightwing's issues isn't as good, but I think that's a time issue.

4. Travis Moore is the best issue artist for DC right now--I fell in love the moment I saw his work on "Wonder Woman." He's who I'd want as the artist for a "Red Hood and the Outlaws" series with Starfire and Arsenal. Really want him to do Nightwing, Titans, and a Tim Drake solo. Serg Acuna is a close second, but I'm not crazy about how he draws jawlines; they're more angular while I prefer them rounded.

5. DC needs to stop objectifying Nightwing--It's one thing to be sexy; that's cool, and it's something that the subject can (kind of) control. But Dick is constantly objectified and harassed, as well as being the victim of sexual assault on more than one occasion. Personally, I headcanon him "being okay" with the harassment and objectification in-universe due to the trauma of being assaulted and not wanting to make the situation worse, but in any case, he should be a superhero first, sex object second. You can have him be attractive without predominantly being eye-candy; I hate how Harley Quinn's tv show, "Gotham Knights," and "Nothing Butt Nightwing" wanna not only bring attention to him solely for his curves, but make him vain about it just so no one can criticize the harassment.

6. Marvel needs to stop going the demon route with Nightcrawler (especially now)--Given Kurt's kindness and Catholic faith (that fluctuates based on the writer, I guess), his appearance as a blue creature with a tail is mainly for ironic purposes. I hate how every now and then, they like to lean into the demonic angle for him, since it undermines his character SO MUCH. Plus since his birth has been retconned (hopefully for the last time), it makes no sense to connect him with demons.

7. Iceman has fallen out of favor with me--I don't think his solos have been very interesting, and it feels like they've made his sexuality a personality trait. I'd prefer he just stays a team member on an X-team (and eventually date Somnus if Daken is still unavailable).

8. Major X needed a rehaul, but he had potential--I already did a post on this, but the gist is that he needed a new everything: different dad (because not everything has to circle back to the Summers-Grey clan), different powers (because OP telepaths are a dime-a-dozen), a more unique costume in design and color, having a different storyline than "I came to prevent a terrible future," and MAYBE make him from Earth-13729 because I like some of the characters. Basically just keep Storm as his mom, lol. And this isn't a must, but as an advocate for more original LGBT+ characters, making him part of the community would be neat in my book.

9. Russell Dauterman and Lucas Werneck are the best artists at Marvel right now--This is my "argue with the wall" opinion, lol. They've made amazing art, and I wish they'd do the art for every X-Men comic, imo.

10. Where are the Gargareans?--It disturbs me that in the course of 15 months, DC had two storylines about a young man abandoned by his Amazonian mother and being (understandably) bitter about it when he finds out. Not to say everything would've been fixed, but aren't the Gargareans the male counterparts to the Amazons? The circumstance of sons of Amazons being abandoned by their mothers as per the rules of Paradise Island is never resolved despite the son's frustration and hostility. It's just like "oh yeah, that happened. Moving on!"

11. HiC was necessary (just not as it was)--We didn't need a murder plot for this to be good. Booster Gold and Harley Quinn being a duo with cute shenanigans around a serious premise was enough. Let these heroes get therapy once a year (or more; the issue itself could just be annual), and let us see these characters GROW, creating a stricter writing style for writing them rather than the flimsy style superheroes often face with different writers or when publishers go through a change in priority.

Hope you enjoyed this post! Any hot takes you agree with?

[insert-username-here566]

ok, bc of a conversation i had i started thinking about the divine warriors and their relics.

Irene's relic is her very soul. idk how that works but roll with me here.

we know, as confirmed that shads is his and Irene's child. which started the whole rift between them.

but what about the others? what soul gave them this kind of power? we know that a relic must have a strong emotional connection to the host for it to be more powerful and it has to like the host or else it'll fight back like we see with the demon warlock in when angles fall. stay with me when i pitch this.

Enki's relic is his mother. we see with Travis that he is close with his mother in mcd and as far as i'm aware the demon warlock killed her after Travis was born. he's been doing that for generations in Travis's family. i think irene telling her this is to help her son she would follow and give herself to become a relic.

Esmund's relic would be that of Zane. i think Zane was tricked by irene. not told the full truth. i think she lied to him about what she needed/where she was taking him which lead to him being turned against his will. this is also the only way i think zane would have been able to use the relic since i'm 80% sure Garroth got the relic from zane when aaron killed him.

the last two, Menphia and Kul'zak. i can not say what i feel about them because i don't know.

Kul'zak had a soul shard in his tomb in the ruins on the island became the island for the phoenix alliance, so says the wiki.

and there's even less on Menphia. but i always headcanoned Lo as being her descendant of her.

i honestly do no know enough about the two of them to speak on that, so i think i'll either make a new post when i decided more on them or edit this.

[gonedreaminggg]

i am craving disability representation in mcd and mystreet 😭

here i go!

my disability headcanons for MCD/MYS

- Laurance never got his vision back. Not completely, at least. The outer field of his vision is completely blurred, and sometimes it'll randomly get worse/better. In MyS, he's still mostly blind, but he was born with this. It honestly doesn't make a difference in his day to day life because he's so used to it, but he's so pissed that he can't drive.

- Dante has OCD, and he passed the trait down to Dmitri. They both have skin-picking issues as well.

- Naoki (Nekoette) has hyperactive ADHD, which she got from Nana. A lot of people think it's really funny, but when Naoki starts training as a guard, she and other people finally realize how challenging it is.

- Zoey's health starts deteriorating rapidly after giving up her immortality. She has chronic pain issues, and recurring migraines.

- Both MCD and Mystreet Katelyn are hella deaf. Like. Cannot hear for shit. In MyS she wears hearing aids sometimes, but in MCD she's like "WHA?" constantly.

- MyS Vylad is an ambulatory wheelchair user. (honestly i'm just self-inserting for this one lol) they have Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, and use a cane most of the time. They're very active on social media and are a popular disability advocate. It's why they're constantly traveling.

- All of the Ro'meave brothers are hella autistic

- Travis has a lot of chronic fatigue issues because of his demon form and powers and whatnot. When Aphmau gets her relic, and Garroth gets Esmund's, they also have chronic fatigue. The relics are too much energy for a mortal body.

- Levin has hella anxiety. Zoey and Malachai taught him how to manage it over the years. When he becomes Lord, the intensity of the job honestly makes him less focused on his anxieties.

- Malachai still can't function properly as a human. After being brought back to life, he's had a lot of chronic issues, that are honestly all over the place. He also has really bad dissociation, because he was DEAD FOR 900 YEARS.

[laurancezvahlslefteyebrow]

TRAVIS TIME TRAVIS TIME

i had such a hard time drawing him i was so scared i wasn’t doing him justice 😭

headcanon time babeyy

His natural form is a cross between human and demon, naturally. he only allows himself to be like this when he’s alone or with Eseryt. He’s at his most powerful like this (not including demon form), as shapeshifting causes strain if he holds it for too long.

He can shape shift into any living creature, but he cannot turn into specific people.

His father has the ability to enter his mind and puppet him around if his defenses are down. In order for Travis to be weak enough for this, he must have put some strain on his power, like holding his human form for too long *wink wink*

When his father is in control of his body, his eyes turn from green to purple.

