The Devil You Know - bluedogblue (2024)

Chapter 1: Money can't buy it-Annie Lennox

Chapter Text

"All the world will be your enemy, Prince with a thousand enemies. And when they catch you, they will kill you. But first, they must catch you. Digger, listener, runner. Prince with a swift warning. Be cunning and full of tricks, and your people will never be destroyed.” -Richard Adams, Watership Down

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It is said that during the great battle between Heaven and Hell, despite Lucifer’s initial transgressions and Satan’s brutal war tactics, none of the original fallen accumulated quite as many sins as Prince Mammon, the lord of greed. He was conniving and cold, making deals with any being be they angelic, demonic or mortal, counting on the debts he collected to insure his place at the top of the pyramid once the dust settled.

And no where in the universe reflected this aspect of the clown prince of finance better than his own ring. Everywhere you looked, you could see demons struggling to dupe and scam each other to get even the slightest bit ahead. Crooked imps and loan sharks ran everything the prince didn’t own personally, and even then his official stamp didn’t stop some of them from sticking their fingers in the pie. The only ring in Hell with more violent crime was Pride, and just barely.

Personally, Mammon saw no need to change any of this. Afterall, you can’t put a price on good entertainment, especially at his age. That being said, he wasn’t quite as hands-off as his oldest brother. Which is why he was currently heading to the epicenter of his ring’s chaos, the so-called ‘Organized Crime Capital of the Universe’. Notamafia Town, a place which, in hindsight, he should not have named while drunk off his ass.

He was often questioned by his immediate subordinates why he didn’t simply snuff out the whole place and make his ring that much safer for tourist traffic, and the answer was very simple; game respects game. He can respect anyone who goes that hard just to turn a profit. As Marlon Brando said, “Mafia is the best example of capitalism we have.” Besides, the five families of Greed have proven very useful to him over the generations, between gathering dirt on his siblings should he ever need to put the squeeze on them (but not waste one of his own favors), to keeping various legal teams and unions off his back. (Really, Lucifer should just let it go already. He changed the spelling of the name, what more did he want?!)

The only times when Mammon found it necessary to punish any mafioso family directly was when they either embarrassed him or stole from him directly. As it was, he got too much use out of them, and he wasn’t about to kill this goose.

Of course, none of the five families ever knew they interacted with Mammon directly; not even some of the richest nobility could afford his basic appearance fee. No, for any of his dealings with the five families, Mammon saw fit to disguise himself as a mere assistant to the Prince of Greed, and for the last couple years, said assistant was a fast-talking imp whom the five families, most of the main branches of which were comprised mainly of imps themselves, seemed to respect enough. Regardless of his official position, this imp had a direct line to Prince Mammon himself after all, so getting him in your pocket meant being first in line for royal jobs and perks.

So, under his impish guise, Mammon was often invited to major parties and events hosted by the five families. He didn’t bother attending all of them, (who really wanted to attend Don EasiMonie’s second daughter’s third wedding anyway?), but this event was special.

It was the induction ceremony of Don Crimson Knolastname’s only son and heir.

The Knolastname family had always been a big name, not just in Greed but in all of Hell. They had seized their power immediately after the Great Fall, like all the business savvy demons had, and maintained it with an iron grip ever since. They had their own claim to Heavenly aristocracy like the rest of the five families, though this noble blood meant almost nothing hundreds of generations later outside of bragging rights. They were known for being especially brutal and blood thirsty, especially their latest leader.

To say Crimson was ruthless was a severe and glaring understatement. The imp had no patience and extremely high standards. He wanted his soldiers blood-thirsty and loyal, he wanted his business running smoothly, and he wanted anyone who crossed him promptly dealt with. Preferably with an ice pick or industrial meat grinder.

As such, Mammon made sure to keep a close eye on him, calling in favors as his own assistant when he needed to send an especially cruel and efficient message. And Crimson never disappointed, taking pride in his family’s work, building up his reputation as a heartless killer.

That being said, Mammon was curious to meet the son raised by such a guiltless monster. From what he had heard, Crim had been training the boy for almost as long as the kid could walk and talk, and the prince was eager to meet his newest dirt-worker.

With the Knolastname estate quickly coming into view, the prince closed his eyes and engulfed himself in a swirling green energy, donning his disguise. By the time his driver pulled into the mansion’s drive, he was unidentifiable as one of the Seven Deadly Sins, outside of his immediate family anyway.

Rather than an eight-foot-tall clown demon, what stepped out of the royal limo was an imp of only slightly above average height. The striped horns on his head vaguely resembled his jester’s cap, save the middle section which was replaced by curly but well-kept white hair. His eyes now appeared the typical impish yellow, only glowing green in certain light, and on his forehead sat a white ‘birthmark’ in the shape of a diamond. An impish tail with two stripes, one black, one white, forming a cross just a couple inches above the spade, which itself was emblazoned with a black dollar sign.

But what really stood out about this form were his wings, which, like the rest of his siblings, he was too attached to part with completely, regardless of the circ*mstance. Two small, dragon-like wings sprouted from his back, the one on the left printed with the number zero, and the right with the number thirty-six. It wasn’t very common for imps to have wings so many generations after The Fall, but if anything he found that this too worked to his advantage.

This uncommon trait singled him out as special from other imps, making his backstory of being personally chosen to be a prince’s assistant that much more believable.

He was also dressed to impress, as it was a special occasion after all. Tonight, he wore a dark green suit from a designer label, the color so deep it was almost black. A crisp white shirt with twin dollar signs embroidered with golden thread on the collar sat beneath the jacket, fastened with tie of a sightly lighter shade of green, pinstriped with more gold and clipped with his favorite tie clip, the golden dagger with the diamonds embedded in the hilt. His feet, currently hoofs, were covered by Italian-style black suede loafers, the solid soles of which provided a soft ‘clack’ as he walked towards the entrance to the manor while his driver pulled away to find a parking spot.

Ever one for manners and etiquette, the Don was standing in the doorway, greeting guests alongside his consigliere, a tall loan shark named Alessio, and another shark Mammon couldn’t recognize right away, but who he knew had to be a baron or higher.

The fedora-wearing imp’s smile widened at the sight of what he thought was one of the few imps in Hell richer than him, his golden fang gleaming.

“Mr. Avarice! Glad to see you could make it! Hope you didn’t have to much trouble getting here from Mint City.” Crimson reached out and shook his hand, a gesture the disguised prince, now Mr. Avarice, reciprocated.

“No problem, Mr. Knolastname. You know I’ll always consider you and your family as some of my closest friends.” He may be piling it on a bit thick, but the demon in front of him had some serious control issues and a bad case of little dog syndrome, so thick was necessary to get past his walls. Thankfully, it always worked, and he could sense Crimson’s mood already lifting higher. So, Mammon felt free to prod further.

“Where is the man of the hour by the way? In the past few years we’ve done business, I don’t think I’ve ever met your son.” His tone was professional and friendly, but despite an outward lack of change in both expression and body language, he could tell Crimson’s mood was now slightly soured.

“He’s upstairs, preparing for the ceremony. Told him he could just wait there until all the guests arrive, he’s a bit on the shy side.” Crimson replied curtly.

He could tell that was as far as he was going to get here, so he simply thanked the Don for the invitation and walked into the mansion. Rather than bothering to mingle with the other guests, however, the embodiment of Greed slipped away towards the stairs.

Asking Crimson where his son was wasn’t really important, as the prince could smell another being’s net worth from a mile away. The smell of both current and potential value was delicious, and always cut through the smog and pollution of his ring, something Leviathan had always joked made the place only habitable for him.

Crimson’s presumedly late wife had come from old money in Wrath herself, and, despite whatever estrangement the Knolastname heir had with his mother’s side of the family, he was still technically heir to that fortune as well, so by Mammon’s estimation, Crimson’s son should be the one with the highest net worth at this party besides himself.

He started up the stairs, only to be hit almost immediately by the most amazing scent. The oh-so-rare combination of two lines of old money, undercut with a healthy dash of untapped potential.

Mammon followed his nose to the source, eager to meet his future errand boy.

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Being the only son and heir of a distinguished and old crime family meant going through many traditions and rituals. In the moments before Prince Mammon donned his disguise and pulled up to his home, a freshly 18-year-old Moxxie Knolastname was participating on one such ritual. The ‘Induction Day Tarot Reading’ was traditionally preformed by the inductee’s closest female blood relative, but as Moxxie lacked both siblings and female cousins, and his mother was…out of the picture, his cards were being read by Cleo, a capo and the only woman to ever make it into the family’s inner circle.

The suit-wearing shark did her best to convey a tone of mystery and magic, as she felt that was the atmosphere such a tradition needed. Though she couldn’t see the young heir’s skepticism through her own performance.

Moxxie knew the justification behind such a ritual; it was a way to give new inductees a sense of direction in their first year as official members. But it felt pointless. Mainly because they were literal demons in literal Hell, where magic existed and those who had the means, like his family, could probably have their fortune told for real with a great deal more accuracy than whatever a deck of cards could tell them.

But also because, on a much more somber note, he already knew his future. He would be inducted, start working rounds and doing jobs with his crew. He’d be as ruthless and cold as his father needed him to be or he and those few demons he cared about would suffer the consequences. He’d eventually rank up, to baron then to capo, either through his actual accomplishments or his dad saving face through bouts of nepotism. Eventually he would get married, most likely to a girl his father picked out. A fellow mafia kid, the daughter of one of his inner circle or the third child of one of the few families they were on decent terms with. It didn’t matter who specifically; she wouldn’t care about him, and he could try but would most likely never care about her either. They would have kids, heirs to the Knolastname syndicate, and the whole process would begin again, from start to mind-numbing, heart-breaking finish.

“Are you even paying attention?” a snippy voice with a vaguely Brooklyn accent cut into his doom spiral. Moxxie looked up with a start to see Cleo was nearly done with the reading, having already laid and flipped most of the cards.

Moxxie looked up apologetically. “Scusa zia signora.”

Cleo seemed to take this especially respectful apology as atonement enough. “As I was saying, you have a tough road ahead of you. Swords and staves, Judgement, Death. Even Lucifer himself came to see you on your special day.” A single long, manicured claw tapped on the card depicting the king of Hell, “The Devil” inscribed neatly under his smiling image. Cleo continued.

“Glad it’s your reading and not mine. You’ve got some serious trials ahead little guy. Big changes, big choices, and it’s not always gonna be safe.” Reaching over, she flipped the last reading card.

“But you won’t be alone. You have your guide. Oh, and it’s a good one too! You got “The Fool”.

Now Moxxie piped up, engaging for the first time since he sat down for his reading. “If he’s a fool, how is he a good guide?”

Cleo smiled, satisfied to finally get her bosses’ son interested. “It’s good because he’s like you. Not the stupid kind of fool, just the naïve kind, ‘cause your both just starting out. Freckle-faced, pure-eyed birthday boy, going on to life’s big adventure.” For emphasis, she reached over and pinched the younger demon’s freckled cheek.

Moxxie sighed at his surrogate aunt’s antics. “I guess that’s better.”

Cleo was into it now. “But look here. Your guide already has a problem, see?” She pointed to the illustration on the card. “Not a hair’s length into his journey, and one step in front, the drop off.”

At this point, Moxxie was engrossed despite himself. “What about the dog?”

“That’s The Fool’s good judgement. See how he’s barking out advice? ‘Fool! Don’t go walking off that cliff! Do the smart thing. The high thing.’”

“So, then Fool’s journey ends there?” Moxxie finished, somewhat unsatisfied.

Cleo just rolled her ringed eyes. “No, he just needs to do what he has to do. Turn back, face what he left behind, and walk the other way. Straight through the fires of the sun.”

Moxxie scrunched up his face, even more disappointed with this ending. “So Fool dies either way? If he moves forward, he falls, but if he turns back he burns?”

Cleo shook her head. “Naw, only the boy part gets burned up when he turns back. The rest comes through the other side a man. And no one ever calls him a fool again.”

This moment would have been heavy with dramatic levity, had Cleo’s cellphone not started ringing. Muttering curse, she pulled out her burner and answered with a snappy “What?!” before gesturing for Moxxie to leave the parlor.

Walking out the door, Moxxie was greeted by a familiar loan shark leaning against the opposite wall. Tall and skinny, with a green-tinted coloring and a big smile with one tooth missing. He wore a fedora and a skeletal themed suit he swore he was just two more payments from owning.

He was the nephew of one of his father’s capos, Corban Thurman, and Moxxie’s oldest and best friend, Chazwick Thurman.

“Hey Foxy Moxxie. How’d your session with Madame Cleo the Magnificent go?”

Moxxie rolled his eyes, but still smiled at his friend’s over-the-top turn of phrase. “It went well, I guess. Managed to finish before someone from downstairs called at least. And don’t let her hear you call her that. She just got new skinning tools and she’s been dying to test them out.”

The loan shark shuddered slightly before standing up straight. Or, at least as straight as his terminally bad posture would allow. He shouldered up to Moxxie as they began to make their way down the corridor.

“So, don’t hold out on me. What’s in store for our fearless leader?! Action? Romance? Whatever made-up bullsh*t genre they’re calling superhero movies now?”

Moxxie sighed. “I’m not your leader yet. And honestly, it was nothing that I couldn’t have figured out without a reading. Big changes, hard choices, danger. As if being inducted into a major crime family could be described any other way.”

He decided to leave out Cleo’s dramatic interpretation of his guiding card, a little embarrassed of how enraptured he found himself towards the end.

Chaz seemed disappointed, as he always was whenever he was without entertainment for more than ten seconds at a time.

“Well, that’s lame. And here I thought I’d finally get to hear that you have some tiny chance at getting laid.”

This led Moxxie to smack his friend lightly on the arm. “Don’t be crass.”

Now was Chaz’s turn to roll his eyes. “If I wanted to be crass, I could bring up the fact that you’ve let at least a dozen sure things slide right past you. Are you scared of getting your dick wet?”

“As someone who met some of those ‘sure things’ you should know why they didn’t go anywhere. I have higher standards than those…fetishists.”

Chaz shrugged. “All I’m saying is that you should donate your co*ck to charity if you’re not gonna use it.”

Moxxie smacked his arm again. “Very funny.”

“Who’s trying to be funny? There is some poor bastard out there in desperate need of a leg transplant and you have a third one you’re not even using.”

Moxxie’s face lit up with an indignant blush. “Chaz!” he cried out, before attacking the taller demon with successive, but harmless smacks.

“Why are you so upset?!” the loan shark managed out around his own obnoxious laughter. “It’s a compliment! I mean, seriously, I know all about having inches, and even I’m impressed!”

The whole interaction came to a screeching halt at the sound of a third party clearing their throat behind them. The two teens turned to see Cleo, done with her phone call and staring them down with a look of obvious displeasure.

“That was the boss. Called me downstairs to reign Crunch in. Apparently he did some pre-partying on the way over.” She turned to look Moxxie in the eye.

“The important guests are starting to show. Your dad wants you to network a little before the ceremony, so be down in fifteen.” She turned to look at Chaz, her scowl deepening.

“You I expect to see downstairs in less than five.” And she marched past them, down the stairs and into the main foyer.

The two old friends stood in silence for a moment. A silence that Chaz predictably broke with as little tact as possible.

“Sooo….guess everyone still thinks we’re f*cking, huh?”

Moxxie scoffed. “I wonder why that is?”

Chaz’s obnoxious flirting was the background noise to their whole friendship. He didn’t really mean anything by it, insisting that despite his general willingness to rut anything that would have him, he valued their current relationship too much to cross that line. That, and because the two had known each other so long, Moxxie felt a bit like a brother or a very close cousin to him, and in his own words, “quasi-incestuous hook-ups are only fun in p*rn” a disgusting sentiment that Moxxie still somehow found endearing.

So why the flirting? Chaz insisted he was just doing his job as a best friend, by boosting Moxxie’s confidence while simultaneously making his hom*ophobic father squirm. Moxxie appreciated the thought, but still feared for the day he would see one of his only real friends on his father’s trophy wall.

“Back to the issue at hand, are you seriously just not gonna date anyone, ever? If you just lowered your standards a bit, you’d be…”

“It’s not just about having high standards, Chaz.” Moxxie interrupted the shark, his expression suddenly becoming very sad and tired. “It’s just…so much of my life has been decided for me already, I just want this to be one of the few decisions I get to make.”