Transforming into his demon form puts a great strain on his body, and can be very painful. He only willingly does it if he absolutely needs a power boost.

His mother, Olle Valkrum, was trained her whole life to fight the Demon Warlock. He had been feuding with her family and their island since Enki’s time. Olle, being a descendant of Enki himself.

The Demon Warlock one day disguised himself as a man named Micheal and whooed Olle. He spent months gaining her trust as Micheal, while simultaneously fighting her as the Demon Warlock as to not draw attention. Eventually Olle became pregnant and gave birth to Travis. Appalled at this inhuman creature she created, this is when Micheal revealed himself to be the Demon Warlock all along. Olle raised Travis to the best of her abilities, training him the same way she herself had been trained, until one fateful day when she lost her life.

Shortly after everyone returned from the Irene Realm (which he of course had no idea about), he started having dreams of a girl with red hair and a scarred face. He could interact with her, but he could not touch, speak to, or hear her.

A while after the dreams began, he came across this very girl in the woods one day. Assuming it was a trick by his father, he rushed her. Though later she revealed herself to be Eseryt Yrva, a girl who’s group crashed on Enki Island and were just looking for a way out.

He and Eseryt eventually became very close and romantically involved. No Travlyn doesn’t happen (sorry guys). It never felt right to me. Not only was Katelyn always mean to Travis, but I’ve always thought she was a lesbian. (She is in my rewrite)

Travis is NOT a creepy perv!!! He’s just socially awkward and doesn’t understand social norms or ques. He doesn’t have much of a filter and will often unintentionally make people uncomfortable or offend them, though he always means well.

His lack of filter is part of why Es likes him. He’s honest, which is rare.

He’s a lot smarter than he lets on, or that people give him credit for. He has a lot of time to himself, which he spends reading and researching. He also is an incredibly skilled fighter and survivalist.

He’s never been fond of fighting. Much more preferring things like reading, writing, and painting. He’ll paint or write about whatever he sees around him.

Once he learns certain social norms and ques, he sticks to them religiously. He only wants to make people feel ok and safe around him.

He’d sacrifice himself for the people he cares about in a heartbeat a thousand times over and over again. trait he gained from his mother.

Travis was born female but shortly after he was born, he physically shifted to male and stayed that way. He can shift between male and female (or neither/both) at will, but prefers to present as male.

He generally uses he/him but doesn’t mind they/them. But please not It. That makes him feel more disconnected from his human side.

[shitswiftiessay]

jesus fucking christ.

when i tell you swifties are the most OBNOXIOUS little shitstains who will literally look for ANYTHING to demonize joe alwyn for because they can never shut the fuck up about taylor’s ex despite being so “happy” about taylor’s new man and believing they are endgame.

joe alwyn has weird energy because he didn’t pose for these stupid sorority girl with her boyfriend + high school prom esque cringe PDA pictures?

travis is the one coming off with “weird energy” here (because he looks like he’s being fucking held hostage in these pda pictures, and god bless him he’s probably being hounded for an engagement as well).

also, why the ever loving fuck does your powerful goth punk feminist queen, the 34 year old billionaire, need a MAN to LET her be herself?? why can’t she just BE HERSELF instead of adopting the personality traits of whoever she’s dating at the time?

[reicraft]

Golden Mangos

Aphrodite!Fem!Reader x Travis Stoll

Summary: after a certain incident you can’t help but start liking mangos a bit more, and maybe a certain camper as well.

Contains: fluff, characters can be ooc, usual Stoll sibling antics, some swearing, kind of cringe lines ngl

A/N: I love this small prank the stolls pull on the Aphrodite cabin and it inspired me to write this fic. Hope you guys like it. Reqs are open <3. Also I hate mangos idk what demon possessed to write a character that loves them.

Word Count: 2.5k

If there is one thing your cabin mates knew about you, it is your strong affinity for mangos–or, as Drew likes to call it ‘an extreme obsession’. Another fact was that, for some odd reason, camp didn't have mangos. Well not least you bribed a Dementer kid to grow some or got a Hermes child to bring you one from the outside. Sometimes, you would even go back home during winter break just to be able to enjoy some sweet mangos, even if they weren’t in season. Your dad always spoiled you rotten with everything, from actual mangos to mango lip gloss. So, it came to your sibling's surprise that there you were eating half a mango for breakfast. Lost in your world without a care for the burning eyes watching you. 

“How exactly did you get that?” asked Piper, munching on  her bowl of strawberries, “One of the boys from cabin 4” You replied oh so casually.

 “Y/N, you can't just use your charmspeak casually,” complained Mitchell. Unlike Piper and Drew, you tended to use your charmspeak for more trivial things. If your mother gave you a gift, it was to be used, and maybe you did use it for small things like getting out of archery or another serving of strawberry shortcake. Maybe it wasn't the best use of such power, but it came in handy, overall being blessed with beauty had its perks. 

“It's fine I was just craving some. Plus the Hermes kids haven't made their trip yet, so something had to be done,” you said, cleaning off the dripping juice. It might have been the best mango you have eaten if it weren't for your siblings shooting daggers at you. “Well, at least I'm not using my charmspeak to manipulate a cabin,” you continued. 

“It's been months, let it go, please,” said Drew, now getting slightly annoyed by you. But who could blame you? You were slightly annoyed at this conversation yourself. Couldn't a girl enjoy her mango in peace?

“Anyways we have archery practice, so don't charmspeak your way out,” said Piper, looking directly at you.

“Hey, it was like three times, I was tired,” you defended yourself, putting your hands up. Despite the occasional squabbles, you did love all your siblings. Yes, maybe you had petty fights like Valentina stealing Drew's crop top or Mitchell using Noah’s cologne. But nothing extreme. At the end of the day, the power of gossip and love united, making you a happy little family. 

So as you all enjoyed your archery class led by Kayla from the Apollo cabin, playfully pointing arrows at each other and cheering Lacy on as she hit a bullseye, you failed (more like didn't expect) to notice two mops of curly brown ran past you, making a beeline for a certain pink cabin tip-toeing in and out, leaving the object in their hands giggling at their prank. 

So, as your cabin finished the lesson and made your way for a quick break, you didn't expect to see a golden mango with ‘for the hottest’ written on it.

“Aw, I love it when people leave things for me,” said Drew, picking up said mango ready to add it to her infinite collection of love letters 

“Well it doesn't say for who it is,” said Mitchell. 

“Maybe it's for me,” said another one of your siblings. 

“I'm the hottest I don't know what you're talking about” interjected your sister.

“I was told I rival my mom's beauty,” you added.

 “She's OUR mother too,” started Piper. 

Your banter slowly turned into actual fighting, screams echoing outside the cabin as glass bottles shattered. 

“That was my only bottle left, you bitch” screamed Drew as Valentina threw her perfume to the ground. It didn't stop there, as shoes and  clothes flew out the window, landing in the mud

 “Mom gave me that belt, Mitchell,” cried one of your brothers, as said belt was now covered in gross mud, lost forever.

 “Oh my gods, why could you cut up my Miu Miu sweater? that was expensive,” you sobbed as one of your sisters started cutting up clothes nearby. 

Safe to say, the cabin was no longer the organized place that always got a 5, it looked worse than the Hermes cabin, with tattered clothes mixed with spilled makeup and perfume covering the floor. 