Sensing that his friend was no longer in a joking mood, Chaz decided his next words should be serious. As serious as he could be anyway.

“It’s not all bad. Sure, your dad is one of the very worst demons I or anyone else has ever met, but he finally agreed to let you pick out your own crew, right? And you know me, Devitre, and Miyo are gonna have your back out there. Just think, in a week’s time, it’ll be the four of us against the world, making bank and busting kneecaps!” the shark finished with a big smile.

Moxxie weakly grinned up at his friend, who, despite his immaturity, could still hit an important point every now and then. “Thanks, Chaz.”

The shark smiled smugly. “Anytime Mox. Now I gotta head downstairs, I do not want to be Cleo’s new shoes.”

Moxxie watched his friend leave before he finally allowed his smile to drop. Sure, what he said was true, and Moxxie was glad to have friends he actually trusted be allowed to work with him, but at the same time, he didn’t want them to have to. This kind of life was never safe or stable for very long, and he was sick of seeing everyone he cared about fall victim to it.

Emotions running high, Moxxie decided it would be best to blow off some steam.

Turning back to the opposite end of the corridor, he made his way towards his favorite room in the house.

The only reason the music room was still here was because it pre-dated Crimson by several generations, and likewise most of the instruments inside were antiques or heirlooms. For as much as the Don hated his son’s hobby, he respected tradition too much to remove or remodel the space.

Moxxie’s guitar was the newest instrument in the room, a gift from his maternal grandmother back when she still deigned to speak to him. The little imp pulled it from it’s stand before making his way over to an inconspicuous vent on the far wall. Jimmying it loose, he set the cover aside before rooting around for what he had left there.

Sure enough, it was right where he had left it, the twine taped to the dark corner of the vent shaft. Grabbing the string and giving it a yank brought a rolling board coming down the shaft towards him. On the board was a milk crate, and in the milkcrate was an old-fashioned tape recorder, about twenty tapes, some labeled as used, others blank. Along side them was some masking tape and markers for labeling, and an old, worn-out notebook. The spine was cracking, with pages sticking out the sides. His name was written neatly on the cover, surrounded by doodles of music notes.

Closing the vent and taking both the crate and his guitar over to a nearby bench, Moxxie considered his recent experiments with his songs. Namely, the genre he was writing lately. While rock music wasn’t his favorite, it wasn’t without merit. He became interested after hearing his father rant about how much he hated the style, and had been researching and writing rock songs ever since. He particularly liked ballads, thinking them almost as good a method for story telling as a theatrical soliloquy.

Sitting down on the bench and loading a blank tape into his recorder, Moxxie flipped his song book open to the ballad he had just finished the night before. He strummed his guitar to check the tension, took a deep breath, and hit record before strumming in the first line.

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Mammon passed two more loan sharks on his way upstairs, one he recognized as a notable capo in the Knolastname family, the other was a much younger shark wearing one of his more popular rent-to-own suit designs. The first was content to believe he was looking for the bathroom, and the other rushed past like his life depended on it without giving him a second glance.

Whatever. He wasn’t here for small fries. The valuable scent had only grown stronger since reaching the second floor, he just needed to narrow down where it was coming from. He was almost on top of it, when suddenly the sound of a guitar being strum cut into his focus.

The playing was very good, but it wasn’t any song he recognized. The tempo reminded him of an old-school ballad. He was on top both the scent and music, just outside the door when the mystery musician began to sing.

It was a rock ballad! The guitar riffs were heavy and intense, and the singing was emotional but clear and pure.

The ballad itself was almost storied like a fairy tale; it told the story of a young lamb living in a valley with his flock and mother, before a lion came down from the wooded mountain side, slaughtering the lamb’s entire family as the helpless creature watched from the shadows, unable to do anything. With nowhere else to go and no one left in the world to care for him, not to mention the looming threat of the lion, the lamb took refuge deep in a dark cave on the far side of the mountain. There, the creature meagered out a miserable existence, surviving only on stagnant water and toxic plants that grew without sunlight.

That was the lamb’s life, until a vision of his mother inspired him to fight back against the monster that took everything from him. The lamb finished growing into adulthood as he journeyed back over the mountain and faced the lion in a final bout. The ram put up a decent fight at first, even managing to gauge the beast’s eye out. But in the end, it was for nothing, as the lion mortally wounded the ram and swallowed his whole. It wasn’t the end of the song though; unbeknownst to the lion, the ram’s very flesh had been made toxic from years spent eating poisonous plants. The ram had survived by eating the poisons in small amounts at first, building up a resistance, but the lion ate years of toxins all in one go.

The story finished with the lion’s death, clawing at his own stomach as he thrashed on his back, choking on his last meal. The last few lines of the song ended in a sorrowful moan, belting out:

“The lion swallowed his end, thinking it his feast,

And the lamb found peace

In the belly of the beast.”

Mammon wasn’t one to throw his praise around willy-nilly. That would cheapen his opinion. But after hearing this secret show, he couldn’t help himself. Walking into the room, the prince of Greed started clapping as he entered.

“Bravo! Hope you planned for more than one song in your set, because I want to hear what else you have in your catalogue.”

The sudden noise and influx of praise sent his mystery performer scrambling, almost falling off the bench in his flailing. After regaining his composure, the performer, an imp Mammon realized, clicked a button on the tape recorder next to him before turning to see his mystery audience. This gave both of the demons their first good look at the other.

Mammon saw a young imp, late teens or early twenties, in a crisp black tux with a red bow tie. He had horns that zigged and curved backwards, neat white hair, and white freckles. Based on his resemblance, and the scent of two old money bloodlines filling the room, he had to guess this was Crimson’s son. He was smaller than he thought he would be, with digitigrade legs and big, round eyes that were far more expressive than his father’s. Glancing up towards the other demon, the soft lighting of the music room reflected in them, making them look almost golden in appearance.

Moxxie saw an older imp he recognized not only Mammon’s personal assistant but also as a friend of the family. He had never met him in person but had heard of him more times than he could count. He was the kind of demon even his dad respected. All the major families and crews tried to kept on his good side. He was also very good looking, with his neat suit and straight white teeth. Moxxie was suddenly very aware of the amount of influence this demon had, and could feel his stomach curl up into knots.

A feeling that was not helped as the older imp walked towards him and joined him on the bench.

“Don’t stop on my account. I’m always up for a free concert, especially if it’s by a good talent.”

Moxxie looked down at his lap, fiddling with the tape recorder. He knew it was rude to ignore him, especially as he was probably one of the more important guests. But he just didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even play for his closest friends, so what should he do about…

“Tape recorder huh? Seems kind of low-fi.”

Moxxie glanced up to his guest. “I-it’s just that non-compressed sound has more depth and is easier to layer and contrast. This way, when I listen back on it I have an easier time pin-pointing where I need to adjust things like the tempo.”

The older imp smiled. “Still seems a bit retro.”

“I prefer vintage, actually.”

“Oh? Is there a difference?”

“According to most of the music shops I’ve been in, the difference is about fifteen souls.”

The older imp gave a chuckle, and Moxxie actually smiled towards him. What a charming laugh! So much nicer than his own.

“You really are good though. I’ve never heard that song before, did you write it yourself?” Mammon questioned.

Moxxie nodded, still a bit too nervous to look him in the eye. He was sitting so close their hands were almost touching!

“I’ve been experimenting with new genres lately, mostly rock. I haven’t gotten the hang of the finer points yet, but I really like writing ballads.”

The disguised royal nodded. “Rock has always been a favorite of mine. The music, the clothes, the lifestyle. You know, if you put together a demo and show the right people, you could really go far with your talent.”

Moxxie’s eyes widened in quiet panic. “Oh, no I could never do that. I have too many responsibilities here. Besides, it would mean preforming in front of so many other demons, and I haven’t even shown anyone these songs yet!”

The older imp’s smile only widened. “An exclusive, never-before-heard performance by an undiscovered talent? Now aren’t I just the luckiest demon in Hell?”

Moxxie couldn’t help the blush that overtook his face, setting his cheeks on fire as he looked up at the imp beside him with wide eyes. He was only a head taller than him at most, but the difference in height made him seem so…mature.

Likewise, Mammon couldn’t help but stare into the younger demon’s awestruck gaze. His yellow eyes almost seemed golden before, but with his blush reflected in them, they became a whole new treasure. The gold tone started at the top, then faded to orange and a burning red near his cheeks. Like he was looking at a miniature sunset, complete with the imp’s freckles forming clouds dotted across his reflective eyes.

‘When was the last time anyone looked at me like that?’ The prince of Greed thought.

In that very moment, there was a slight shift in the known universe. A ripple felt by all beings, be they mortal, infernal or ethereal. Of course, only those oldest beings could recognize the cause. It had been so long since the last time it happened, after all. When Lucifer first saw Lilith, walking between the trees and shadows in the Garden of Eden.

This was what happened when one of the most powerful beings in Creation became utterly smitten.

The prince of Greed and his new object of affection were given no time to dwell on the moment, however, as a horse voice called to them from the door.

“Mox, what do ya think your doing up here? Everyone is waiting, we’ve got maybe ten minutes until the ceremony, and you’re just up here playing around…” Crimson’s words trailed off as he realized his son wasn’t alone.

“Oh, hello Mr. Avarice. Surprised to see you so far from the other guests.” His tone was now much more respectful, a detail both demons noticed.

Moxxie shifted in his seat, obviously made uncomfortable by his father’s sudden presence, prompting Mammon to rise and try to placate the Don.

“Sorry for my rudeness, Mr. Knolastname. I broke away early to freshen up before any more high-profiles arrived, but got distracted by an impromptu performance on my way back down. Your son has a real talent for music.”

Crimson’s eye gave a slight twitch, but his overall expression stayed the same. “Well, it’s always good to have a hobby. You know what they say about being all work and no play, after all!” The imp then gave a humorless chuckle, before directing a much more stern look towards his son.

“Mox, come on. No more dawdling.” His tone was harsh again.

“Yes sir.” The younger imp packed his belongings back into the milk crate, resolving to find a new hiding place for them later as he tucked it all under the bench.

As the younger demon began towards his father, Mammon could swear he saw a whole future going down the drain. All that talent and potential, given up for a life of strongarming and terf wars. Only to then be snuffed out permanently, either far too young bleeding out in a gutter or past his prime with nothing but bitter memories and regrets.

Nothing irritated the prince of Greed quite like wasted potential.

“Wait, Mr. Knolastname, can we have a word, the three of us, before heading back down?”

The two imps turned to look back at the guest.

“What about?” Crimson gruffly asked.

Smiling his best ‘close the deal’ smile, Mammon began his pitch.

“Talent like Mox’s really shouldn’t go to waste. Let me take him into Mint City for a month, maybe two tops. I’ll help him polish his sound, introduce him to some important people, maybe even run a demo by big M himself. He could really go far with the right demon in his corner.”

The Don seemed to ponder this for a moment, but Mammon could tell he was just pandering.

“A very kind offer, Mr. Avarice, but Moxxie has responsibilities to handle here, and besides, what kind of image would that give the family if my only son were to…”

“Fifty thousand souls.”

Crimson balked at the interruption, and the staggering figure suddenly presented.

“Excuse me?”

“Normally, Prince Mammon offers new potential talents a small stipend to drop everything and come to the city so he can see if they pass muster. But given Moxxie’s talent, high profile position, and of course the loss of business on your end, I feel confident that he wouldn’t mind me raising the usual price of doing business. Fifty thousand souls in your pocket. Moxxie comes back with me for two months, and I make sure he’s well taken care of. We work on his music, run it by the boss, and if it works out he’s got a great career ahead of him. If not, he comes back here and gets inducted as planned.”

Now he knew he really had Crimson’s attention. The imp let a slow smile spread across his face.

“Well, if you really think he has potential, then I’d be a bad father if I didn’t at least let him try.”

The older imps shook hands as Moxxie watched, his heart pounding in his chest. Was this really happening? Was his father really going to let him…

“I’ll go downstairs and tell my driver to bring the car around. I look forward to working with you, Moxxie.” Mr. Avarice said while looking right at the younger imp, his tone almost playful.

Moxxie fought to keep from blushing again as he watched the older imp leave before turning to his father, unable to keep the smile from his face.

“Dad, I can’t thank you enough. You always seemed to hate my music, so the fact that you’re letting me take this chance means so..,”

“I’m not letting you do anything.”

Moxxie’s expression fell. “Wait, what?”

Crimson’s glare turned ever harsher. “You aren’t going to be a musician, Mox. I’ve made that clear time and time again.” The older imp pulled out a cigar and lit it, before taking a puff. True to his old habits, he blew the first cloud directly into his son’s face.

“You’re just going to go through the motions in Mint City. Do what Mr. Avarice says, collect the money, and when the time comes, turn down any offer they give you and come back here.” He paused and laughed. “Of course, knowing you being the f*ck-up you are, you probably won’t even get that far.”

Then his eyes went cold again. “Your induction has been post-phoned, not cancelled. Nothing about the long-term plan has changed. Now go pack a bag. It’s rude to keep a family friend like Mr. Avarice waiting.”

“Yes sir.” Moxxie said, eyes downcast.

“Good. I expect all this sissy music bullsh*t to be out of your system by the time you come back. No one will take a prancing, show-tune singing wuss seriously as a leader of men.”

And with that cruel remark, Crimson left to go downstairs to tell everyone the ceremony had been delayed. Leaving his son alone to silently travel to his room and pack enough clothes and toiletries to last for the next two months. He carefully packed up his guitar, song book, cassettes and recorder, feeling as if he were a hamster on a wheel. Always running but never getting anywhere.

He was downstairs before he knew it. His father made a big show of seeing him off, giving one last threat to ensure good behavior. Chaz made him promise to remember him if he made it big. The members of the inner circle each gave a respectful good bye, and then he was alone in the back of a classic black limo with Mr. Avarice.

The ride was silent at the start. Moxxie stared out the window, watching the cesspit he grew up in pass by. Only when they passed the big road sign reading, “You are now leaving Notamafia Town. You didn’t see anything, capiche?”, did his travel companion finally speak up.

“No hate like a father’s love, huh?”

Moxxie looked up with a start. “Excuse me?”

“I heard a lot of what your father said to you back at the house. For all his money, you think he would have invested in sound-proof walls. Especially given his line of work.” The older demon smiled at his new talent.

Moxxie shrunk slightly in on himself. He hadn’t heard anyone criticize how his father treated him since…

“For what it’s worth, I think you made the right decision.”

Moxxie looked up at the other imp. “Really?”

Mr. Avarice’s smile only widened, showing off perfect white fangs.

“Of course. I meant what I said. It would be a waste for talent like yours to be left unseen.”

Moxxie blushed again, an action Mammon found just as charming and cute in the low light of his limo.

“Thank you, Mr. Avarice.”

“Please, Mox. Call me….”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Moxxie? Mox!”

His wife’s voice jolted him from his day-dreaming state. Shaking his head as he struggled to regain focus, he looked down at the monthly budget report he had been working on. Unfortunately, during his reminiscing he had doodled in the margins, in ink no less. Playful images of dollar signs and treble clefts, sometimes intertwined, danced up and down the paperwork. The imp sighed as he reached into the desk drawer for white out.

It was a normal day in most other respects. No clients this early in the morning, so they were just busying themselves with office work. Moxxie going over the budget, Millie running an inventory check, Loona already day-drinking as she browsed the Hellnet, and Blitzo busying himself in his office with the door closed. Knowing his habits, Moxxie didn’t want to guess what he was up to.

Nothing had happened to make him remember that period of his life, and yet…

Millie glanced down at her husband’s desk, before a knowing look came over her face.

“Oh, did that guy pop up in your thoughts again?” she asked sympathetically.

Moxxie flinched, a wave of guilt washing over him. “Oh crumbs, Millie I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to, I just-“

The farm girl laughed as she pat her anxious husband’s shoulder. “It’s ok baby, I know you didn’t mean anything by it. And I know how serious you were with this guy before you ended things. An old flame like this, it’s hard not to feel something.”