“What in gods name is this?” You all looked like deers caught in headlights once Chiron stepped foot in the cabin.

 “They started it,” everyone said simultaneously, pointing in different directions.

“Actually, I believe I found the perpetrators outside. Still, kitchen duty for all,” he said, galloping outside as said perpetrators peeked into the cabin 

“We did well with this one, Trav,” said conner snickering. 

“You'll pay for this Stolls'' screeched Drew. Suddenly, seventeen angry children of Aphrodite ran towards the siblings. Yes they had pulled hair and spills all over their clothes, but they didn't care about appearances at the moment, especially you, who would waste such a good mango just like that, plus you were still mad about your sweater, you had planned on wearing it for the bonfire later.

 Fortunately, some form of revenge was taken as pasty white foundation appeared on Travis's face, making him look like a clown, and Connor’s clothes instantly shrunk two sizes smaller. You would say he was rocking the crop top, but it honestly just looked funny. 

All of the cabin stood there in a circle, scowls on their faces and some laughing at the sight, as you broke through your teared-up sweater still in hand.

 “Nemesis is a bitch I guess” said one of your sisters as you threw your sweater at Travis's face. “You're lucky we’re being nice to both of you,” you said, quickly storming off back to your cabin. Now who was going to clean all of this up?

It took most of the cabin all day until dinner to clean up all the broken glass and fabric left on the floor, as well as clean some of the muddy designer shoes. 

“I'm sorry Y/N. I know you loved that sweater,” said your sister. It was more than just an extremely expensive sweater to you, your father had gifted it to you as a birthday present. It wasn't often you got to see him only during winter break on occasion. It was a small piece that tied you back home, and now it was destroyed.  

“It's fine. Maybe I could get a new one” you lied through your teeth. Even a new sweater couldn't replace the damage done, and you swore upon your mother and Nemesis that you would get your revenge on the Stolls. Maybe you could make them fall in love with a frog or cause someone to break their heart. Anything at the moment seemed like a better revenge than their permanent makeup and clothing curse placed by your siblings. You were just so mad you couldn’t fathom it all. 

It all just got you in a terrible mood. You were sure your anger and bitterness could turn the campfire black. And there you were, getting ready for said campfire with no sweater on, and your favorite mango balm was also a small victim of your sibling's anger. You sat at dinner sulking, not speaking to anyone, trying to eat your mango, thinking it could cheer you up but it didn’t. It just made you angrier at the Stolls, especially Travis with his cheeky smile as you threw him your destroyed sweater. Granted, it might have been the clown makeup, but still. 

And you continued to sulk during the campfire, not singing along and sitting slightly apart from your siblings. Most of them had made amends at this point, but you just acted like it. Who could blame you for being petty? It was only justified. You were so entranced in your own emotions that you failed to see the person sitting next to you, yet the small gift placed on your lap didn’t go unnoticed.

 “I heard from Gwen about your sweater,” he said, looking down at the floor “I’m sorry about the whole ordeal, really.” 

You sighed as you looked towards him “Travis you know I can’t get that makeup off of you,” you said. You were sure whatever this gift was it was probably bribery, and your anger couldn’t let you see past that. 

“Maybe you should open it first. I kind of left camp for this and paid for it,” he said, finally looking back at you. You tried your best not to laugh at his face, but he did look ridiculous with the clown makeup.

 You opened the gift carefully, revealing a pink sweater almost exactly like the one you lost. You gasped as you looked back at Travis, “I know it’s not Moo Moo.” 

“Miu Miu,” you corrected. 

“Yeah that. But still I wanted to replace it. I know it doesn’t have the same meaning, I'm sorry, really,” his apology seemed sincere, and you couldn’t dictate lies between his words. 

“Thanks, but what about the rest of the things my siblings lost?” You weren’t wrong. If he wanted to apologize, he should’ve been replacing all the things lost in this ‘prank.’ 

“Well, it’s not like they like mangos,” he said ever so casually, confusing you.

“Excuse me?” 

“Yeah, you know there’s only one person in that cabin that likes mangos. It was a golden mango,” he got up and just left, winking at you as you stayed there processing his words. You would’ve laughed at his face, but even with the gods awful makeup, he looked cute, and you could almost feel your heart skip a beat as to what he was insinuating. But still, you didn’t understand what exactly he was trying to tell you. He left you there dumbfounded, trying to understand your feelings at that moment.

Being a daughter of Aphrodite, you could be pretty oblivious when it came to your feelings. You knew instantly if someone had a crush on another person, yet you couldn't understand why your heart beated so fast around the Hermes boy. You chalked it up to the ridiculous makeup he had, considering you found clowns creepy, but it still felt different. Suddenly, you didn't feel like skipping archery class anymore if it meant the Hermes cabin was going to be there, or putting a little bit more effort into your appearance each morning. You even wore your pink sweater religiously, as if it was the only item of clothing you owned. 

Your siblings were not as oblivious as you, they knew about the secret glances during breakfast or how your voice went up an octave when you spoke to him. But in true aphrodite cabin style, they watched from afar, seeing a love story form right before their eyes. And it wasn't hard to push you guys together, you seemed to always unconsciously follow him around, excusing it by saying you wanted to be more involved in camp. 

“Y/N could you take over arts and crafts for me today? I’m kind of busy with some other things,” asked Mitchell. He was free, but you did need to know that, and being the understanding sister that you were, you agreed. But your dear brother forgot to mention one slight detail: it was all the younger campers, which you couldn't stand sometimes, and that it was an arts and crafts session with the Hermes cabin.

 So, it came as a surprise to see a familiar mop of curls sitting at a separate table from the rest of the campers, making his own friendship bracelets. And it seemed to be a surprise to Travis too, fixing his hair and discreetly checking his breath once he caught a glimpse of you. 

“I thought Mitchell was helping today,” he said, pulling the chair next to him. You sat down fixing your hair too. 

“Actually, he is busy today, so I'm covering,” you explained, avoiding his eyes. His clown makeup long gone, you finally were able to appreciate his blue eyes and elvish features.

 “I’m glad you like the sweater,” he said, breaking the silence between you too. You had forgotten you were wearing it; it was muscle memory at this point. 

“Yeah, it's nice. Thank you so much,” you said, trying to hide the blush creeping on your face.

 “I'm glad you like it. I had to play poker with some of my siblings to buy it,” he said, and as your mouth dropped, Hermes boy’s were known for shoplifting once in a while, and you had assumed that was the case. But with the simple fact he went through all that trouble to get you a sweater made your heart flutter, you couldn't ignore it anymore: you had a crush on Travis Stoll and he had a crush on you. 

You kind of knew about the boy's feelings, being one of the many gifts blessed upon you by your mother. Yet for a whole month, you were in denial of your feelings. How could you like someone who played such a prank on you and your siblings? Or who always had a stupid smirk on his face to pair up with his cocky personality? Yet, you couldn't help it, your heart secretly longed for him. 

“You didn't have to go through so much trouble for a sweater, you know,” you said, grabbing some thread to make your bracelet.

“I know, but I wanted to make things right,” he said smiling at you. 

"You should've replaced Mitchells cologne, aren't you guys friends?” you said, not looking at how his smile slowly faded. 

“We are friends, but I wanted to make things right with you,” you couldn't help but smile at his words as butterflies started to form in your stomach.

“Why with me though?” Travis groaned, running his hand over his face. “I thought you were a daughter of Aphrodite” he said, with slight annoyance laced in his words 

“I am, but that still doesn't answer my question,” You finally looked up at him holding back from laughing in his face.

 “Because you're you, and I… don't you get it Y/N?” he said, stumbling over his words.

“Gods don't make me spell it out, this is so embarrassing,” the young campers long forgotten as they left both of you alone. ��I like you. Gods, the mango was meant for you, there's only one person in that cabin that eats mangos like she can't live without them,” he spilled out, feeling a weight lift off his chest 

“I knew,” you said. You couldn't help but smile, it was only you ever wanted to hear from him, ever since he sat next you at that campfire.

“You knew!?” 

“Trav I can sense when someone has a crush, I just wanted you to say it,” now it was his time to blush at the sound of his name leaving your lips. 

“And I guess the feelings are reciprocated” you finished off, looking directly into his eyes. 

“So, will you go out on a date with me?” he asked, smiling so wide it hurt his cheeks. 

“If there's going to be mangos, then yes I would love to go on a date with you,” you responded. It felt like time stopped, and it was only you and Travis in that moment, looking at each other's eyes stuck in your bubble of love. 

[garroth-is-done]

Got any good MCD Travis headcanons?

I have a few about him! Here you go:

He's much older than presumed in canon, roughly 250 years old when he meets aph and crew

Travis is very open about the fact that he's the demon warlock's son. He's old enough and strong enough (both magically and physically) that no one can really hurt him; the only one able to do so is Hyria, and she wouldn't because she knows that he's not a threat to anyone who doesn't deserve it

He is still the reincarnation of Enki despite actively using his demonic powers. Enki was always a god that was a lot more... morally gray, lets say; when it came to types of magic people could use and practice. He wasn't opposed to doing necromancy or using human sacrifices. He was judged heavily for this and is thus one of the less worshiped gods

MCD Travis is aroace, but would love to be in a queer platonic relationship

He becomes very close to Aphmau as time goes on and she becomes like a sister to him, with her kids calling him "uncle travis"

thats all I have for now, but hopefully I'll have more someday!

[jivvie]

OKAY OKAY UH REAL QUICK

This post is mainly about the Her Wish Christmas Special. Whether it’s canon or not, it’s obvious it takes after season 6 events and possibly season 7, whenever Aaron gets his memory back. We see MCD Alina visit the two of them, and this is obviously in the future.

However in s6, ep 11, Alina mentions she was able to visit MS Aphmau (in her wish) and then learned of Aphmau’s fate and decided to help her in some way by giving up part of her life to resurrect her. But how is it possible that Alina was able to meet the MS Aphmau (post s6) in the “happy” timeline if the events/Irene’s choice didn’t happen yet? Alina is 15 when HW happens and is an adult in s6. Irene giving Alina’s life to Aphmau affected the timeline no matter what, and without Aphmau being revived, NONE of the other things would happen in Her Wish.

Unless this is some weird time paradox where it was written as fate and Aphmau was destined to live happily ever after, I don’t understand how this lines up? But besides that, let’s say it’s a time paradox thingy, I have a guess of where Her Wish could fit into the MS timeline. Right between season7 and season 8.

OKAY LETS THINK. One of the things that stands out to me the most is the awkwardness between Slyvanna and Aphmau and then Aaron not remembering Dante.

in my analysis post (WHICH WILL COME OUT I SWEAR), I mention that I believe Aphmau will heal Aaron with her powers. She’ll be able to fix but not completely restore most of his memory, which is why when Aaron opens the door for Dante, he doesn’t remember him closely. As for Aph and her mom, you would think that if Her Wish was the VERY END of the MS Timeline, their relationship would be at least fixed or not awkward. If s7 takes place right after s6 and Aphmau focuses on healing Aaron, there might not be much time to talk between Aph and her mom.

This could also tie into s8 being called “One Last Time” (there’s a connection confirmed by Jess and Jason in Write it Out’s vidcon experience) as well as the snowy mountains. S4 took place on Bunny Hill in the winter (around February) and I think the s8 teaser takes place in a similar area. Nevertheless, they are both placed in the winter time, right after a Christmas/News Years Special.

ALSO WE DONT SEE TRAVIS AT ALL WHICH COULD MEAN: Travis is held back by the GF (especially because he is a Valkrum and directly was possessed by the demon warlock) meaning no content in s7 OR HE DIES SO…

Anyways this is why if Alina is wolf girl for season 8, Her Wish can’t be placed at the end of the Mystreet Timeline because Aphmau would definitely recognize her and it can’t really be Alina if she was younger because Her Wish is her first time meeting MS Aph and Aaron. If I’m right about HW being placed between s7 and s8, Aph could recognize it being Alina but younger (????) but still, I’d like to think this a new entity to the MS realm, one that isn’t MCD related because boy we got a lot of MCD stuff.

BUT ALSO IN REWATCHING VOID PARADOX, VP APHMAU IS LIKE A NANNY/MOM TO THIS TEENAGE KID SO IDK IF ITS HER MAN 💔

[fraugwinska]

Chapter 22 - Negotiation

Negotiation (noun) 1. the process of discussing something with someone in order to reach an agreement with them 2. the action or process of transferring legal ownership of something 3. a dialogue between two or more parties to resolve points of difference or gain an advantage for an individual or collective

Tags&Warnings: Depictions (and results/injuries) of Domestic Abuse & SA, Manipulation & Intimidation

Valentino loved a lot of things. For example, he loved the smooth feeling of latex and leather on his skin, he loved the way he felt powerful when he could orchestrate a whole army of cocks and pussies to enact his visions into a movie that sells out in a few minutes alone and loved the dizziness his pheromonic cigarettes enveloped his ever-stirring brain in. He also loved Vox, in a weird sense. 'Possessive' could be a word to describe this particular strand of his love, although he never cared to sit down and overanalyze - he left that to the other Vees. But a fact was a fact, Valentino hated to share Vox and the feeling had gotten infinitely worse after that whole, ridiculous 'thing' his partner had for the Radio Demon had blown up in his flat-screened face all those years ago. Despite what others thought about him, Valentino’s head wasn’t hollow, rather than it was overflowing with emotions and thoughts alike. And now, he felt very conflicted. His mind was racing a million miles an hour, conflicting impulses battling out for the better choice. He could follow his instincts and snatch up the easiest solution, his favorite way to handle things, to end whatever stupid little problem Vox had with the cunt from Velvette’s viral video by force and let the other two handle the consequences – or be clever, subtle, manipulative as he once was and play along in hopes of scratching an itch he had felt for decades.

"Boss, Angel's here, but he's not alone. He brought..." "Yeah, yeah, I know, so shut the fuck up, Travis, and bring them to me already."

He watched his owlish, bootlicking underling (Trevor? Timon? Ugh, who cared anywayy?) retreat like a dog that got its nose in the pisspot a second time and Val rolled his eyes in annoyance, taking a last deep drag before the snipped his cigarette, burnt down to its last bit, off his long holder, just to place a fresh, more potent one in its place.