“Oh, um…” Moxxie’s thoughts stalled as he struggled not to think about how many guys Millie may or may not have dated before him. Unaware of her husband’s brief spike of jealousy, Millie continued.

“Besides, it’s obvious that you were thinking about that ex. The one who literally changed your life.”

It was no exaggeration. Moxxie’s first romantic partner had really changed his life. Moxxie never gave Millie a name, but did tell her about how he had discovered his musical talent and helped it become famous. There was apparently a lot of influence with this guy.

And Moxxie’s music was well advertised and desired. He was selling out shows in his first year in the business, and had won his first of many gold records shortly after starting his second. He only kept one with him when he left though, having picked it up essentially on accident. It hung in their bedroom at Millie’s insistence, the country imp eventually convincing him that she viewed the trophy as a symbol of Moxxie’s accomplishments rather than that of a past love. Even if it only had his stage name rather than his given name.

“I’m so lucky to hear you play, especially just for me. I know you’re talented enough to have earned those records no matter what happened.”

It was a sweet sentiment, but the presence of the trophy always reminded Moxxie of a phase in his life he’d rather forget. From the music he was allowed to write, (“Rock is your wheelhouse, doll. You can’t disappoint your fans”) to the stage persona he adapted, (“You gotta pay tribute to your roots, after all. Besides, without the family business, we never would have met.”) his ex was highly controlling in every aspect of his career.

And while never physically abusive, Moxxie’s former paramour was still...problematic. The imp had to deal with being monitored or kept in his sight at all times, only really given alone time in their shared living space. Otherwise, he was always accompanied by some form of guard, and his contact with other demons, even those friends he had known for years, were scheduled and limited.

Sure, he was pampered quite a bit; given any material possession he could ask for, a luxurious penthouse in Mint City to call home, and a lifestyle and career besides the one he thought he would always be destined for, but…

Something about his ex-boyfriend never quite added up. Sure, he told Moxxie about his job, but there always felt like there was something he wasn’t telling him. The money, the business trips, the rarely opposed sway in the entertainment business. Not to mention the way he managed to intimidate even his father into compliance…

Really, Moxxie still considered it, pardon his language, a miracle that he managed to escape his possessive lover’s grasp when he did. Ironic, considering how meeting him was an escape from his abusive father, but a deal with his father was the main distraction that allowed Moxxie to make his getaway.

It was a long time coming, but Moxxie had tolerated his ex’s …quirks for so long because not only did he still love him, but he was grateful. For offering him and his friends a way out of that life. For seeing Moxxie for him rather than what he came from. For providing that sense of stability and security he had craved for so long. But he also remembered when that safe, secure feeling ended.

“Do you not like your present, my little lucky coin?”

Moxxie shook his head. That was behind him now. He escaped his family, he escaped his ex…in the past few years, he hadn’t seen nor heard anything from any of them.

Still, he couldn’t help but think of him sometimes. The promises they made each other, the future he used to think they’d have together. The things his ex would say to him, when they were alone, as if he could sense Moxxie questioning their relationship.

“Without me, your father would drag you back into that gutter in a heartbeat. No one back there knows you like I do. I’m the only one who sees you for who you are, for your true value. I’m the only one who understands. I’m the only demon in Hell who truly loves you…”

And how, for the longest time, he believed it.

The gap-toothed imp, sensing her husband was once again lost in dark memories, rubbed his shoulder as she spoke up again, trying to change his train of thought’s course.

“Moxxie?”

Pulling himself up, the freckled imp looked up at his wife. “Yes Millie?”

“If we ever do cross paths with this guy, with any of your exes, would I still be your number one? I know this sounds silly, but…”

The tux-wearing imp immediately turned in his seat, grasping Millie’s hands in his own before making firm eye contact with her.

“It’s not silly at all, honey. Those worries are valid! But you don’t have to worry, because you’ll always be my queen! As much as he made an impact on my life, you made a bigger one. I love the life we’ve built together, and that’s what really matters.”

Millie’s eyes shined with love as she leaned over to give her husband a quick peck on the lips.

“Thank you, baby. That means a lot.”

Moxxie smiled at his beloved wife. “No problem. Besides, it isn’t like former partners are bound to pop up that often. Not unless you have a head count like Blitzo’s anyway. That being said, and not to jinx myself, but I sincerely hope we never run into mine. EVER.”

“Ah, you don’t have to worry about any old flame of yours! Even if they come along actin’ an ass, we can take care of them! Blitzo and Loona too if it comes down to it.” Millie said with confidence.

Moxxie smiled, but wasn’t convinced. ‘If only she knew…’

“Hey! Don’t drag me into your pitiable love lives!” Loona protested loudly from her desk without looking up. "Though it’s weird to think a loser like Moxxie even had an ex. Then again, fatty, I’m sure he was a loser who dumped you.”

The married imps glared at the hellhound before turning their attention back to their tasks. Someone had to work around here, after all.

Unbeknownst to the rest of the office, rather than engaging in his usual pastime of semi-public masturbation, Blitzo was actually doing work in his office. Specifically, he was speaking to the personal assistant of a rather high-profile demon who was looking to invest in their company.

“Now, I hope you understand, I don’t have the best history with your talent-blind boss.” Blitzo spoke into his office landline with his usual lack of tack. “But, if his offer is legit, I’m not above sucking up to another stuck-up prince. As long as I don’t have to do any literal sucking with this one”

The voice on the other end was smooth and deep, with a natural charm to it. The kind of voice you felt compelled to listen to.

“Of course it’s a legit offer, Mr. Cash. His highness has been meaning to hire a street crew to take care of his top-side investments for a while, and he is very impressed with your current work.”

“Well, it took him long enough but at least he’s finally recognizing my talent.” Blitzo said smugly. “Tell him I forgive him.”

Ignoring the previous remarks, the demon on the other line continued. “Of course, we’ll discuss all of this in detail at the meeting in your office today. While I prefer doing business in my home ring, I find that most new business partners are more comfortable on their own terf. I’ll be there soon. I’m looking forward to meeting both you and your crew in person.”

“Roger dodger.” Came the reply from the immature ex-clown before his mystery caller clicked goodbye.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The mystery caller in question was currently sat in a large, luxurious car in the IMP office parking lot. He was a tall demon with a clown-like appearance and intimidating aura. The mastermind behind the music scene, both in Hell and on much of earth, Creation’s original businessman and the face of Hell’s currency, Prince Mammon himself.

While it made his skin crawl to have to interact with a low-rent hack like Blitzo Cash again, it would be worth it in the end. The prince pulled a coin attached to a slim white-gold chain. The chain was of the highest quality, of course. Worth enough to pay the average demon’s rent for at least a month. But the coin, a one-cent piece was the prince’s focus as he rolled it between his fingers.

Normally, the embodiment of Greed wouldn’t bother chasing down one of his wayward talents personally, much less one as low in the pecking order as an imp.

But in the first place, Moxxie was no ordinary imp; just his father’s bloodline and fortune alone elevated his status to be almost equal to some of the Goetia barons and counts. Adding in his talent and how well he sold, he was a real treasure.

But even that didn’t quite encapsulate the freckled imp’s value. The cute little demon was so kind, considerate, and undemanding. Giving and generous despite his upbringing, humble despite his status, and so taken in with Mammon as he was, more or less, that the Deadly Sin couldn’t help but be attracted to him. To have him close and keep him to himself. No matter the cost.

Mammon’s mistake was in becoming too pre-occupied in his business dealings with the imp’s family, busy helping Crimson carve up his new terf. He ended up neglecting his sweet Mox Star long enough for him to become bored of their life. Unbelievable, given how f*cking luxurious it was.

Of course Mammon sent out a search party to find his little treasure. One that he thankfully didn’t have to pay for out of his own pocket; after a little “negotiation” Crimson was more than willing to send out his own soldiers to track down his rebellious son. Unfortunately, Moxxie had been trained to hit the mattress better than his family’s associates had been trained to track down their targets, because they never found a trace of his little lucky coin.

Really, it was through sheer luck that the prince had found any leads at all on the cute former rockstar. Browsing the Hellnet in search of new fads he could corner the market on, he came happened by the jingle for IMP, something he would have scrolled normally, but he recognized Moxxie from the thumbnail immediately. On the plus side, now he wouldn’t have to pay Crimson that compensation money he promised.

Knowing his favorite living treasure was spending all this time apart slumming it with demons so far beneath him it was laughable was bad enough. But soon after, Mammon discovered that Moxxie was married now. Naturally, the fact that his former lover was now taken flared up his desires much, much, much more than if he had stayed single.

As far as Mammon was concerned, he needed to stake his claim. Make it clear that Moxxie was his first and was still his now, regardless of their separation.

Knowing he couldn’t leave his car like this, Mammon allowed a familiar green energy to swirl around him, disguising him as the imp all of Hell knew to be Mammon’s personal assistant. While not his favorite form then, it held a special significance to him now. After all, this was the one he spent all his time with Moxxie in, from their very first meeting.

He was dressed a touch more casually now, of course, though the clothes were still top tier. Black dress slacks pin-striped with shiny green, dark green suspenders with golden clasps over a crisp, dollar-green dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A silky golden necktie encircled his collar, this one printed with sheet music that, if a demon savvy in the history of rock and roll were to look closely at, they would recognize as Jobriath’s ‘City Freak’.

Both the tie and song were favorites of the Sin, the accessory being a gift from Moxxie he was sure the imp would recognize. The prince smiled at the memory. Moxxie had agreed to appear as his stage persona in the viral ad campaign of Mammon’s favorite designer just to get this custom tie with their label.

Stepping out of his car, Mammon took a deep breath. Even through the desperation and poverty of the Pride ring slums, he could still pick up that distinct and alluring scent, one that had only grown more delicious as time passed.

A popular musician suddenly falling off the face of Hell was the kind of marketing most producers can only dream of.

He turned his gaze towards the dank office building. Game set, dice loaded, and the deck stacked in his favor, he walked inside, ignoring the gazes of the few demons in the lobby who recognized his disguised form.

‘Time to get my little lucky coin back.’

Chapter 2: We'll Meet Again- Johnny Cash

Chapter Text

“The past is never where you think you left it”

Katherine Anne Porter

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As if waiting for an emotionally heavy moment to interrupt, Blitzo burst out of his office with such force that the glass window on his door shattered once again. Moxxie internally sighed and mentally scheduled yet another trip to the hardware store as their boss began his proclamation.

“tit* up slu*ts, we need all hands on deck! Got a VIP coming up and we need to bring our A-game!”

Millie perked up. “Ooh, we got an important client?!” the farm girl chipped, her eyes already shining with excitement and bloodlust.

“Even better, but not as fun. Got the assistant of a real rich f*cker coming up. Says his boss wants to invest in our company and get us on his payroll.” Blitzo said with a smile.

“Isn’t that what Stolas already does?” Loona said as she looked up, her eyes still glazed with boredom.

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “Stolas is a tricky monthly f*ck in an under-the-table deal to get us to the surface. This guy says his boss wants to help us go legit.”

Moxxie internally winced at his boss’s…familiar choice of words. Gulping down a familiar feeling of unease, he chose to distract himself. By chastising Blitzo for his usual lack of professionalism and preparation.

“Sir, if this demon is really as important as you say, we probably should have taken more time to prepare. We don’t have a proper presentation, the office is a mess, we probably should have gotten some refreshments…”

“Ease the f*ck up Mox, this ain’t Time-Warner, we kill people for money. Besides, with the way this guy was sucking up to me to try to get a meeting these past few weeks, you can tell Prince Mammon really wants us on his payroll.”

“””PRINCE MAMMON!””” the rest of the members of IMP cried out. But while Loona and Millie had the expected look of shock, Moxxie’s expression was laced with sheer terror.

But between Blitzo’s pride and his co-worker’s surprise, no one noticed the impish thespian’s terrified expression.

Blitzo took the silence as a chance to continue. “Yeah, your business genius of a boss just hooked a real big f*cking fish this time.”

Moxxie struggled to keep himself from hyperventilating, desperate to find a reason to be anywhere else but here.

“Y-you know, sir, we really shouldn’t entertain a demon this important without at least a box of donuts. Just give me five minutes to run to the shop on the corner…” Moxxie slowly inched his way towards the exit, only for the taller imp to grab his shoulder.

“Nice try, cutie pie, but you’re staying right here. Those f*ckers from Greed always want to hear about the numbers and you’re our numbers guy. Besides, you grew up in Greed too, right? You even said you lived in Mint City with your ex-boyfriend for like, four years! This guy is from there, so you can get us an in if something goes off!”

Moxxie gulped. This wasn’t looking good for him. ‘Maybe it’s OK. Prince Mammon has probably gotten a new assistant since then. It’s been years after all…’

These thoughts were quickly proven wrong as a familiar voice came singing from the building hallway, soon accompanied by an even more familiar silhouette crossing over the frosting glass of the door.

“We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when~, but I know we’ll meet again some sunny day!~”

Johnny Cash. He always did love the classics, even if his real soft spot was for deep cuts.

The door was opened in a flourish by a well-dressed, good-looking imp, maybe an inch or two shorter than Blitzo, but still taller than both Millie and Moxxie. He was in his late twenties or early thirties, but it was hard to pinpoint which. In one immaculately manicured claw, he held a dark leather brief case with an ornate golden lock and matching clasps. On his face were oversized, but still tasteful sunglasses Moxxie immediately recognized as designer. Soul Reapers. From this year’s summer line, he believed.

Using his other hand, he pulled off the eyewear with a stylish wave, smiling at the office workers with his perfect fangs. That same smile Moxxie fell in love with what felt like a lifetime ago.

“Hello all~” he addressed in his usual charming tone. “Felix Avarice. At your service, at Prince Mammon’s insistence. Thank you so much for waiting for me, you know I’m worth it.”

He made the briefest eye contact with Moxxie, his expression growing slightly slyer as he tucked his sunglasses in his shirt pocket, moving his hand smoothly to adjust a very familiar tie. A gift from when their relationship was at its peak that doubled as a one-time bedroom prop from the night Moxxie had lashed him to the bed after an especially intense show.

The night Moxxie promised to ‘rock his world like it was ending’ while still high on that post-concert adrenalin. Which he did until his former bedroom partner screamed the safe word in a breathless voice.

‘That manipulative son of a bitch.’ Moxxie thought, darting his gaze over to his idiotic boss, who was shaking hands with the son of a bitch in question.

The shorter imp suddenly interrupted Blitzo’s introduction, yanking his boss away from the newcomer.

“BLITZOSIRTHEREISANURGENTMATTERINTHEARMORYTHATNEEDSYOURATTETIONRIGHTAWAYITCANNOTWAIT!” Moxxie shouted out in one breath as he dragged the ex-circus clown away from his ex-boyfriend.

As much as he didn’t want to leave his wife and Loona alone with him, making Blitzo understand the situation before he signed anything was more important.

Shoving a loudly protesting Blitzo into the armory, Moxxie entered, closing and locking the door behind them before turning to face his boss in the most sound-proof room in the office.

“What the f*ck were you thinking inviting him here!?” Moxxie whisper yelled.

Blitzo’s expression changed from angry to confused. “What do you mean? You know that guy or some sh*t, baby hands?”

Groaning as he rubbed his temples, Moxxie knew it was time to bite the bullet. Sighing, he resolved to only give him the bare bones, just as he had done with Millie. He already knew a little, after all.

“I know him very well sir. He’s my ex-boyfriend. The one I lived in Mint City with. The one I told you I was leaving Greed to get away from when we met.”

Blitzo blinked in rabid succession, as if that could somehow make sense of what his employee just said.

“You mean, that’s the crazy stalker ex?”

“Yes.”

“Music business guy?”

“Yes.”

“The guy you did it with on a five-star hotel bed covered in hundred soul bills?”

“YES…wait, what?”

Blitzo put a hand on Moxxie’s shoulder before giving his employee a reassuring look. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head Mox, the number one boss in Hell has got your back.”

But Moxxie’s attention was still on his previous statement. “I never told you that last thing.”

“If that penny-pinching bank-humper thinks he can waltz in here and take you from us, he’s dead-f*ckin’-wrong!”

“Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever told anyone about that. Ever.”

“Let’s go out there and tell that twink-chasing silver fox to piss right off!”

“Why do you know more about my sex life than just the things I’ve shared?”