He knew Vox had his own, dumb scheme planned and though he was slick using him for it, thinking Val wouldn't notice. Or wouldn't care. But as always, Vox seemed to tune out Valentino’s own lingering feud with Alastor. The name alone tasted bitter in his mouth, and he hated bitter things. Too much of that dios abandonado deer prick lived in his partners head rent-free, taking up space that Val knew should be owned by him. Fucking was one thing, and Val knew he had sovereign rights over every goddamn part of Vox's body - some were fucking designed by him, for fucks sake! But his mind, that was still pocketed by Alastor - maybe it wasn't that sick adoration anymore, or obsession as it had been, but Val knew best that hate and love were twins, only separated by context, and as much as Vox would deny it until the day he got reset and sent straight back into double-hell, Val always caught those small hints of jealousy or bitterness, the short circuits, the overbearing zaps that flowed through Vox's entire, miserable being whenever he heard or saw something of his rival. It made his insides burn with passion, with the desire to reclaim what was supposed to be his all along and what Alastor robbed from him without even wanting it.

Valentino wasn't the kind of overlord to plan ahead for the long game. What he felt in the moment was what he would act on, and at this moment, it was no different. He decided he didn't care for what Vox was up to, but he'd follow him. If only to use this opportunity along the way for himself, to fuck with Alastor and his pretty, little pet. And if there was one thing Val had to admit in favor of the hated overlord, it was that opportunities were plentiful whenever Alastor was around.

“Remember your training and stay at my side, dear. You will not leave my sight and whatever I command you to do, you’ll do without the need for discussion, do you understand?”

Alastor’s voice was low and quiet as you followed behind Valentino’s unpleasant worker that introduced himself briefly as 'Travis' as he guided you to the elevator.

"Yes, Sir." You nodded, tense and anxious, focused on keeping your face a mask of indifference. You knew this was a huge concession on Alastor's part, bringing you here to help Angel and strike a deal with the rumored prince of porn. Sure, you've only met Val once in passing, but from the impression alone and what Angel told you about the overlord in both words and reactions, you dreaded to be in his presence any longer than needed. In a way, you had forced his hand, and the guilt you felt about that fact still twisted your insides, despite your logical reasoning from before. But he was here, with you, and you'd be damned if you would repay his allowance by disobeying him.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­ The Evening before

"...so yo' see his dilemma. It's either him gettin' on the chopping block, or it's you who's going into the slaughterhouse... an’ he’s dead set on keepin’ yo’ out of Val’s grasp."

You sat there, in silence, staring into your half-emptied cup of the sweet, slightly burning drink, the reflection of the golden liquid as the last glow of hell's sun disappeared behind the horizon and Husk ended his broken-down explanation. A strong, rough voice inside growled, raging against the borders of your mind. I'm going to kill this fucking cockroach.

"I still don't understand - how does Valentino even know who I am? I mean, what am I to him? He never met me, and I doubt Angel would've talked about me at work if he's willing to endure this...", you searched for words that didn't taste like bile in your mouth, "...treatment, just to protect me."

Husk scratched his neck, the ruffling sound of his fur almost drowned out by the soft static emitting from your side. "Listen, I ain't no expert, and neither is Angel. But he told me Vox was with him when he threatened Ange, and yo' know..." Husks eyes flickered to Alastor, then back to you, "I wouldn't be surprised if he got some unfinished business with... y'all."

Alastor let his tumbler, now void of the whiskey it held just moments ago, slam down on the counter, tutting with annoyance as the glass cracked in his grasp, the sharp edges pressing into his palms as the shadows around him began to swirl and sizzle. "How awfully dull and unimaginative of him. Figures that he'd manipulate his short-sighted mockery of a boy-toy to do the grunt work – he has always been like that."

Something in his tone made you uneasy. He had never sounded so... appalled, almost hurt. You knew that he despised Vox, but in lieu of an explanation you never would've dared to demand, you just deducted that it was because of the natural rivalry between two similar yet opposing medias they both represented. Innovation against Preservation. Vulgarity against Gentility. Video against Radio. Now though, you weren’t so sure of that anymore, thinking that it might be much more personal than that.

"How do you know..." Alastor's gaze, previously fixed on the empty cup, snapped back to yours. A warning hung in between you - that it was for him to know, and for you to stop talking and drop it. You felt your ears fold back before you even saw Husk's worried look, as  Alastor rolled his shoulders back, lifting the weight of the quietly roaring shadows that had darkened the edges of your vision and let you remember to breathe again.

"It's of no matter anyways. It's not as if you're going."

Alastor sounded so final you bit your lip. It was clear that he wouldn't budge, and you were aware of what you swore to him. Loyalty. You've never had a hard time sticking to this vow before. Anything he demanded you had done without question or hesitation, not just because of the clause but because you, as twisted as it maybe was, always understood his reasons. And even though your heart felt a little sting at the thought, because he had been your sole focus, the master you trusted and one of the two only souls in hell you knew and cared about. But now there were more. There was Niffty, and Husk, and Charlie, even Vaggie... And Angel, your friend. Angel, who was willing to suffer for you, Willing to sacrifice his one night of proving to himself and all of hell's finest that he was more than 'just' a pretty face ruined in adult movies... Angel...

"I could at least try to..." "No. You can't."

"She can't what?"

Never before were you relieved to hear Vaggie’s sharp voice behind you. Alastor turned, the chair scraping across the floor as he faced the two girls, one with a suspicious, narrowed look, and the other a nervous, curious gaze. You and Husk stayed where you were, yet you shifted on your seat to watch as Vaggie folded her arms and Charlie, her hands full with steaming pizza cartons, took a step forward in a futile attempt to maybe act as a buffer between the two of them.

"Just a little hitch in our event planning, dear. Our esteemed resident has decided to forfeit his participation at the gala..."

Now it was Alastor's turn to be interrupted. Charlie almost let the grease-soaked cartons fall, before stumbling forward and almost squishing them onto the bar counter. "Angel dropped out? Why? He was so excited?! I just talked to him this morning, gave him some pointers for his costume."

"(Y/n) can't what, Alastor?" Vaggie asked again, ignoring Charlie's question. She hadn't changed her posture, her face set and unreadable.

"Nothing to fret over, really, we already..."

'Angel is in trouble and I' the one that could help him.' That's what you wanted to say. You felt your canine that bit into your lip slowly breaking the delicate skin, could taste the iron mingle on your tongue with the words under the girls stare. But if Alastor was set on his decision, then you'd break every trust he had in you and promise you made him. Aside your binding words. 'I'll give you my soul and loyalty to do as you please.'

"Val's blackmailin' him." Husk's voice was deep and steady as three pairs of surprised and one of furious eyes watched him, even though you felt what he most certainly did. Alastor’s static sending almost painful jolts in pulses his way, licking over your dangling legs in the process. But Husk didn't stop, taking your almost empty glass out of your hands, his paws squeezing your black fingers ever so slightly. Your eyes widened at the realization. He was taking the hit.

"He lets Angel work triple his load – makin’ him do disturbing shit no less - and made him cancel on us unless he gets to meet (Y/n) for who-knows-what. Nothin' good, if yo' ask me."

Charlie looked as if she was slapped in the face, her mouth opening and closing, the redness of her eyes intensifying as her hair began to flow around her. Vaggie, on the other hand, had her eyes trained on the radio demon, who hadn't moved a single inch, save the ever-present grin that stayed in place.

"That slimy, no-good, perverted...!" Charlie seethed, trying to calm herself. "How long has that been going on?"

"Don't know." Husk said. He had placed Alastor's empty, cracked tumbler away, the glass rattling as he let it fall in the trash. "He just came home an absolute wreck. Needed a strong drink, so I did my job. After two of them, he started to spill... Hasn't told anyone 'till now."

"And (Y/n) wants to help." Vaggie said, more a statement than a question. She looked at you, her expression becoming somewhat softer, before returning to Alastor with a renewed, hard stare. "And you won't let her?"

"Absolutely not." Alastor said, tightening the grip of his hands behind his back. "If you haven't noticed it yet - Valentino, as repulsive and vile as he is, is still an overlord. You might not like it - but manipulation and coercion is what got him in the so-called business he is in."

"Oh, and you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" Vaggie spat, her hair starting to bristle as she took a step forward, balling her fist at the sight of Alastor's growingly frustrated, manic grin.

"Vaggie..." Charlie said, her tone a warning, and Vaggie backed down, although visibly reluctant, her face twisting in anger. The princess put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, her face a mix of determination and pleading as she turned to the radio demon.

"Alastor, I get that you want to protect (Y/n) - it's actually kinda... sweet?" She ignored the snort and scoff coming from the moth and the cat respectively and continued, giving Alastor a weak smile. "But this is exactly what the hotel is supposed to do, right? Help people! If we don't step up for Angel now, how are we supposed to make a difference?"

She wrung her hands, her brows furrowed in an effort to find the right words. "I... We can't stand idly by when Angel gets extorted by that sleazeball, and being robbed of this experience - as small and insignificant as it may seem to you. I know it meant a lot to him."

She shook her head, looking almost apologetic as she added, her voice softer, more pleading "He needs us, Al. Needs us to show him that he is worth being helped, being protected, being cared about."

Charlie was so genuine in her words, the passion with which she spoke making her voice shake. And while her speech was superficially directed at the tall demon before her, you couldn't help but feel that she secretly spoke to yourself.

"I... would like to at least try." You decidedly avoided looking at Alastor as you talked quietly.

"Please, si... Alastor." You finally met his red gaze, and your voice was a whisper. "Have some trust in me."

For a moment, no one said anything. Vaggie's frown had disappeared, and Charlie held her breath, her hands clasped in front of her as she stared at the deer-demon. Husk's paws were resting on the bar top, his gaze fixated on his claws as they flexed. You felt Alastor's stare boring into you, and while his expression hadn't changed, his aura felt tense, almost angry.

"I do." His voice was sharp and cold, but his eyes softened a fraction, the corners crinkling. "But we can't have you go into that cesspool of depravation by yourself and..." he said, cutting off Charlie, who instantly opened her mouth to offer to accompany you, with a wave of his hand, "...no offense, Charlotte, but despite your regal status you are quite poorly equipped to handle the likes of Valentino. No, this negotiation requires exceptional finesse and cunning."

He turned to you, his expression both determined and challenging as he twirled his cane before slamming it into the ground, resulting in a single, long crack in the floor.

“Fortunately enough, I can pride myself in both.”

As the three of you stepped inside the elevator, the owl sinner deeply immersed in whatever was on his mobile phone and the doors closed, Alastor's hand moved from your lower back and came to rest on your shoulder, nodding a few inches to his left. You didn't move your head, but from the corners of your eyes you saw a security camera built into a seam in the mirrored wall move, swiveling its lens.

"Voyeuristic piece of scrap metal." you hissed under your breath, the staticky chuckle that came as a response relieving some of the strain on your neck as Alastor’s thumb slightly caressed over the pulse point on your jugular as he leaned a little closer to you. "Pay him no mind, darling. It's his sad fate after all - Always to watch, never to touch..."

The lights flicker for just the blink of an eye - Alastor's tone had been edgy and somewhat teasing, his sharp canines showing in the quick curl of his lips. Travis flinched, quickly closing the application he had been so absent-mindedly scrolled on and looked around with a panicked expression. "Shit, goddamn, what was... sorry, did y'all say something?"

Alastor waved dismissingly to the advertisement poster hanging in a display on the side of the cabin - all three Vees, in pompous outfits, promoting ice pops in their likelihood - and laughed jovially. "Just admiring the very... unique artwork displayed. Makes one think that the lines between tacky and tasteless blur all too quickly, don't you agree?"

Travis's eyes went back and forth between his razor-sharp smile and the poster. "Um, sure. Whatever. I'm not paid enough to have an opinion anyway."

The loud 'Ding' announcing your arrival ended all further interactions. As the doors slid open you stopped breathing for a moment, a heavy, sweet and almost sticky stench invading your lungs and nose. Pink smoke lingered over the floors in thick clouds, almost like a fluffy carpet, creeping into the cabin almost wrapping itself around your legs and Alastor huffed, smile tensing. It felt as if it was slithering up your shins, the skin underneath it prickling.

"Welcome to VeeProductions Headquarters, please sign a consent form before viewing the premises!" A metallic voice crackled through the silence, causing all three of you to drop your heads as a tiny, robotic girl in some sort of jester-lingerie hurried towards you through the fog of smoke, papers with said form flailing from one hand and a stamp held in the other.

"No need, Kitty, they have a meeting with the big boss." Travis kicked the little thing out of the way as he exited the cabin. You bit your lip at the unnecessary hostility and felt a lick of anger flare up, but you had no time to dwell on it as Alastor steered you past the startled thing, watching it limping around to collect the forms it had dropped as the owl sinner shoved it.

"Remain alert, keep up and whatever happens, you'll watch and follow my cues." Alastor murmured. The grip on your shoulder tightening subtly, almost protective in the way his fingers slightly sunk into the material. "The show's on, kitten."

"Now isn't that a sight for sore eyes?" A double door at the end of the corridor opened with a bang and a purring voice, slick and seductive and thick with mockery and interest, filled the space between you and the tall, slender moth demon before you. Had he already looked impressive sitting in a limousine, the sheer height of him as he leaned in the doorway, hands folded over his fluffy coat that spread out into the clouds of smoke and with his chest puffed out and antennas raised, seemed towering in comparison, even rivaling Stolas’. But contrary to the goetian prince, Valentino's presence didn't ooze elegance and decorum, but pure, smug narcissism. Your hands, neatly folded in front of you, tightened into rock-hard fists at the realization that Angel was in this... creep's control. "That I live to see the day of the Radio Demon having gotten himself some arm candy - dios mio, now I can die in peace." He laughed, it was slimy and fake, and took a deep breath, remembering your role and staying silent. Remain alert, follow his cues.

"Now, now, Valentino, you should know better than to make promises you don't intent to keep." Alastor tilted his head, remaining non-chalant, but his tone full of venom. "A good entertainer never promises more than he can deliver, after all."