But Moxxie never got an answer, as Blitzo was already stomping towards the door, determined to tell this interloper to f*ck off before he could screw up his OTP. Only to be stopped midway to the armory exit by his favorite employee.

“Sir, please wait!” Moxxie had forgone the whisper yelling at this point, his voice at a normal volume despite it’s frantic pitch.

“What now?” Blitzo said, his voice filled with obvious annoyance.

“As much as I don’t want him here, we can’t just tell him off and send him away. Felix has a lot of influence, not just in entertainment but in almost every kind of business in Hell! I know him, and how demons like him think. If we tell him to leave just because of me, he’ll take it as a personal insult and use that as an excuse to bury us.”

Blitzo scoffed. “Please. What could Mammon’s glorified secretary possibly do to a crew of professional assassins?”

Moxxie gulped. Here was a detail he didn’t want to share, but Blitzo wasn’t taking this seriously enough.

“Because he knows other professional assassins, sir. Lots of them…he has a lot of organized crime connections…and lots of demons from the underground who owe him ‘favors.’” Moxxie ended in a grimace.

Blitzo’s eyes widened. “What the f*ck? WHY?”

Moxxie only became more frantic in his explanation. “W-well there’s a lot of mafia activity in Greed, and Prince Mammon usually hires them to handle…messy jobs for him. Since Felix is his assistant, he’s the one who organizes these deals, so the four families are always trying to stay on his good side…”

“Don’t you mean the five families?”

“Not anymore.” Moxxie replied quickly while avoiding eye contact.

Rather than dwelling on his employee’s somewhat cryptic statement, Blitzo charged on with his outrage.

“Well, this is just f*cking great! We can’t work with the f*cker, but we also can’t tell him to leave. So, what now, gold digger?”

Ignoring the taller imp’s insult, Moxxie took a deep breath and looked Blitzo in the eyes.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. We’ll have the meeting as planned. No self-sabotage, no outbursts, no drama. We’ll listen to his pitch, pretend to talk it over alone in the conference room, but then we’ll give him an excuse that sounds both legitimate and reasonable without being too specific. Like how we don’t have enough manpower to expand right now or something. He’ll leave with no reason to ever contact us again or to seek revenge, and we pretend this never happened.”

Nodding, Blitzo replied, “OK, sounds good. What do we tell Millie and Loona?”

Moxxie’s gaze got even more serious. “Nothing. Not until he’s gone.”

“Really? You want to lie to your wife and my daughter?” Blitzo said, somewhat surprised.

“We don’t have a choice. I love Millie, but she knows some of the stuff this guy did to me. If she flies off the handle at him, there’s almost no way we could stop her or sweep a major assault under the rug. And while Loona seems smart enough to respect a high-profile demon, if she finds out he’s my ex, we can’t trust her to not say something offensive to his face.”

Blitzo still seemed skeptical but agreed. “Ok legs, sounds like a plan. Didn’t know you could be so cool under pressure.”

“Well, it’s a unique situation.” Moxxie replied with a downward gaze, walking forward to unluck the door.

“I also didn’t know you were into older guys.” Blitzo continued, back on his usual teasing. “Had I known, I would have made more of an effort when we first met!”

Moxxie rolled his eyes as he opened the door. “He’s not that much older than me. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s younger than you.”

Blitzo chuckled as he followed closely behind. Hopefully, the plan would work, and everything would be copacetic.

Then Moxxie stepped out of the armory into a scene straight from his nightmares.

His ex was sat on his desk, legs crossed casually in front of him, leaning back on one hand in a very laid-back pose.

Millie and Loona were looking at him from across the room, Loona looking somewhat queasy in her chair and Millie struggling to maintain a friendly expression, despite the rage barely concealed in her eyes. Both were listening to Felix tell a very familiar story.

One from when they had first started dating.

“…so then, Moxxie walks out into the kitchen, wearing nothing but my pajama top, asking if I had ordered up any coffee to go with the bagels and pouring himself a glass of water before he looks up and sees his dad just standing in the living room! I mean, we both have bed head, I’ve got scratches all over my back, and you can see my bite mark bruising his shoulder, there’s no hiding what we did…!” The business imp paused to try to laugh out all his giggles.

“But yeah, if looks could kill, I would have been splattered all OVER that wall. All I can say is, good thing the security check took his dad’s weapons in the lobby, otherwise I would be standing here several rounds of lead heavier.”

Felix looked over towards the sound of the heavy door opening and smiled brightly at the two imps standing there.

“Welcome back Mr. Cash, Moxxie.” He said, deliberately putting a playful inflection on the younger imp’s name. “I was just telling your coworkers a story from when we first started dating! Remember, when your dad came to pick you up and he found out about us?”

Moxxie fought to prevent himself from blushing, focusing all his emotional energy into clenching his fists at his side.

“I remember.” The freckled imp managed out past gritted teeth. “I-it’s good to see you again, Mr. Avarice. You’re looking well.”

The well-dressed imp clicked his tongue as he hopped down from the desk and made his way over to his ex. “No need to be so formal when we know each other so well, Moxxie. You know you can call me Felix.”

Moxxie, trying his best to remain professional, replied in a level tone. “If you know me so well, you should know that I don’t want an ex telling stories about our past intimate encounters to the demons I work with almost every day.”

“Wait, you were out here swapping sexy stories without me?! Not cool!” Blitzo whined. “Start over! Wait, hang on…” Blitzo paused his tantrum to dart into his office, coming back out moments later with his chair, a blanket, and a well-loved stuffed horse.

He turned his full attention back to the ex-lovers only after settling into the chair, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, and snuggling with the plush on his lap.

“OK, go!”

“NO!”

“Prude!”

Felix just chuckled at the exchange. “Relax, I kept it PG. I just felt like a quick stroll down memory lane after seeing my little lucky coin for the first time in a long time~” As he spoke, he reached over, closing the gap between himself and the thespian by gently grasping his chin in one hand, tilting the imp’s gaze back towards him.

It had the desired effect; Moxxie’s face lit up with a blush so hot it put the sun to shame, but Felix wasn’t given very long to enjoy the view before Moxxie gently brushed his hand away.

“Please, don’t start calling me that again…”

The taller imp’s expression got even more playful, as impossible as that may have seemed.

“It’s ok, I still have plenty of nicknames up my sleeve. Mox Star. My ruby in the rough. Golden Eyes. Songbird. Moxxie Doll. Il mio piccolo rischio di soffocamento.”

At the sound of the last nickname, Moxxie’s face became so red it was a wonder he didn’t pass out. Blitzo tapped his employee’s shoulder, breaking the freckled imp out of his embarrassment enough to remember to breath.

“Yo, Mox. None of us speak…foreign. What was did that last one mean?”

Moxxie’s eyes darted around the room as he nervously fiddled with his collar. “It’s Italian, and it, uh, doesn’t really translate well. You know what? Lucky coin is fine.” He blurted out, desperate for this interaction to be over.

To his surprise, Felix shook his head. “No, you’re right. It’s important to remain professional in a setting like this. How about I just call you by your old stage name, Marcel Knessuno?”

At the mention of his old stage name, Blitzo snapped to look at his weapon’s expert, and Loona jumped up from her seat, seemingly over her brief bout of nausea.

“Hold the f*ck up, are you telling me Moxxie,” Blitzo pointed at his employee, a little too close to his face, “used to be Marcel Knessuno? The Marcel Knessuno? The famous rock star and one of the best-selling musicians in Hell’s history?”

Jumping onto her adoptive father’s disbelieving tirade, Loona walked over to join in.

“The same guy who wrote ‘One Phone Call’? The famous musician who wrote and performed most of the soundtrack to the Angel Dust documentary on VoxFlix? The guy who disappeared completely five years ago?”

Blitzo chuckled through his shock. “One of the most valuable and famous imps in Hell?! The Greed Ring’s musical James Dean?!”

By this point, Loona had pulled up a picture on her phone and shoved it into the shorter demon’s face.

“This was you?! Seriously?!”

The picture on the screen was a popular promotional image and poster print from his first seven-ring tour. There was his younger self, standing tall and confident on stage with the camera looking up towards him. He wore shiny black leather pants with fashionable tears that showed off hints of fishnet stockings. His tail and spade were decorated in cuffs and fake piercings, with a matching metal cuff wrapped around one horn. His hair was messy but stylish, a purposeful attempt at bedhead, and he wore a white t-shirt with a stylized black Phantom of the Opera mask printed on it.

And of course, on top of everything else, were his signature accessories.

The mask looked like a plain black Carnival mask that only covered the top half of his face, with green tinted lenses covering his eyes.

The handcuffs were a specially designed prop, lightweight so as not to interfere with his guitar playing, made to break in the middle for some of his more involved stage numbers, though most of the time they just dangled on his dominate wrist like a bracelet (like in the picture). They were tinted a bright gold to better match his aesthetic.

The jacket hung open on his past self’s frame. Midnight black and pinstriped with gold, while not the most eye-catching from the front, it was his most iconic article of clothed from his show biz days. Replicas of much lower quality sold for hundreds of souls still today, and the design embroidered on the back was still popular on everything from t-shirts to tattoos.

He was posed with one knee sticking out in front of him, holding his guitar with the head pointed behind him. His expression was devious as he held out one cuffed hand towards his audience.

The image was one of Moxxie’s most popular posters back in the day, something he credited mostly to the photographer. It was so dynamic and vivid; the lights behind him, his outfit and pose.

You could almost hear him saying his old stage persona’s catchphrase:

“You’re all in the family now!”

Felix chimed in proudly. “Yep, that’s him! Or, well, was him. It’s a shame, but the limelight isn’t for everyone.”

Loona stood for a moment next to her not-dad and dorky co-worker, trying to process this information before blurting out the obvious question.

“Why have you never told us about this?” She said in a peeved tone as she looked down at the flustered imp.

“We’ve heard the story about how you think the worker at the Broodwich down the street put guacamole instead of avocado on your wrap on purpose at least twenty times, but you never mentioned you were a famous rock star? Really?”

“OK, first of all, I saw him watch the cashier punch in avocado, it was written on my wrapper and there was plenty of avocado right there. He had no excuse. Second of all, I’ve told you all I used to work in music! And you’ve heard Millie and I talk about it!”

Blitzo scoffed. “Yeah, we thought you just did sound mixing or played back-up guitar in some no name hotel lobby band or some sh*t!” Turning to Millie, Blitzo finally addressed the gap-toothed imp. “And why the Heaven aren’t you freaking out!”

Millie, whose jealousy and anger had subsided in watching her boss and co-worker overreact to her husband’s former career, just shrugged. “I already knew about all that.”

“Wait, really?” Felix blurted out. Outside he was still smiling deviously, but he was internally thrown into a panic. ‘If he told her everything, I may need to adjust my plan…’

“And how long have you been keeping your husband’s awesome secret past and sexy outfits from us Millie?” Blitzo asked angrily before their guest could needle any information about just how informed the country imp was about her husband’s past.

She rubbed the back of her head, smiling shyly. “Well, I thought he looked like Marcel Knessuno when we first met, but I only actually asked him a while after we started dating. I was a little surprised mahself, a country girl like me dating a real-life rock star.” Millie looked over to Blitzo. “And I thought you knew. You’ve been in our bedroom; didn’t you see the gold record with his old stage name on it?”

“Oh, I just thought he stole that.” Blitzo answered bluntly.

Ignoring his boss’s usual rudeness, Moxxie smiled at his wife, as endeared as ever to her occasional bouts of shy cuteness, especially when it came to his old music career.

‘As if I’m the one who’s too good for her…’ he thought sadly.

“It’s funny actually.” Moxxie chimed in without breaking his adoring gaze at his wife. “Millie was the first demon who didn’t already know it was me to recognize me without the mask.”

Beside him, though no one could see it through his expert poker face, IMP’s guest was furious at the way his Mox Star was looking at the other, far-less valuable imp.

‘That look is mine, THAT LOOK IS MINE, T̷͇̅̋̌̋H̷̡̩̤̗͚̠̝͇̓̕Ä̴̡̦̩̪̟̬͎̼̭́̈͝T̷̬̤̻̮͖͎̗͕̈̽̈̓̔̽̀̆̚ͅ ̵̠̒̑̊͆̽̌̈́͘L̵̲͍̳̋͐͌̋̿͒̈́̄̈́O̸̘͈̼͔̭̅͂͆̃́̽̌̕͠O̵͔̼̯̼̅͂̾͛̈̂K̸̥͈̪͓͒̀ ̵̧̩͕̫͗̈́̕͘I̵̢͇̠̫͙͍̰͉̬͐̿̎S̶̲̤̈͛̓̈͌͒̈́͝ ̶͍͐̎̈̓̋͋͒̚M̶̧͈̱̲̎́͛̀͛͐̃I̶̛̫̠̜̎̈̃͋̈́̒̂N̶̡͕͚̺͇̟̠̼̱̓̄̃̆È̶̙̋͗͗…’

Blitzo cut into the moment as tactless as ever.

“So everybody else got to know about a cool version of Moxxie, huh? OK Mox, I see how it is! Apparently, you’re only cool and sexy around the demons willing to suck your teeny-weeny! Well, that could be me, if you weren’t such a nerdy prude these days!”

Moxxie rolled his eyes. “Sir, please just drop it. Don’t we have a meeting with Felix we’re supposed to be in the middle of?”

“Moxxie has a point, Mr. Cash.” Felix cut in; glad the idiot’s outburst was enough to break Moxxie’s gaze from the other imp. “We really should get started. Time is money after all.”

As Blitzo guided their guest to the conference room, Moxxie pulled his wife aside.

“Are you OK?” he asked in a hushed tone. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone with him like that, but I didn’t think he’d…”

“You need to stop doing that baby.” Millie cut in.

“I’m sorry?” Moxxie asked confused.

The country imp smirked at her dorky husband. “That. Apologizing for assholes. It’s a waste of time. ‘Cause they’re gonna keep being assholes, and yer gonna have to keep apologizing for them.”

The happily married demons looked at each other sweetly and deeply, eventually grasping each other’s hands. It was a nice moment that was predictably ruined.

“Yeah, whatever, how about you apologize to me? Your ex’s story has me f*cking traumatized.” Loona said from her desk chair not looking the least bit traumatized. “Or at least pay for all the therapy I’m gonna need since we all know you’re apparently secretly rich!” The hellhound snarked.

In reality, she was still reeling from the realization that her dorky, fat-assed co-worker was her fifteen-year-old self’s celebrity crush. A fact she was now determined to take to her grave.

Rolling his eyes, Moxxie simply followed Millie into the conference room, grabbing the budget reports off his desk on the way in.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“…and that’s typically how much of our monthly income we spend on ammo and weapon maintenance, barring any major damage to the armory. Now, as for disguises and office amenities…” As Moxxie droned on, Blitzo struggled to keep his eyes open. But Millie noticed Felix’s eyes shining, completely enraptured as Moxxie went over how much they typically spent on coffee filters and nine-caliber bullets.

‘You’d think Mox was singing him a love ballad!’ Millie thought, feeling a tad disturbed under her thin layer of jealousy.

“…but of course, this is all based on a monthly average, not a set monthly budget. As we do kills free-lance here, the flow of clients does tend to fluctuate quite a bit.” The freckled imp finished.

Felix stood up, giving a polite clap which was enough to startle Blitzo from his nap, prompting the scar-covered imp to start clapping too.

“Brilliant, as usual, Mox. You always did have a good head for numbers~” The rich imp all but purred, standing up and walking towards the head of the table.

“Oh, I thought we were clapping because it was over.” Blitzo blurted, much to his employee of the month’s displeasure.

Ignoring the clownish imp’s rudeness, Felix shouldered up to Moxxie, putting his briefcase down on the table.

“Never hurts to have someone from Greed running your numbers. Go ahead and take a seat, Moxxie. But not too fast.” The taller demon added with a flirty wink as Moxxie went to sit next to his glaring wife.

“Now, I’m sure you’re all wondering what kind of offer his highness Mammon has in store for your company. He needs a team of discreet professionals with top-side experience to keep an eye on, and, if need be, dispose of the mortal lives of some of his high-profile soul contracts.”

“Why would he need that?” Millie asked in confusion.