"You should know." Valentino grinned, trying to look unfazed by the remark, but his smile wavered for a second, barely twisting into a growl before he composed himself. He stepped back to let you and Alastor inside his office, or whatever the room could be called. It looked more like a brothel sitting room, with obscene pictures of the moth in provocative and suggestive poses placating the walls. A big, luscious windowfront overlooking the entertainment district of Pentagram City stretched over one of the longer sides, two doorways that lead further inside the mansion were framed by pink lightbulbs that left everything in a fuzzy, pink glow. Pink and magenta must've been his signature colors, because it was found in every disgusting inch of this room, as well as heart shapes. They were everywhere: On doors and chandeliers, as decorations of handlebars, even in the wallpaper. The hypocrisy of it made your ears twitch.

"And you..." Valentino said with a sneer, pulling the doors closed with a bang that was a little too loud and rounded the pair of you, bending at the waist to look at you closely through his heart-shaped sunglasses. "... you must be the friend my little angelito was so eager to hide from me." He stretched out a clawed finger, tilting your chin up and to the sides, almost studying you like a toy he was about to invest a lot of money in. "Do you have a name, gata?"

You stared at him, remaining stone-faced as Alastor pulled you away and out of Valentino’s grasp, his eye twitching dangerously, although the pimp didn't seem to notice.

"My assistant's name is Gem, if you must address her. And I'd advise you to keep those hands from touching things that don't belong to you, dear chum, lest you don't want to find them as trimmed as your antenna." Alastor's cold voice was accompanied with the high pitch hum of static and Ozul hissing from his shoulders and into thin air. The words must've had some deeper meaning, because Valentino's gloved hand subconsciously smoothed his one, obviously damaged antenna with the flick of his wrist and a soured look. You could see the fight in his face, the fight of a man wanting to make a snappy comeback, but he decided against it, and his face turned mocking once more.

"Oh, now that's interesting - Tell me, Gem, does that mean he has already bagged your soul, Muñeca, or are you still up for grabs? I could make use of those pretty eyes in a lot of ways that’d make you both – rich and famous.”

You felt a sharp prickle running like a current down your spine, and you didn’t know if it was Alastor’s furious static or your own flaming anger, fanned by the way the moth let his eyes slide from your face over your breasts and the curve of your hips.

“No, thank you. I’m quite satisfied in my current position.”

Valentino only laughed, leaning his head to the side with a smirk as he breathed out more of that awful, pink smoke filling half of the room already. His tone was cold and taunting as he spoke again, licking the streaks of blood-red drool from his chin that had escaped him.

“I would love to know a few of those positions, baby, but I can see that you seem to feel very comfortable working under him.”

Your tail whipped with outrage, but Alastor’s claws slightly twitched on your shoulder, digging into your hidden scar ever so slightly, and you shut your lips as quickly as you opened them for a response.

“Could we get to the point, Valentino? As delightfully impudent as this conversation is, some of us have real work to do.”

The moth sighed overdramatically, waving to two pink, tacky chairs opposite to an equally tacky chaise lounge, where he let himself plop on with a flourish, flashing long legs in fishnet stockings and knee-high leather heels. You moved stiffly, guided by Alastor’s hand that remained like a vice on your shoulder until he had to let go and sat down in one of them, eyes sharply focused on Valentino. You did the same, and a wave of ease flushed over you as you heard and felt Ozul nestling behind you, attaching himself to your own shadow – like a safety belt, if things would go awry.

“How typical of you, Radio Demon, to put business before pleasure. But I’ll cut to the chase then.”

The pimp took a slender glass filled with a sparkling, yellow liquid and took a sip, running his tongue around the rim as he looked at you again.

“As you well know: I own Angel Dust’s twinky ass, and I won’t have him performing in your circo raro without paying the right price.”

Alastor’s claws tapped on the head of his microphone. “Well, if it's only finances that's the problem, I'm sure the princess is more than happy to compensate you. But I have a hunch..." The tinkling sound of his sharp nails against the metal of his sound shield got louder. "... that it's not money you're after."

The two locked eyes, both smiling broadly but with very, VERY different undertones, all while Ozul snarled quietly in a warning growl. Valentino didn't seem to notice the sound, or maybe he didn't care. Instead, he lit up another cigarette and stretched over the plush seat as he crossed his long legs and blew a fresh wave of that disgusting smoke across the table.

"More than a hunch, I guess, given that my initial invitation was only for the sweet joya, until you apparently insisted on tagging along. Getting soft in your old age, Radio Demon?" Valentino tilted the upper corner of his mouth into a grin and glanced at you with an arched brow.

You had to take a few steadying breaths - something was off about him, but you couldn't place it. Not only did his eyes glued to you like hot coals, making you uneasy in all kinds of ways you didn't want to investigate. But he was set to agitate Alastor, and for what it was worth - it seemed to be working. Although your master kept his poise and smiled politely, a few more degrees were added to his usual, menacing grin. And of course. The eye-twitch.

"Unlike you I prefer to safekeep the sinners belonging to me. Gem here is no exception."

"Oh?" The moths tone became dangerously sly. "So she does belong to you?"

"Obviously." you said before you could think about it, hoping feverishly that your sudden panic wasn't reflected in your still expression. You realized what Valentino was trying to do - and you'd be damned if you would allow Alastor's most important rule to be broken.

'You'll tell no one about our deal.'

"Given my position as personal assistant for such a powerful overlord, it's only natural to devote myself entirely to his services."

You had to thank the countless lessons of elusive answers you had learned living in the hotel. Alastor hummed lowly, and though it had no harmonies or melody, you recognized it as an appreciative gesture - you were following protocol: Be vague with information, tell no one. If Alastor didn't want Charlie and the others to know about your deal, he sure as hell wouldn't want one of the Vee's to know either.

Valentino's face flashed with scowled disappointment, but he just folded his arms and snipped some ash of his cigarette. "Your name is fitting, gata - you rarely find someone so... loyal. I can only hope for Angel-Cakes that some of this loyalty extends to him."

"Are we finally getting to the issue then?" Alastor asked, twirling his staff back and forth in his clawed hand, making it feedback ever so slightly. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the cane, mic still clicking softly at the tip and eyes glowing a deep red. "We are very aware of your history of keeping what you've caught in your web - so let's hear what you propose and we can all move on."

You clenched and relaxed your fingers around the soft padding of the seat underneath you, you stomach doing a nervous flip. You weren't sure you wanted to know what the moth had in mind, but just remembering Angel's blackened face and that look - that haunting look - was enough for you to steel your resolve and draw your gaze towards Valentino again.

The pimp sat up, stretching out his dusty wings patterned with more love hearts, as if in mocking. That demon knew nothing about love.

"Alright then. I could allow Angel to have his little... show at your party. In exchange, you will perform for my business, muñeca. A show for a show, that seems fair, doesn't it?"

Ozul roared, contorting into a dark, chaotic mass that darted up with lightning speed, stopping midair inches from Valentino's face and screeched in his surprised face. Alastor rammed his cane loudly onto the floor, and with bitter resistance the shadow withdrew, returning to its place behind you. There was a moment of silence. Stunned, angry, tense silence. Valentino was stunned. Alastor was angry. And you, you were painfully, incredibly tense.

“Now that was interesting.” With long, fingers, he pushed his rosy heart-shaped glasses back up to shield his glowing cerise eyes, seeming both bemused and maleficent. Alastor on his part collected himself quickly, smoothing his hair to the side in a consciously laisse-faire motion, although you could feel the almost painful static punishing his shade for his outburst, so much so that you wanted to reach behind you and touch him – but of course, you knew better than that. You were nowhere near safe waters. Yet. 

“You have to excuse my shadows temper. Although it might’ve been the appropriate reaction to such an offensive proposition.” Alastor said courtly, tilting his head “You well know that those who serve me act as my extension. And I won’t allow one of my servants to engage in this frivolous meat show you call business. I pride myself in having class.”

“Believe me, I didn’t forget how much you value your chastity. Pity that it tends to ruin all the good things, isn't it, Alastor?" Valentino snorted, glancing down at his long claws. You had the lingering suspicion that there was a whole other conversation going on that had nothing to do with you, Angel or why you came, and by the way the red overlords’ eyes turned darker and darker you decided to - once again - try to end this conversation as soon as possible.

"When you say 'perform for my business', what exactly would that entail, sir?"

You had a hard time keeping a straight face under these two intense looks, feeling a cold shiver down your spine when both turned to look at you. The moth spoke first, chuckling.

"Mh, at least one of you is reasonable. Well, joya, it means that for the night Angel shakes his maracas for the princess, you do the same for a new club I'm opening. He told me you're quite the showstopper, and from what I've seen in Velvette’s sinstagram feed, I suppose you'd be up for the task."

Alastor tutted, shaking his head in condescension. "That hardly seems like clear terminology, old chum. Is it a private affair only? An establishment ordeal? And if so, does that imply your usual vulgar activities you have your... performers do?" He made quotation marks in the air with his claws at the last words, causing the moth to smirk, and Alastor to curl his smile nastily.

"If she's insecure about her abilities, I can gladly provide some lessons."

Ozul raged hot and furious again against your back, but this time, you spoke before he could do something foolish again.

"That'll be hardly necessary, as I'm not that kind of performer." You folded your hands to prevent them from shaking and rushed to choose your words carefully. Words that would get both of you out of here, Angel off Valentino’s hitlist, and you out of a deal you (and most assuredly Alastor) didn't want to make.

"I was trained to sing and dance, which I'm comfortable to do. Since Angel's performance will be modest given the occasion, I have no intention to trade his contribution to our gala with more than a polite offer of similar entertainment within my abilities, even though I'll be mindful of the context of your profession. And of course, this won't be considered a permanent, but a one-time occasion."

Your gaze wandered to Alastor, and you felt his eyes connect with yours - just for a moment. But it felt like a whole conversation - your question of his approval and reassurance that you left no loopholes, and his answer as he leaned his head to the side and started tapping his microphone again.

Valentino’s expression was one of careful calculation as he too glanced to the Radio Demon and his trademarked smile returned. "Quite a little rule-stickling pedant, isn't she? Wonder from who she picked that up."

"From the best in the business, of course. Now, what do you say to her proposal?"

The pimp sighed dramatically, flinging his empty glass over his shoulder and grabbing a fresh one from the tray the little animatron called 'Kitty' held up instantly. You eyed her, wondering if she was sentient, feeling a tinge of pity for her as you saw her walking away, still limping. But you couldn't save them all. For now, you'd focus on Angel. And yourself, for that matter.

"Fair enough. Let's not forget who we're talking to, right?" he added, looking at Alastor. The Radio Demon stayed mute, staring the moth overlord down with obvious vitriol.

"Then I'll say: Two nights, a little promotional photoshoot and I'll throw in 7 minutes in heaven with me on the house, gata. And Angel can return to his normal shooting schedule."

"One night, one song, no nudity or sexual acts involved. And Angel will face no further punishment for this matter." With a side glance to the demon sitting next to you, you saw the ghost of a twitch of his lips. Which, strangely enough, gave you the confidence to look Valentino straight in the eyes for the first time. "That offer is final."

There was a beat. One small moment of silence in which everything seemed frozen in anticipation. Neither overlord looked at each other, but at you, the air loaded like electricity and Ozul’s grip on your back became tighter.

"I think we have ourselves a deal, joya." The moths tone was surprisingly casual, as if you'd just agreed on how bad the weather was. His face didn't change, but his smirk curled around the corners as all three of you stood up and Alastor’s shadow companion returned to its master. You extended your arm, reaching for Valentino’s outstretched hand to seal the deal, glad to have this over with without further complications. How foolish you were.

"Ah, muñeca, I'm not like that old fashioned reprimido you keep company. I seal all my deals like this..."

You stumbled forwards as he grabbed your hand and pulled, one arm wrapped painfully tight around your waist, and you tasted smoke and burnt sugar as he bent down and kissed you.

[faun-the-hound]

More Aphmau/mcd characters in dnd rules (2024 ruleset), continued from this post

Vylad - Half-elf (high elf) - lvl 14 Rogue(Inquisitive, 8)/Ranger (Gloomstalker, 6) - Noble background - Lawful Neutral 14 str, 16 dex, 12 con, 15 int, 15 wis, 12 cha The youngest of the O'khasis royal family, the product of an affair between the queen and a visiting noble of another land. They ran away at a very young age, long before their brothers did, joining up with an adventuring group before realising it was actually a cult... oops.. now he's on the run from the cult, and tracking her brothers' movements as they journey with their own adventuring group

Travis - Tiefling - lvl 14 Sorcerer(Abberant, 8)/Bard(College or Lore, 4)/Rogue(2) - Hermit background - Chaotic Good 13 str, 15 dex, 14 con, 11 int, 14 wis, 17 cha The son of a devil that once terrorised a village in Gal'ruk, he tried to make a hero of himself by defeating the devil, but his own demonic appearance made him a permanent outcast to the villagers. Instead of abandoning them, he lived in isolation in the mountains, protecting the village from monsters that threaten them

Nana(Kawaii~Chan) - Tabaxi(meif'wa) - lvl 16 Cleric(Life Domain, 12)/ Ranger(Beast Master, 4) - Merchant background - Chaotic Good 14 str, 16 dex, 14 con, 12 int, 16 wis, 13 cha A retired warrior living out her days along the roadside, running her own tavern/inn with a fully undead service staff. Once, she was a feared necromancer in Tu'la, but she left that life behind in exchange for running her unusual tavern. Until a group of new adventurers from Phoenix Drop come to her offering a new quest

Zoey - Wood elf - lvl 18 Druid(Circle of the Land) - Sage background - Lawful Good 10 str, 16 dex, 14 con, 14 int, 18 wis, 12 cha One of the more powerful druids in an elven grove deep within the woods, she was blamed when one of the grove's most powerful artifacts disappeared on her watch one night, and forced to leave. Now she resides in Phoenix Drop, with an army of bird scouts seeking out her home's stolen artifact, while Zoey spends her time researching in the town's strangely plentiful library

Abby - Human - lvl 5 Fighter(Battle Master) - Farmer background - Neutral Good 14 str, 15 dex, 13 con, 15 int, 11 wis, 10 cha The daughter of an O'khasian guard. When he father was killed, she was taken into the care of her godmother, who had been dismissed from her own guard duty, and moved to Phoenix Drop, where Abby was raised for a few years. Until one night, she packed her belongings, and snuck out of her home, fleeing the town and beginning a search for her father's killer

let me know opinions. and also classes or subclasses for Cadenza, Gene, Dante or Sasha bc I'm not sure for any of them

edit: here's part three now it's up