Felix waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, you know how humans are. When they’re nineteen, they’re all about selling their immortal soul to the first buyer in exchange for fame and fortune, twenty years of fun on their contract-owner’s dime later, they get buyer’s remorse. Turn to begging to the big, bearded bastard in the sky for help instead of taking responsibility for their Faustian pacts like adults.”

Blitzo scrunched up his face in confusion. “Does that even work?”

Felix smirked. “How do you think Monroe outran her debts? If sky-daddy wasn’t such a sucker for kiss-ups, she’d be down here, talking about how she only wears ‘Sweet Smell of Excess’ to bed. The new female fragrance by Mammon.”

Opening up his briefcase, Felix began to pull out packets, printed on thick, smooth paper stock and neatly bound, which he passed to the IMP assassins.

“But it’s so much bigger than just entertainers. These days, Mr. M has just about everybody who’s anybody on his count. We’re talking human politicians, crime lords, mega-church pastors and more! And given the risk involved in taking on so many high-profile targets, his highness is willing to not only provide transport, but to also add all of you on as salaried workers, so no more worrying about free-lance jobs running dry. Full benefits too.” He finished with smile as he watched the other demons pour over the packets.

Moxxie diligently poured through his copy, shocked at how…generous this sounded. He knew Felix to be a great negotiator, but right now he was passing out perks like Halloween candy! He usually didn’t put so many chips down straight away.

‘This is too good to be true.’ Moxxie thought. ‘No way is he not up to something.’

“And of course, with a royal’s official seal, you guys will be living the honest life.” His eyes flicked over to Moxxie briefly, making the imp turn his gaze down. An action quickly noticed by his wife, who shot him a concerned look, but said nothing. Felix continued.

“Mr. M is willing to provide safe, reliable transport to the living world, magical human disguises, even a monthly budget for weapons and supplies. How’s it sound so far?”

“Sounds like you’re blowing a hot load of smoke up my fine ass.” Blitzo snarked as he leant back in his chair.

Unperturbed, the gold-wearing imp just tilted his head. “Oh? Why is that?”

Blitzo sat up and slammed a fist on the table. “Don’t f*ck with me, you sexy American-Psycho looking bitch. Your boss offers all the right things, then the second you sign his contract, he rips the rug out from under you, rolls it up, and beats you over the head with it!”

Moxxie internally sighed. ‘So much for no outbusts…’

Felix gave a soft chuckle. “You haven’t been looking through the papers I prepared, have you Mr. Cash?”

Predictably, the founder of IMP hadn’t even touched the booklet. You could still see the indentions where he had his boots propped up on the cover.

“Page 12. You’ll be official members of Mammon’s management division, complete with his seal and the benefits listed, but no contracts. You’ll be operating as ‘consulting contractors’. You know what that means?”

Blitzo and Millie looked confused, but Moxxie stood up in disbelief.

“You’re kidding, right? His highness would never…”

Felix shrugged. “You know how he is. If it’s quality, he doesn’t mind paying extra~”

“OK, ease up on the business jargon.” Said the imp who just earlier had referred to himself as a business genius.

Not bothering to hide his exasperated expression Moxxie turned to the ‘business genius’.

“Basically, it means that even though we’ll be sponsored by Prince Mammon, we’ll still have the ability to operate as free agents. We can still take on free-lance clients, and keep their payments alongside the salaried pay the prince is offering us.”

Blitzo’s eyes shone. “Holy f*ck! That jumbo clown cuck must really want us on board!”

Felix’s smile widened. “He really does~”

Moxxie looked in panic between his boss and his ex. He could already see Felix was getting Blitzo to come around.

“Sir, don’t you think…”

“Well, we’ve been cooped up in here long enough.” Felix interrupted, stretching his arms behind his head. “Why don’t we stretch our legs and grab some coffee before you folks have to come back in here to discuss Mr. M’s offer? I saw that you have a fresh pot in your lobby~”

“Sounds good!” Blitzo practically shouted, not bothering to look at his clearly distressed weapon expert.

The failed circus clown marched out into the lobby, loudly greeting his adoptive daughter. Millie was close behind, shooting one last glare at the Prince of Greed’s assistant as she left. Moxxie sighed and moved to follow his beautiful wife and sort-of friend out of the meeting room.

“For someone who used to have such big dreams, you’re a real cynic now, aren’t you, my little lucky coin?”

Of course, Felix was standing in the doorway.

“What do you want?” Moxxie said in a low whisper.

The taller imp shrugged, checking for dirt under the claws of one hand. “It’s not about what I want, Mox Star. It’s about what everyone else wants. What my boss wants, what your boss wants,” His eyes took on a knowing look as he made eye contact with the impish musician. “What you want.”

“What are you talking about?” Moxxie’s expression got even harder.

“You know, it was a real shock finding out you work here.” Felix ignored his question. “Never thought I’d ever see you back in this line of work by choice. Bet your dad would be thrilled.”

The shock and horror in the younger demon’s eyes told the best negotiator in Hell everything he needed to know.

‘So he hasn’t told them everything.’ He thought. ‘Lucky me.’

The taller imp left his former bedmate standing frozen in his shocked state to join the other demons in the main room of the office.

Blitzo was, predictably, going over Felix’s offer loudly with his daughter/secretary, who was largely disinterested in favor of whatever was on her desktop screen. The scarred imp was exaggerating his own role in the meeting, but his prideful boasting, as grating as it was, would be hilarious the moment the rose-tinted glasses were lifted from the cheap harlequin’s eyes.

‘You don’t talk about the details of a first offer out loud like that, you idiot. You’re just as bad a businessman as your father.’

His smile widened despite himself. Buckzo. If there was ever a demon who needed to learn how to quit while he was ahead, it was that one.

‘Heard Crimmie had to use the heavy-duty anchor hooks to mount that one. At least the old goat’s horns look half decent up there.’

Seeing the farm-grown imp by the coffee pot, he smirked, making his way over to the shorter demon.

“Smells like a good americano.” He said, right behind her.

Millie turned in a start to see her husband’s ex standing inches from her back, smiling down at her. She managed to swallow her building rage and smile at the taller demon.

“Yeah, it’s great, even in this lousy dollar store coffee pot B won’t replace.”

He moved forward to stand beside her. “Moxxie must pick out the coffee for the office, huh? Mr. Cash seems more like an instant type to me.” He reached for a disposable cup, taking note of the ceramic mugs the female imp had set in front of her.

‘Matching mugs…how…tacky. Hope my little lucky coin’s tastes haven’t been too tainted by this one.’

“Hey, is that story you told true? About meeting Mox’s dad?” His spirits lifted, thinking about how he could have fun with this scene.

“Oh, that wasn’t how I met Crim. That’s just how he found out Moxxie and I were dating.” He reached out, in front of her stilled hand, and took the coffee carafe, taking the time to fill the ceramic mug decorated with music notes before filling his Styrofoam cup. He made a big show of putting it back on the machine’s element rather than handing it to her before turning to face the Wrathian.

“Funny thing is, I actually met his father before I met Moxxie. You could even say he introduced us.” He smiled as he poured some sugar into his cup and grabbed a wooden stirrer.

“Really?” the younger demon tried to hide the look of sad betrayal in her eyes. But she couldn’t. Not from him.

So, he decided to grind it in harder. “Yeah. Guess you could call me a friend of the family.”

The country imp broke away from his intense eye contact to pour her cup. “Thing is, with the way Moxxie talks about his father, I guess I just assumed he wasn’t in the picture anymore.”

“Oh?” He said, letting his eyes fill with malicious glee. “So he hasn’t introduced you to any of his family yet?”

Her expression said it all.

He shrugged, and took on a tone of fake understanding. “Well, all relationships move at a different pace. How long have you two been dating?”

Her grip on the carafe intensified to the point of cracking the plastic handle. “We’re married. We’ve been married over a year now, actually.” She growled out between gritted teeth.

“Ah. Sorry, didn’t see any rings.” He reached out to pour some sugar into Moxxie’s mug, only to have the shorter imp snatch the mug away.

“I can fix my husband’s coffee MYSELF!” she huffed, grabbing a carton of powdered creamer to pour into the thespian’s mug.

“Can you?” His smirk grew ever smugger. “Because you’re about to pour in the wrong creamer.” One infuriatingly perfect hand pushed the tilted carton away from the mug before reaching for a different carton.

“Moxxie always uses an extra-rich creamer when it’s a dark roast. He says the extra fat helps with the acidity and improves the texture without affecting the overall flavor profile.”

He poured in the creamer, pausing to still in the powder before adding a dash of sugar to stir in as well.

“But Moxxie has always been demon with a love for finer things.” He gave the mug a gentle push to slide it back towards her. “I mean, he’ll drink something else, but he always goes back to a richer taste.”

And with that final cold statement, he took his own cup and walked way, leaving a steaming-mad Millie behind him.

She had to fight the urge to pommel the smug rich bastard as she took her and Moxxie’s coffees to the conference room that the little thespian still hadn’t left for some reason.

“OK, that’s a long enough recess! M&M, make room for daddy ‘cause we got a lot to discuss! Loonie-Poo, stay out here and keep Mr. Avarice company!” Blitzo declared to the office. Loona gave him a half-hearted thumbs up without looking away from her computer.

The taller imp slammed the conference room door behind him, leaving the hellhound alone with Moxxie’s ex.

The silence only lasted a moment before the more professionally dressed of the two spoke up, addressing the gothic secretary.

“So, how do you like working here? All of you, I mean.”

“I mean, it’s fine, I guess.” Loona replied, reserving her precious eye contact for the celebrity gossip site in front of her.

“Bet learning about Moxxie’s old career was quite a shock.” He continued, unbothered by her indifference. Loona’s mind flashed to the poster image she had pulled up, the same one she had ripped from a discarded magazine and hung up in her cell when she was still at the shelter…

“Yeah, whatever.” She snarked, deciding to go with her wheelhouse and hide her true feelings behind some verbal cruelty directed at her favorite whipping imp. “It was a bigger shock to find out he actually had an ex.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. Hey, props to you for having the guts to admit it!” Loona smiled her usual post-insult smirk before turning back to her desktop.

In doing so, she missed the way Felix’s eyes filled with displeasure, while his smile remained constant. She didn’t look back up when he walked over to the wall, or when he bent down towards the outlet.

She only finally looked up when he unplugged her monitor.

“Hey!” she cried indignantly, getting up to restore her screen-time, only to be stopped by Mr. Avarice putting both hands down on her desk with a loud ‘thump’.

“Your boss told you to keep me company. Call me old fashioned, but I believe if someone is paying you to do something, you should at least try to do it to the best of your ability.”

There was something in his voice that made Loona sit back down, her attention completely focused on the businessman.

He stood up straight, keeping one hand on her desk. “Good. Now let’s talk. I rarely get to slow down and have a normal conversation.”

Loona swallowed her nerves, trying to focus on fiddling with her hands on the desk.

Felix continued. “Mr. Cash told me he adopted you from a hellhound shelter as a teenager, is that right?”

Loona nodded.

Felix’s gaze seemed to soften, allowing Loona to breath a little easier. “Most hellhounds are from Gluttony, aren’t they? I have a sister who lives there, but I’ve spent most of my life in Greed myself.”

He started to thrum his fingers. “You know, funny thing about my sister, we keep having the same argument. She keeps insisting that greed is technically a form of gluttony.”

“Oh, really?” the twenty-something asked, relieved that the other demon seemed to have calmed down.

The imp in front of her sighed. “Yes, but it’s not just her. So many demons these days just don’t get the difference.”

“What is the difference?” Loona asked, not seeing how his clawed hand was inching towards her own paw.

“It’s very simple. Greed is, in part, about recognizing value. About seeing something rare or precious, and wanting it for yourself. Gluttony, on the other hand, well,” his left hand darted forward, quick as lightning, and he pinned her right wrist under one thumb, applying pressure where her hand met her arm in an incredibly painful way.

“Gluttony, in my experience, has no standards. It’s all about getting more and more, sure, but there’s no eye for quality. Just the same mass-produced junk. The stuff that smart demons who can actually discern things like quality and value use to make a profit off those who are stupid enough to keep shoveling the same garbage down their gullets, day in and day out.”

He twisted his thumb as he spoke, adding a new layer to Loona’s pain. She should blow up at him, hit him with her free hand, f*ck it, even call Blitzo for help! But she was frozen, some instinct deep inside her telling her she couldn’t win or run, no matter what. So she just sat there, frozen, struggling not to let him see how much pain she was in.

“And nowhere is that better emphasized than in hellhound mutts like you.” His claw was beginning to slice into her skin, darkening her fur with a pinpoint of black blood.

“Y-you’re hurting me a little.” Loona managed out, trying to keep her voice steady and failing.

His eye contact softened again for a moment.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. It was supposed to hurt a lot.” With one more violent twisting motion, the imp put even more pressure on the hellhound’s already throbbing wrist. The result was a soft ‘pop-crack’ sound, and a pain unlike any Loona had ever felt before.

She opened her mouth to howl out in pain, only for Mr. Avarice to utilize his quick reflexes once again, snapping her maw closed with his free hand before any sound could escape.

“Shhh. I didn’t tell you to speak.”

Terrified red eyes met luminous yellow ones filled with joyful cruelty and malice.

“I will try to make this quick, Alpo breath. I don’t like it when people misjudge the value of my things. Moxxie is a star. A literal star, a gem who has accomplished more in his life than most demons have ever dreamed of. Compared to that, what have you done?”

His smile only grew bigger, eyes shining. Wait, were they green just now?

“If Moxxie is a gem, what does that make you? I can’t even bring myself to call you counterfeit jewelry, because at least some thought and care goes into making those. You’re more like a cheap gumball machine ring someone fished out of the gutter on a whim. Even if you occasionally manage to catch some glint of light, it’s clear to everyone that you’re just garbage.”

He finally lifted his thumb from her wrist, and with a flicking gesture of his left hand she only caught from the corner of her eye, he popped her hand back in place, never once breaking eye contact.

“I’m going to let go of you now. But I don’t want you sharing the details of our conversation with anyone, understand? Not your father, not your co-worker, and especially not Moxxie. I can make life very difficult for all of you; I’ve done it before over a lot less.”

With that, the older demon let go of Loona’s mouth and took a step back. Even so, Loona still reared back in her chair, holding her surprisingly not swollen wrist, staring at the imp in abject horror.

‘How the f*ck did Moxxie even meet this guy?’ she thought frantically as the newcomer smiled at his handiwork.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

While Loona and Felix were ‘conversing’, Blitzo was trying to calm a raging Millie.

“You can’t actually be considering taking his deal, Blitzo!” Millie cried, chasing her boss with one of the many hunting knives she always kept on her person.

She lunged at him, only for him to dodge at the last second, causing her to get her knife stuck in the conference table.

He tried to explain himself and catch his breath in the brief respite he had before the farm girl managed to free her blade.

“Millie, I know you’re upset. But just because this guy used to bang your husband doesn’t mean I can just ignore a great business opportunity like this! This could be our chance to be somebodies! To be rich and important!”

Moxxie stomped over to his boss, grabbing him by the shoulder and looking him in the eye with the most serious look the horse-lover had ever seen on the smaller imp.

“Sir, we discussed this. Felix is bad news, we cannot get involved with him, no matter what he promises!”

The taller imp rolled his eyes. “Your opinion doesn’t count, Moxxie. You already got to be rich and important, and then you decided to become poor and boring instead. You don’t get to take away our right to choose!”

“OK, that is definitely not what that slogan was intended for.”

By this time, Millie had freed her knife, climbed onto the conference table, and took a running leap at her boss. This time she landed on his back, but Blitzo managed to grab her knife hand before she could start stabbing.

“Can either of you give me a legit reason not to take the deal that will put us on the map?”

Moxxie folded his arms. “Yes, I can. This deal is way too good to be true and you know it! You spent a good portion of your life in Greed too, you know how this works. Once they have you looking one way, they’ve already won the game in front of you. Trust me, nothing good will come of working with him.”

Blitzo sighed and groaned, but he knew Moxxie was right.

“Fine, we’ll go out there and tell him we don’t have enough man juice to expand or whatever.”

“Manpower, sir.”

“Same damn thing.”

Blitzo burst back into the lobby, where he found their guest standing in front of his daughter’s desk, who, surprisingly wasn’t staring at a screen of any kind.

“Hey you two! Things didn’t get too boring out here, right?”

Felix smiled at the flamboyant ex-clown. “No, I was just enjoying a nice conversation with your daughter. She’s a real gem.” He shot the hellhound a quick look as he turned to face the scarred imp, causing the canine demon to flinch in her seat.

This went unnoticed by her father, who was giving most of his attention to the smartly dressed imp in front of him.

“Now, what’s the verdict, Mr. Cash? Are you willing to accept Prince Mammon’s deal?”

Blitzo began to wring his hands. “Well, about that, you see, we’ve talked it over, and…”

“How do you like this building, by the way?”

“Sorry, what?”

Felix smiled as he laid down the charm.

“Well, a whole floor just opened up in Mammon’s Gilded Garden in Pentagram city. Mr. M said he’s willing to rent it to IMP for a low price if you’re willing to take his deal. It’s only the eighth floor, but it’s a great view, plus you and your employees will have full access to the building amenities. Gym, spa, cafeteria, valet parking, the works. Plus, I hear this floor has a gorgeous corner office, perfect for the boss.”

Moxxie, who had been listening from close behind Blitzo, reached to grab the taller imp by the shoulder again.

“Sir, don’t…”

“Deal!” He shouted, eagerly shaking the well-dressed imp’s hand, much to the shock and anger of all his employees.

“Terrific. Now, there’s a lot of paperwork to go over and ‘legalise’ to discuss, but it’ll be better if you all just come to my place in Mint City tomorrow so I have a little time to prepare everything. Now, I could send over a car, or…”

“We’ll drive over ourselves in the company van.” Moxxie interrupted before his unhinged boss could give his ex-boyfriend even more leverage to use against them.

Felix smiled warmly at the shorter imp. “Whatever makes you comfortable. I trust you remember where our old place is, Golden Eyes.”

And with that, the fast-talking demon left.

And mere seconds after he was out the door, Blitzo was being pelted by random office supplies coming from three different directions.

“Ow, ow, ok, OW! That stapler was full!”

“WE HAD A PLAN, BLITZO!” Moxxie howled. “WE HAD A PLAN, AND YOU JUST GAVE IT UP FOR A f*ckING CORNER OFFICE!?” He threw a cup full of pens.

“HOW COULD YOU SHAKE THAT BASTARD’S HAND! I TOLD YOU WHAT HE SAID TO ME!” Millie screamed, searching frantically opening another box of thumbtacks to chuck at her boss.

“YOU LEFT ME ALONE WITH THAT PYSCHO!” Loona was digging through her waste basket for empty beer bottles she could shatter for more ammo.

“OK, can we all just calm the f*ck down, and I will hear your complaints one at a time.” Blitzo said, picking the staples out of his jacket.

“There’s no need, sir. We all have the same complaint; namely that you’ve agreed to accept the deal and consented, on our parts as well, to meet with him again! The very thing I told you we needed to avoid!” Moxxie huffed out furiously.

“I don’t want to be around some smug bastard who clearly still has a thing for my husband!” Millie raged.

“I’ve got to agree with fatty and the old lady for once; that guy is scary. Like, scary in a way I didn’t know one of you guys could be scary.” Loona said, her eyes desperate.

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “Will you all unclench already? Felix is just Mammon’s assistant, remember? We won’t be working for him, we’ll probably barely ever see him again once the deal goes through.”

“And in the meantime?” Moxxie needled. “Sir, Felix has a serious crazy streak. It isn’t safe for us to be around someone that unstable…”

“Moxxie, are you forgetting who you’re talking to? Your hot rich ex may have a crazy streak, but I have the crazy world record. Or are you forgetting about all those cameras I managed to sneak into your shower?”

“How is this supposed to reassure me?”

“It’s reassuring because I can recognize the difference between the dangerous kinds of crazy from the charming kinds of crazy. Trust me, this guy is mid-tier crazy at best. Talk to me when he has a custom body pillow with your picture on it!”

“Wait, what?!”

As her husband and boss went off onto another tangent argument, Millie let her mind wander. Moxxie never said much about his family, except that he and his daddy never got along. Millie always assumed that from the use of past tense, and the fact she never met the man, that he had passed.

‘Why hasn’t he introduced me to any of his family?’ Millie thought hopelessly. She was brought out of these thoughts by her boss’s obnoxious voice.

“Besides, how smart can GQ out there be if he’s the one who came up with your stage persona? I mean, I get that it’s a popular kink down here, but you as the son of a major crime family? HA!”

Moxxie chuckled nervously. “Heh heh, yeah. What was he thinking?” Inside, however, he was already trying to think up some good final words.

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A well-dressed imp got into the back of a large, fancy car, where he promptly shed his disguise, sprouting back up into his true clownish form.

Mammon stretched out his limbs before pulling out a cell phone and calling a certain ‘friend’ of his.

“Hello sir, always good to hear from you.” Came the cigar-weathered voice from the other end.

‘Always such a suck-up.’ The prince of Greed thought.

“The meeting went well. The idiot agreed to bring his whole office to Greed tomorrow. Moxxie will be there alongside two more bargaining chips. I don’t need him to get suspicious and make another run for it, so be sure to show up on time.”

“Yes sir. Uh, where are we meeting, exactly?”

“Where else, Crimmie? Me and Mox’s old love nest.” The prince answered gleefully.

Despite not being able to see him, Mammon knew the Don’s face was most likely twisted in disgust. In the manner of most crime bosses, Crimson Knolastname was an unrepentant hom*ophobe.

However, he was more than willing to let his son be in a relationship with another man after finding out the ways it could benefit the family. Just the money from Moxxie’s music alone padded their family fund with enough cash to make up for three sons.

Add in all the under the table benefits and royal jobs Mammon was giving the Knolastname syndicate, and Crim was practically planning a wedding!

Crimson was also the first demon Mammon blamed when Moxxie disappeared. Clearly, the poor little imp just couldn’t handle being loved! Not to mention how it was Crimson’s training that taught Moxxie how to disappear so effectively anyway.

But now he had a chance to take back what was his. All he had to do was remind his Songbird about everything he did for him, and the good memories would take care of the rest.

“You remember your job, I hope?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Good. I’ll be counting on you, Crimmie. Don’t let me down again.” And with that, the prince hung up, putting the phone back in his pocket, and taking out a bundle of silky fabric to play with instead.

It really was a gorgeous tie, just his style. And he could tell that Moxxie had recognized it, both it’s origin and a rather…fun memory they had made with it.

‘We’ll be making some new memories like that very soon~’ the jester demon mused to himself, running the tie between his fingers.

Moxxie thought he didn't notice, but he saw them. The cute doodles all over his paperwork. While good with the books, Songbird tended to let his mind wander while he worked.

Seeing the drawings, their secret symbols on those budget reports, made his ancient black heart jump and sing in his chest. His Mox Star still thought about him...that would make what was coming next so much easier.

Chapter 3: Father to Son - Queen

Chapter Text

“Educate your children about abusive personalities, to prepare them for the possibility of meeting such people”

-Joan Ambu

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Moxxie had been staying in Mint City for a week now. He had been set up at the Peridot Palace, in one of their long-term suites. It was only four stars, but it was still much nicer than what the vast majority of demons could afford. Classy, clean, and with full access to the hotel’s amenities.

A gym, a spa, an Olympic sized pool, and an in-house restaurant with fully stocked bar were his to explore on Mammon’s tab. Every other potential star that he had high hopes for made full use of the opportunity when staying at the Palace, (something the embodiment of Greed would charge them for, with interest, if they failed to meet his expectations or sell well enough), but Moxxie had barely left his room.

He only left for recording sessions with Felix at a nearby studio or for quick trips to a local corner store for groceries.

It was clear that he was avoiding spending time with Felix outside of work; he visited the Palace several times, checking the spa and restaurant, hoping to catch the younger demon in a more casual setting to no avail. He knew why this was happening. Moxxie was terrified. Of his father, of growing closer, and of his own obvious attraction to Mammon’s “assistant”.

Despite being literal Hell, hom*ophobia was still present in every ring aside from Lust. Most noticeably in Pride, but it was also very prevalent in Greed and Wrath, the two rings being hotbeds of toxic masculine standards.

Personally, Mammon didn’t get why there was such a big hang up around it. Maybe because he was as old as the concept of greed itself, maybe because it reminded him of his own dearest daddy’s hypocritical rules, but he saw no harm in it. They were already in Hell, how much further could they fall?

But that didn’t stop other demons from using every available opportunity to spit on anyone they saw as beneath them, even if they had to make up the reason.

So, Mammon decided to approach Moxxie gently. To try to glean out just how much of his father’s teachings made it to heart. That’s why, during their next recoding session, after an especially energetic song Moxxie had titled “The Wall of Maim”, Felix brought the imp a chilled bottle of water and asked why he had been cooping himself up in his room.

“Most of the talent I bring to the city for Mr. M jump on the first opportunity to have some fun. Someone else is footing the bill, after all.”

Moxxie pretended to tune his guitar, clearly caught off guard. “I-I just don’t have clothes that would be appropriate for that.”

That was true; most of what Moxxie owned were his suits, which while cute and classic, would make him an easy mark in Mint City. Too obvious as old money. And while common demons feared Crimson, Moxxie had yet to be officially introduced to the world at large as his son, meaning that outside of Notamafia Town, his family’s reputation wouldn’t do much to help him.

Most everything else was probably pajamas or lounge wear, and while Mammon could admit to wanting to see the would-be mafioso in those too, they also wouldn’t be good city wear.

It was a solid excuse, which is why Mammon cancelled Moxxie’s next recording appointment without telling the imp. He still picked him up as usual, but they passed the studio and started heading toward the shopping district.

“We’re taking the day off from recording. We need to do some shopping, update your wardrobe.” Felix explained when he felt the freckled imp’s anxiety spike. In hindsight, he probably should have given him a heads up. Poor thing looked ready to tuck and roll out of the car the minute they passed their usual destination.

“Why would we need to do that?” Moxxie asked, his heartbeat slowing down as he realized this wasn’t that kind of drive.

“It’s important that all Mammon’s stars maintain a certain image of success and fun. You can’t do that with your current look, and you definitely can’t do that locked up in your room. So, we’re going to make a day of it. Get you some new threads and ease you into the city’s social scene.”

Moxxie started to protest. “No, thank you but that’s not necessary, we don’t even know if Prince Mammon will like my music, and besides, I really don’t want to waste any more of his highness’s money…”

“If that’s your main concern, then don’t sweat it. I’m covering it.” Felix smiled at the younger imp. “And don’t you dare tell me not to. I know a good investment when I see one.”

Moxxie’s eyes met with his, and he blushed, a bit softer than before, but his eyes were still wide and shining with gratitude.

The driver dropped them off at the Mirabilia Mall, where Felix immediately enlisted the help of a personal shopper.

She listened to Felix’s ideas and the concept he had in mind, than gave Moxxie a once over before dragging both imps through a plethora of different shops. Felix would talk to the managers or owners while the personal shopper ordered around the various shop employees. They would bring him outfits, and Felix and the shopper would either approve or insist on some kind of adjustment.

At Felix’s insistence, Moxxie was forbidden from looking at the price tags or receipts.

“It’s very rude to ask how much a gift costs.” He said teasingly.

After three hours of ruthlessly efficient shopping, both imps thanked the personal shopper and had a couple of store workers carry out the dozens of boxes and bags containing Moxxie’s new wardrobe.

Moxxie was excited. He had only ever been allowed to wear what his dad picked out, so these new clothes, though some a bit more out there than he would have preferred, felt like such…rebellion.

He even wore one of the new ensembles out of the mall! A pair of faded jeans with rips at the knees, a cool blue shirt under a neutral plaid button-up, left unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up. A black choker and a pair of round non-prescription glasses completed the look. His hair was a bit messy from changing in and out of so many outfits, but Felix insisted it worked with his new look.

After seeing him in the new outfit, the older imp formed his pointer fingers and thumbs into a square, framing Moxxie up as if he was going to take a picture.

“Coffee-house casual with a hint of youthful rebellion. Perfect lunch outfit.”

Moxxie shyly glanced down. “You really don’t have to, you’ve already done so much…”

Felix waved off his concerns again. “I already told you, even potential talents working under Mammon need to seen out and about, building up buzz and having fun. You don’t want your new clothes to go to waste, do you?”

Moxxie shook his head, having been raised to never waste anything, especially a gift.

The older demon smiled. “Excellent. There’s a great café not to far from here, I’ll call ahead and reserve a table.”

The café, called Gold Leaf Grotto, was great. A posh modern environment sporting all-you-can-drink gourmet coffees and a club style menu. As it was in one of the cleaner, safer parts of Mint City, Felix had gotten them a table outside.

He ordered a lobster roll with a side of seafood salad and organic kettle chips, while Moxxie got a simple chicken Caesar club with roasted root veggies. Notably, one of the cheapest combos on the menu.

“You can order what you like, you know. Like I said earlier, today is on me.” Felix started as their server walked away with their orders.

Moxxie shrugged. “I know, I just don’t want you to feel put out by me. You’ve already been so nice, I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Did your dad tell you that you were putting me out?”

The younger demon’s face, to his credit, only showed a hint of his true panic.

“N-no, it’s just that…”

Felix chuckled. “Moxxie, relax. He can’t hear you from here. And I’d never tell anyone. Trust me, I’ve dealt with a terrible father before.”

Moxxie looked up in surprise. “Really? But you seem so…put together…”

The older demon shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of time to get over it. Of course, having siblings who went through it with me helped.”

“You have siblings?”

“Yep. There’s seven of us, including me.”

The freckled thespian’s eyes showed a glint of jealousy. “Must have been nice, being able to have someone there for you all the time.”

“Honestly? It has it’s ups and downs, namely when we were all still under one roof. Our dad tended to play favorites, you see.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be sorry for me, be sorry for my oldest brother. He was the old man’s favorite, right up until he started dating anyway.”

The little imp perked up. “Oh really? What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It was the girl he brought home. Apparently, dad had tried to set her up with this other guy, but my brother went and snatched her up when the first guy turned out to be an insecure prick.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“Yeah, but it really pissed him off. Went into a whole rage fit and kicked him out for good. Apparently, the guy he tried to set up with her first was like a son to him or something.”

Moxxie scoffed. “So why was it a big deal if his own son went out with her?”

Felix smirked. “That is exactly what Louis said. He got back at them though. He found the new girl dad was setting up with the guy. Had a really interesting conversation about what her role in all this drama was. I don’t think it was all his fault, but dad still blamed him for what she and her new boyfriend did next.”

“Still sounds like your dad overreacted.”

“And then some. He actually kicked the rest of us out for taking Louis’s side, than just kept picking petty fights with us for years before cutting us off completely. Not quite the ‘meet the parents’ moment from the Hallmark movies.”

The younger imp giggled. “Still, at least your brother got that far. I can’t even imagine introducing someone to my dad.”

At this point, the food had arrived, but both demons were too engrossed in their conversation to do any more than pick at it. They went on like that for some time, swapping stories about their crazy families and sh*tty dads until the proper time to eat lunch had long passed and their food went cold.

Moxxie suggested getting some to-go boxes, but Felix insisted that it was fine to just leave it to be cleaned up.

They began to get up to leave, when they overheard the words of a couple of brutish-looking loan sharks passing by, these being much louder than anything they could have been meant not to hear.

“Yuck, I can’t believe they let fa*ggots like that eat here. Thought this was a nice place.”

“Seriously. Hope they burn those chairs when they’re done.”

The thugs broke out in uproarious laughter, before walking on past the café and down into an alley.

The end result had Moxxie staring down at the ground again, once again shut off to the world and his dining companion. Felix, however, seemed unfazed.

“Why don’t you go inside and order us a couple of fruit smoothies to go, since we didn’t eat much.” The taller imp said, handing Moxxie a bundle of bills. “Get me the guava-mango with a protein booster. I’ll call the driver to pick us up”

His companion nodded despondently, taking the cash before heading inside. As soon as he was no longer in the other demon’s sight, Felix started down the sidewalk, into the alley the punks had gone down.

He had recognized their colors. Low-level soldiers from the Whowantztokno family, a syndicate known for its high employment turnover and low cuts.

‘Buy cheap, buy twice.’ He thought, making his way silently toward the low lives.

Eventually one of them noticed his shadow looming over them, looking up to see one of the imps he had mocked moments ago coming towards them. He nudged his buddy, and they both looked up at the demon, smirking.

“Did you get bored of Tiny Twink, Wallstreet? ‘Cause if so, we know some guys who are real into the young and cute ones. Of course, you may not get him back in one piece.”

The Sin incognito ignored their nasty taunts, instead focusing on the song he was humming as he traced a single claw down the wall to his left side.

Mammon often got flack for the state of the environment in his ring, usually from Satan who took way too much pride in the natural scenery of his own. The place had been turning toxic since he opened up his first gold mine and had shown no sign of being cleaned up anytime soon.

But it had its benefits. Sometime during the Industrial Revolution, he had noticed something new and interesting in himself. A new ability caused by the constant downpours of high-acidity rain and record-breaking concentration of radioactive ions in the soil. One he was going to show off here and now.

Everywhere his claw touched, the wall began to crumble and rot apart, turning to dust and putrid slime that dribbled down onto the filthy pavement. The thugs could see this happening only as he stepped into the faded sunlight which barely made it past the tall buildings, but they seemed to understand the implication well enough, if their shaking knees were any indication.

He flashed them a smirk of his own once he was within arm’s length of the sharks, pulling his claw away from the rapidly decaying wall with a flourish before holding it up in front of his eyes, which he allowed to glow their true color.

“Careful, I’m toxic.” He said in a smokey voice, before reaching over and nicking one of the two soldiers on his exposed neck with a cheeky “Ouch.”

The demon chuckled nervously, clutching the scrape. Those chuckles slowly became more frantic as the wound began to widen and gape, oozing blood and a fishy smelling pus. They finally became screams of pain and horror as it began to travel over his body, rotting the flesh off quickly crumbling bones, the bipedal fish clutching desperately at his disappearing body. The screams only stopped with a gurgle when the rotting finally overtook his head, and all that was left was a steaming pile of toxic sludge topped with a cheap necktie.

His friend, who had watched in silent horror, turned to him to beg for mercy, insisting that it was just a well-intentioned joke.

“Weird. I thought jokes were supposed to make the audience laugh. Or did you not get that from your grade-school education?”

When the loan shark had no response, Mammon cut in again.

“I’ve got a joke for you. What do murder and sex have in common?”

The demon in front of him gulped, before stuttering out, “I-I don’t know, what?”

His smile widened. “They can both be fun, but it depends on how big of a dick you’re dealing with.”

And with that, he slashed the shark’s throat with his septic claw, leaving the alley devoid of life save for the rats who had come out to lick up the twin puddles of fresh seafood soup.

Texting his driver, he met back up with Moxxie, who handed him his smoothie along with the full amount of cash he had given him to pay for it.

“You already paid for everything else, so this is on me.” The imp said with a small blush dusting his cheeks, making his freckles stand out like pure white pearls.

A little surprised, he took the drink and the money, allowing his hand to brush against the younger demon’s soft palm as he lingered. He had such nice hands for someone who played guitar…

Moxxie’s blush had only grown deeper as the car pulled around to take them both back for the day.

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In the present, Mammon absent-mindedly stirred his smoothie with a straw as he recounted that day. While not their first official date, it was still a fun time. Not to mention the first crucial step to getting Moxxie to come out of his shell and embrace his true self.

A true self now buried under tacky mugs and a sh*tty nine to five.

But not for long. Mammon had taken great care to set this up, the arrangement of their old place, the guests who were coming over, the surprise he had brought with him from his palace menagerie.

The little hellbeast was pampered beyond any other pet the Prince of Greed had ever owned, even having it’s own room in the penthouse back when he and his Ruby in the Rough were still co-habiting. When Moxxie took off, Mammon couldn’t stand to be in their old place, feeling real heartbreak for the first time in millennia, but he took their pet with him. Hoping the creature’s affection would dull the pain.

But the animal was in a funk of it’s own, depressed to have lost one of it’s beloved masters. But the creature seemed happy enough now. Content to be back in the place it grew up in, butting it’s head against Mammon’s impish form as he stood in the immaculate penthouse kitchen. The demon scratched the furry beast’s head, smiling.

“You’ll get to see your other daddy again soon, Lefty. Isn’t that nice?”

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The IMP crew were giving their boss the silent treatment on the drive to Mint City, something the horse fanatic of course took personally.

“You are all being such babies. I’m telling you guys, this will be great for us.”

Millie fumed from the backseat. “If that fast-talking son of a bitch says something like that to me again, Blitzo, I swear to Satan…!”

“Millie, calm down. Let’s just try to get through this as quickly and calmly as possible.” Her husband rubbed her shoulder, trying to ease her worries. He just wanted this to be over.

“Besides, it’s not entirely Blitzo’s fault.”

The scarred imp beamed from the driver’s seat. “See? Moxxie is with me.”

The thespian huffed. “I’m not ‘with you’ sir, and to be clear I only said it’s not entirely your fault, but it is still at least 90% your fault.”

“Traitor.” Blitzo snapped.

Moxxie ignored him, focusing on comforting his partner. “Like I was saying, it’s not entirely his fault, because this is what Felix does best. It’s like he can see everything the moment he looks at you. Everything you want, everything you’re afraid of. And he knows exactly what to say to make you think he’s the one who can solve all your problems.”

Millie smiled at him softly before lightly placing her hand on his. But inside she was still fretting over some of the things the business demon

had said to her.

‘If Moxxie’s dad is alive, why haven’t I met him? Why haven’t I met any of his family? Is he hiding them from me?’

“Ugh. This ring makes LA smell like a rose garden. Did I really have to come?” Loona griped from the front seat. She was acting like her usual acerbic self. Inwardly though, she was still shaken up from her one-on-one with Felix and was desperate not to face the other demon again.

“Loonie, he said to bring everyone on the payroll. That means you too.”

“Whatever.” Loona glanced up to the rearview mirror, using it to make eye contact with her freckled co-worker. “Thought I told you that I didn’t want to be involved in your stupid romantic drama, fatty.”

Moxxie glared at her, but was glad she was here anyway. If Felix knew where they worked, it wouldn’t be hard to figure out where they all lived, and if something went wrong, it was better that they were all together.

“Hopefully we won’t be here long enough for you to have to get used to it.” The weapon’s expert mumbled.

They began to drive through the nicer part of Mint City, Moxxie giving Blitzo directions until they pulled up to a massive skyscraper. Built in an art-deco style reminiscent of the Gilded Age, it glittered with gold and platinum embellishments. It stood out as immaculate against the filth of it’s surroundings, a sign in front reading ‘Aureate Towers’ in shiny letters. They pulled into the parking lot where Moxxie and Blitzo had an argument about parking in the handicap spot before finally parking (legally) and heading towards the entrance.

The front door had a device on it Blitzo assumed was some kind of intercom. He pressed the button and opened his mouth to speak, but a strange green light flashed him unexpectedly, leaving him to blink the spots out of his eyes.

“What the f*ck was…” the former harlequin started only to be interrupted by an electronic voice coming from the door.

“Estimated net worth: Negative $158.97 souls. ACCESS DENIED”

Millie, who had been close enough to see and hear the interaction, stepped forward. “What in tarnation...” she started as she curiously pressed the button herself.

The green light flashed her as well, and a moment later the voice chimed in once again.

“Estimated net worth: $2,376.50 souls. ACCESS DENIED.”

“What the f*ck is this bank-shaming bullsh*t?!” Blitzo raged, prompting Moxxie to step forward before any property damage could occur.

“Sir, calm down! It’s just part of the building’s security system. It’s called a Djinn OCR and they’re on most of Prince Mammon’s high-end buildings. It scans your net worth and only allows those above a certain bracket to use the door. It’s so only residents and their friends can use the front entrance without having to buzz in. Let’s just call Mr. Avarice and ask him to…”

The taller imp grabbed his employee by the shoulders and shoved him in front of the security device.

“Nuh-uh, if me and Mills are gonna be mocked by Siri’s ugly cousin, then so are you! Press the button and let’s see how light your wallet is!”

Moxxie sighed and pressed the button, closing his eyes just before the light hit him, just like he used to.

‘Maybe it’s not so bad. Maybe he already sold the rights to my old songs…’

“Estimated net worth with variables: 5.7 hundred million souls. Access granted, welcome to Aureate Towers!”

And the gold and glass doors swung open into an equally extravagant lobby. Moxxie walked in, but could feel the intense stares on his back by his co-workers and boss. The latter of whom rushed to walk by his side.

“Well, look who just got several times more attractive!” Blitzo started before Moxxie cut him off.

“Please don’t start sir. None of that money is actually mine anymore, I gave it all up when I left.”

“Lame.” The lanky imp groaned, much to his reluctant friend’s annoyance.

Millie and Loona lagged behind, the hellhound leaning down to whisper in the country gal’s ear.

“Did you know he was that loaded?”

Millie, a little shocked, looked at her. “I knew he was well off before, but I didn’t realize he was that well off!”

Loona stood back up as the group approached the front desk. “This is freaking me out…” she murmured as her adoptive father started to chat up the overdressed shark serving as the receptionist.

“Sup! IMP, here to see Felix Avarice!”

The receptionist glanced up, made a face and replied curtly. “Mr. Avarice is a very busy man, and lots of demons want to see him. Unless he left specific instructions, I can’t just let anyone up.”

Blitzo huffed. “He said he’d leave a name with the front desk to let us up, so check again Jabber jaw. It’s probably under Blitzo Cash, with a silent ‘o’.”

The loan shark glared, then looked back down at her desk. “Yeah, there’s nothing here. Silent ‘o’ or otherwise.”

“Why you…” the lanky imp reached into his jacket to pull out his gun, only for Moxxie to grab his arm and address the receptionist himself.

“Pardon me, but is there a ‘Marcel Knessuno’ on your notes? It may also mention some guests.”

Interest flickered in the demon’s eyes as she checked the memos on her desk, then looked back up, eyes now wide with recognition and excitement.

“Oh my dear Lucifer, it is you! Mr. Avarice said you’d be stopping by, but I didn’t think I’d get to talk to you! Sweet unholy mother of Satan, I’m so sorry! Please just wait a second…!”

Her attitude completely flipped, she began rummaging through the drawers of her desk, frantically apologizing to the dumbfounded group of demons in front of her. She popped back up a moment later with a handful of cards and bracelets.

“Here is your security keycard and some visitor wrist bands so your guests can come and go as they please. Mr. Avarice is in his penthouse, he said you can head right up.”

Moxxie handed the bracelets to his wife and co-workers as he quietly thanked the now very compliant desk worker, who stopped him before he could make his way to the elevator.

“I’m so sorry if this is out of line, but do you mind giving autographs? Because I have a copy of your “Nightclubs and Kneecaps” album in my car, so if you wouldn’t mind stopping by on your way out…”

Moxxie gave her a polite smile. “I’ll see if I can make time on our way out.”

The shark giggled excitedly as he walked over to join the rest of IMP at the elevator doors, scanning the security card to open them. The motley crew of demons stepped in, and the freckled imp pressed the large golden button labeled ‘PH’.

As the lift carried them up, Moxxie turned to them and began to brief them on his ex.

“Please, whatever happens, try not to be intimidated or taken in by him or his things. He’s good at making you feel less than without even trying, and he uses that to get the upper hand in every situation.”

Just as before, his boss was in deep denial about the gravity of the situation. Still refusing to take any of this seriously.

“Relax, Mox! As if we’re gonna be intimidated by your old f*ck buddy’s dinky little…”

His words were interrupted by the sound of the elevator dinging, signaling it’s arrival to their destination. The gilded doors opened onto a space that made the IMP crew’s living spaces look like literal roach motels.

Massive, immaculate and gorgeously decorated, the penthouse was nothing short of incredible. The furniture was all classy and elegant, art-deco to match the building’s exterior. The walls were papered in a beautiful print depicting golden carnations and coppery songbirds against a dark green backdrop. The living room also contained a massive entertainment set-up complete with a massive flatscreen, hi-fi stereo, and every type of media player imaginable.

A polished baby-grand piano made of dark mahogany stood on a raised section of floor just past the living room, in front of a spiral staircase leading up to another floor.

It was open-concept, so they could see the mid-century modern kitchen with it’s massive gourmet stove, restaurant-quality fridge, and three sinks. On the other side, a massive glass-encased balcony formed a lovely sun-room, perfect for enjoying a cup of coffee in the morning or a nightcap in the evening as you overlooked the city below.

And standing at the entrance was Felix, looking perfectly at home amongst the luxurious furnishings. Today he wore charcoal grey slacks and another button up, this one a darker shade of green, but the sleeves were still rolled up to his elbow, a look Moxxie had always found attractive. The top button was undone, showing off the taller imp’s elegant collar bone, another of his ex-lover’s favorite features. His hoofs were bare but shiny and polished.

He welcomed his guests with a big smile and open arms.

“Welcome to my place! Come on in, make yourselves comfortable! But not too comfortable, this meeting still needs to be billable as a business expense.”

Moxxie sighed as he entered the familiar space, already deeply disappointed at how this was going. His wife and co-worker’s slack jaws and awestruck eyes were evidence enough that Felix already had the upper hand.

“Holy f*ck, just the living room of this place could fit our whole apartment!” Millie stated, too busy admiring the space to feel any romantic jealousy.

“Yeah, seriously.” Loona murmured, now trying to mentally plan out some selfie time before they had to leave. Sure, she was still scared of the lunatic, but when else would she ever get backdrops this cool for her Voxtagram?

“Hey, I get having too much of everything is just part of being rich, but why three sinks?” Blitzo asked their host in his usual impolite tone.

“One is for dishes, one is for cooking. Saves time on overall clean-up.” Felix answered as if it were obvious.

“Uh-huh. What about the third one?” The tall imp asked, pointing to the smaller sink set apart from the other two.

“Oh, that’s my champagne tap.”

Blitzo’s expression turned into one of cheeky disbelief. “No way…”

Felix shrugged. “Try it. There are flutes in the cabinet just above it, and fresh strawberries and OJ in the mini fridge mounted next to it.”

The former circus clown rushed over, taking out a glass and turning the tap. To his delight, a bubbly pale amber liquid began to fill his glass, frosting the outside with chilly condensation.

“This is f*cking awesome.” He said, taking a sip as the penthouse owner strode over.

“Démone Perignon, 1976. Best year in my opinion. I still drink from the bottle on special occasions, but it just makes sense to keep a cask on hand if you have a glass more than a couple times a week.”

“You have a whole cask of this good sh*t?!”

The rich demon nodded. “Chilling in a wine fridge in the basem*nt. Had the tap custom made, and I get a new cask shipped in from Envy every month. I never want to have to drink it flat, you see.”

Blitzo turned to face his employees as he emptied his glass.

“f*ck Mox, you really downgraded!” he said, rude as ever.

Millie began to fume and quake with rage before Moxxie walked over to her side, gently taking her hand.

“Don’t worry. I stopped being impressed by stuff like this a long time ago.” He said to her softly, much to her relief and Felix’s displeasure.

“You know, I told Lefty you were coming by. Little guy was thrilled.” The rich demon chimed in, hoping to interrupt this intimate moment.

Moxxie looked up to his ex-boyfriend in shock. “Wait, you still have Lefty?”

Felix smiled brightly. “Of course! I couldn’t just abandon our pet!”

“You two had a pet together?” Millie questioned, feeling slightly betrayed at the omission of this detail.

Moxxie rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Yeah, for a while. Lefty is a disabled…cat we adopted when we lived together.”

“Of f*cking course he’s a cat person.” Loona muttered to herself from the far side of the room.

The hellhound went largely ignored by the other demons present as Felix continued.

“He’s just taking a nap in his room.” The imp pointed to a door adjacent to the kitchen, this one with a large paw-print shaped doorplate reading ‘Lefty’ in silvery letters.

He turned to the country demon currently acting as his romantic rival. “You seem like the type who likes animals. How about you go say hi?”

Millie huffed as she walked towards the door, ignoring her husband’s protests.

“Millie, wait! Lefty isn’t a normal cat, he’s…”

“Mox, sugar, I grew up on a farm! I can handle a little puss* cat!” she answered a bit snappily as she opened the door.

“Here kitty, come here little kitty! Chicka, chicka!” she called into the pitch black room.

Eventually, she heard a rustling in the dark, and saw a single green eye aglow. Then another, both much larger and farther apart than those on the average sized house cat. Soon after both eyes opened and began to rise upwards, they were surrounded by an eerie green glow that outlined a large, hulking figure as it stalked towards the door.

“Here…little…kitty…” Millie’s words trailed off as the creature got within a foot of the exit, where it paused before pouncing, pinning the farm girl under it’s mass before roaring out in her face.

The “disabled cat” was a fully-grown brimstone tiger! It was the usual bright phosphorous green with black stripes, at least 480 pounds. Notably, this one had a royal blue collar with a silver bell attached and ‘Lefty’ embroidered neatly in matching thread on the side. The hellbeast was also missing it’s front left paw.

The creature glared at Millie for a moment before her husband called out, “Lefty, no! Bad cat!”

At the sound of his old master’s voice, the big cat jumped off his prey, bounding over to the former rockstar like an excited kitten.

“Hey buddy, did you miss me?” Moxxie said, scratching the tiger behind the ears as the massive beast nuzzled into his stomach. Everyone else, save Felix of course, just watched on in shock until Blitzo addressed the jungle cat in the room.

“Why and how did you have a f*cking pet tiger?!” his boss asked in an unnecessarily loud voice, at least three glasses deep into the champagne by now.

Moxxie rolled his eyes. “We got him from Prince Mammon’s animal handler. He was born sick and missing his left paw, so he was going to be put down, but I was there with Felix while he ran errands that day. The mother didn’t want him, so I talked Felix into bringing him home with us. We nursed him to health and ended up keeping him.”

Felix smiled warmly at his Songbird. “You always were a bleeding heart, Mox Star. Really, like finding a diamond among the gutter trash.”

Moxxie couldn’t help the light blush dusting his cheeks, and likewise Millie couldn’t help the fury boiling just at the back of her throat.

“You guys were living like James Bond villains. So f*cking ‘hiccup’ unreal.” Blitzo gurgled out in his tipsy voice, reaching to once again refill his glass only to have his hand stilled by their host.

“Easy there, Mr. Cash. We still have business to discuss, and I haven’t even introduced you to my associate yet.”

Moxxie looked up from his petting to look his ex in the eye. “Associate? You invited someone else over for this meeting?”

Felix walked into the living room as he spoke, his smile as cool as ever.

“Just someone with a vested interest in seeing that this deal goes through.” The sound of a cash register’s “ka-ching!” chimed from within the winged demon’s pocket, alerting him to a text message that he then checked.

“Oh! He’s almost here, he and his crew are in the elevator now.”

The little thespian glared at his ex-lover. “And when were you going to tell us about the other attendees?”

He shrugged, brushing off the shorter imp’s anger. “No need to be so hostile, Golden Eyes. Besides, it’s not like this guy is a stranger. In fact,” his eyes took on a slightly dangerous glint, “you’ve known him longer than I have.”

“Wait, who did you…” the freckled demon’s words were interrupted by the sound of the elevator chiming it’s arrival.

The doors slide open, and the light inside the lift cast a familiar shadow over the former musician, filling the little imp with panic.

“No, no, no, NO! Felix, you didn’t!”

The new arrival clicked his forked tongue as he stepped into the penthouse, banked on both sides by gruff looking loan sharks. Standing at about Blitzo’s height was an imp in a fancy red and navy blue suit with a remarkable resemblance to Moxxie, save for a few details.

Despite looking young for his age, he was still clearly older, with longer hair and slightly broader shoulders. He lacked the impish sniper’s trademark freckles, having instead white markings around his eyes, which were noticeably less big and round than the younger demon’s. His tail had white stripes instead of black, the fifth limb also being kinked and crooked. A side-effect from both his constant stress and having had the appendage broken one too many times by enemies in his younger days. In one hand he held a dark wooden walking stick topped with a massive red gem. On his face he wore a cheeky smile, his single gold fang flashing from his maw.

“What, are you not happy to see your father after all this time, Mox?”

“””Father?!””” came the shocked cries of his coworkers as they took in the sight of the clearly powerful demon who had just arrived.

Moxxie looked down at the ground sheepishly, wringing his hands. “Hi dad.” He said simply in a quiet voice after a moment of awkward silence.

The older imp walked over to join his estranged offspring in the living room, followed closely by the loan sharks Moxxie soon recognized as his entire inner circle.

‘Always one for the scare tactics.’ Moxxie thought as his father took a seat on one of the plush chairs surrounding the coffee table.

“Don’t be so rude, Moxxie. Introduce daddy to your new friends.” He was smiling, but Moxxie knew it wasn’t friendly.

Fighting not to quiver, the younger imp walked over to stand next to his father.

“Everyone, this is my father Crimson. Sir, this is my boss Blitzo,”

“The coolest, deadliest imp you’ll ever meet!” Blitzo said, the shock of the reveal having only partially sobered him up.

Ignoring him, Moxxie carried on. “His adopted daughter and our office secretary Loona,” The hellhound waved awkwardly, her instincts now in hyper-drive as she sensed the danger coming off the older demon.

“And this is Millie, my…”

“I’m his wife.” The country imp had walked up to her husband’s side at this point and extended her hand to her father-in-law for a handshake. Only to be met with an unimpressed glance.

The older imp looked up at his son.

“Una ragazza questa volta? Veramente?”

Moxxie looked away in embarrassment before answering. “Si prega di essere civile signore.”

Felix interrupted the reunion, addressing the third richest demon in the room cheerfully.

“Right on time as usual Crimson. Glad you could join us.”

“My pleasure Felix. You know you’ll always be a family friend.”

Beside him, Moxxie scoffed. “Funny. I remember when that ‘friendship’ almost came to an abrupt end at the meltdown you had when you found out the two of us were dating.”

The older imp waved his hand dismissively. “I was a little shocked sure, but a wouldn’t call my reaction a ‘meltdown.’”

“I was there, dad. I remember. You called Felix a “two-faced, cradle-robbing kiddie-diddler” accused him of “grooming me” into a “sissy lifestyle” and then threatened to have him castrated with a semi-automatic.” The impish thespian replied deadpan.

Crimson shrugged. “I came around eventually, didn’t I?”

The freckled imp’s eyes narrowed, and he turned to face is ex-boyfriend.

“Why are we here, Felix?”

Blitzo, in his brash fashion, jumped up to interject. “We’re here because the prince wants to…”

“Blitzo, that’s clearly not true! It was an obvious lie to get us here! The Prince of Greed wouldn’t look twice at our company to spit on us!”

“Hey!”

Ignoring the taller imp’s indignant cry, Moxxie focused all his attention on his ex.

“That deal was too good to be true from the start. I knew you had an angle, so what is it? Why are we really here?”

Felix smiled warmly at the younger demon. “Never could hide anything from you, Lucky Coin. Too sharp for your own good.”

He walked over to stand by Moxxie’s side. “I knew you’d never come on your own, so I came up with the ‘investment’ story to get all of you here. I have a proposition for you.”

“Is propositioning him in front of his dad wise? He might have that semi-automatic on him this time.” Blitzo interrupted, only to receive a sharp glare from every demon in the room that both silenced him and finished sobering him up.

Felix continued. “You were at the end of your contract when you took off, but your disappearance still left your fans so…unsatisfied. So here’s my offer; one more seven-ring tour. An official ‘farewell’ to the music scene. Usual spots, along with some secret shows and TV appearances to drum up buzz. It will last about six months, and the profits will be divided up just as they were back in the day, including the family cut.”

“Wait, so you dragged all of us here just to get him back for one last tour?” Loona chimed in despite her fear.

“Of course! Moxxie was Prince Mammon’s top earner, after all, not to mention one of my favorite success stories. I mean, the only son and heir to a major crime syndicate gives it all up to embrace his true self and pursue his dream of becoming a rockstar? You can’t buy that kind of backstory!”

Blitz scoffed. “OK, enough of that. I get the whole “bad boy mafioso” thing was Moxxie’s gimmick back in the day, but there is no way he’s actually…”

Finally completely sober, Blitzo took a closer look at Crimson and his companions. The suits, the visible scars, Crimson’s cane and cold countenance. That one heavy set shark who was cleaning what appeared to be cleaning dried blood off some brass knuckles before he caught Blitzo’s stare and hurriedly shoved the weapon back into his pocket.

“…oh.” The ex-circus clown muttered, suddenly feeling very out of his depth.

Crimson snickered at the shock evident on the IMP crew’s faces.

“What, did ya think it was normal for a musician to know the things Mox knows about guns and killing? Fat chance! Who do you think trained this pipsqueak? The Knolastname family, that’s who!”

At the sound of Moxxie’s real surname, the other three demons looked to him in shock.

“The Knolastname family? One of the oldest and richest crime families in Hell?” Loona started, suddenly realizing how Moxxie met his ex.

“The ones with a bloodline that can be traced all the way back to angelic nobility before The Fall?!” Millie chimed in, looking at her sheepish husband in shock.

Blitzo looked to his employee’s father. “And that makes you Crimson Knolastname! The only imp in Hell with a kill count in the quadruple digits!”

The Don preened, always pleased to be recognized for his work. “In all fairness, a lot of those were fire-bombings.”

“So Moxxie is a mobster? A real Mobster?” Millie gaped dumbfounded at her husband.

“Technically, no. I was never officially inducted.” Moxxie interjected. Beside him, his father growled lowly.

“And whose fault was that?”

“Whose idea was it?” Moxxie grumbled back before turning to face his ex-boyfriend again.

“And why would I accept your offer? You did lie to all of us, after all.”

Felix reached over and gently cupped the shorter demon’s face.

“Not all of it was a lie, Doll. Mr. M is still willing to provide his seal if you agree, meaning that your new gig will be on-the-books legal. And, while not the same as the budget promised, as a show of good faith I’m willing to give up my share of the profits. You can invest it back in your little start-up.”

Moxxie stepped back from his ex, but couldn’t hide the hint of blush on his cheeks. Felix smirked, before reaching into the drawer of the coffee table and pulling out a thick packet of papers.

“It’s all right here in black and white.” He slide the legal document over to the tux-wearing imp, but it was immediately snatched by the taller, more obnoxious member of IMP.

“I got this. I wrote those awesome contracts for you and Mills, remember?”

Rolling his eyes, Moxxie pulled the papers back from his boss.

“Yes, I remember. They were each one sheet of looseleaf paper long with ‘If I pay you, you can’t snitch on me’ written by hand in the middle. You misspelled most of the words and drew the notary stamp on yourself. In pink crayon.”

“Still counts.” Blitzo pouted.

The freckled imp sighed. “I will go over the contract myself. It’s my life, after all.”

Their winged host smiled. “Of course. Wouldn’t expect any less from you, Moxxie Doll.” He turned to the other members of IMP. “This legal stuff gets a little dry. How about I show you all to the game room in the meantime?”

Before Loona or Millie could voice their objections, Blitzo burst in with, “You got a game room in this bitch?! Lead the way!” Once again dragging them along.

Millie gave one last glance to her husband before allowing herself to be ushered away by the rich demon. To think he was keeping something this big from her…

Moxxie swallowed his guilt. He knew what Millie must be thinking, and he wasn’t sure what he could say to make her understand. Her parents, despite disliking him personally, were both relatively good demons, and excellent care-takers. Meanwhile, his father….

His father.

He was alone with his father and his most loyal soldiers.

Terrified but well-versed in not showing it, Moxxie sat down to go over the contract. The first few pages he skipped, knowing them to be nothing but dense legal jargon thrown in to pad the thing out. Despite his focus, he could still feel his dad’s disapproving glare burning into his skull.

Crimson believed strongly in the adage of “spare the rod, spoil the child” despite the saying’s origins, but Moxxie wasn’t particularly worried about him getting violent. Not in Felix’s place. Soon after becoming official, Mammon’s personal assistant let the Don know that any physical harm brought on Moxxie would mean an end to the exclusive royal perks his syndicate enjoyed.

‘Hopefully, he won’t bother to say anything abusive either’ Moxxie thought as he thumbed through the so-far very straight forward contract.

“You’re really ungrateful, you know that?”

‘And maybe the moon is filled with cream cheese…’

Looking up from the papers, Moxxie simply said, “It’s good to see you too, dad.”

Never one to be thrown off by his son’s occasional moments of sass, the older imp continued.

“Everything Felix did for you, for the family, and you just take off without even telling him in person? He made your stupid little hobby into something to be proud of, made you famous, gave you the kind of life you always bitched and whined about wanting, and this is how you repay him?”

The Don leaned back in his chair, still staring down his wayward son. “You run out on him, disappear on all of us, and to add insult to injury, you pretend the whole relationship didn’t even mean anything to you by going back in the closet?”

Moxxie could feel a stress migraine coming on. ‘Oh dear Lucifer, not this again!’

“I am not ‘back in the closet’, dad. I’m bisexual.” Moxxie managed out through gritted teeth.

“You know, the main reason no one takes you people seriously is because you guys keep making up new words for it.” Crimson stated matter-of-factly.

Moxxie looked back down at the contract, no longer wishing to engage with his progenitor. Crimson, however, didn’t want to give him that option.

“Hey Mox, when you made your vows to that little fa*g hag you brought here with ya, did you tell her the only reason you got famous was because you were willing to let some rich f*ck lay rail to ya? Or did you get that out of the way on the first date?” the crime boss snipped in a particularly venomous tone.

Moxxie growled. “How many times have I told you, our relationship wasn’t like that? Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not some desperate money-grubbing con-artist like you!”

That did it. Crimson rose from his seat, handing off his cane to Alessio and made his way over to his son, already raising his hand.

Moxxie closed his eyes and braced himself for the strike that would knock him onto the ground…only for it to never come.

When he opened his eyes and looked up, there was Felix, standing just behind him having caught Crimson’s backhand before he could land it. The winged imp gave Moxxie a knowing smile before he turned to address his father.

“Easy, Crimson. I know emotions tend to run high at family reunions, but I’m going to have to ask you not to get violent. This is my place, not yours.”

The Don huffed and yanked his hand back before turning back to take his seat once again. Looking back at the younger imp, Felix pointed to the legal papers, which were now mostly read through.

“Looks like you’re almost done with the nitty-gritty of that Mox. Why don’t you go meet back up with your friends and go over the details with them. Take your time, I’m sure they have a lot of questions.”

Nodding, Moxxie gathered the papers and started towards the stairs, desperate to calm the sudden and oh-so familiar pounding in his chest.

Once he was out of sight and none of the demons left in the living room could hear his hoof steps anymore, Felix took a seat across from the Don, smiling widely.

“Excellent work there, Crimmie. Who says Moxxie is the only one with acting chops in the family?”

“Thank you, sir.” Came the brief but gruff reply from the other demon.

“One quick note though. I don’t remember writing a stunt slap into the script. When were you going to tell me you can ad-lib?” Felix tilted his head. Though still smiling, there was a glint of something dangerous in his eyes.

Crimson gulped. “I-it was just to really sell the moment, you know? Make him remember what you did for him, like you wanted! Besides, you were right there, you weren’t gonna let me…”

“Did you know I was there, Crimmie? Because the look on your face told me it was just as big a surprise for you as it was for him.”

The crime boss now stunned into silence, Felix continued.

“You know, I really like this look,” he said, absent mindedly tugging at his rolled sleeves.

“Lotta good memories with it. That being said, it does have it’s drawbacks.” He tilted his head up to look Crimson in the eye. “Namely, I think sometimes you forget who you’re really talking to.”

As his voice took on a dangerous octave, the Don and his crew were bathed in a radioactive green glow. The winged demon’s shadow began to twist and jerk until it reflected his true size and form, complete with matching glowing eyes and a wide, toothy smile. If you listened closely, you could hear the faint ringing of jingle bells under the sound of reality distorting around them.

“We’ve had this conversation before, Crimmie. You know how I feel about my things getting damaged. And you know what I do to the demons that damage them.”

Crimson was on his hands and knees in an instant.

“P-please, your highness, forgive me! I got a little carried away, but it won’t happen again! I-I promise, I’ll follow your plan to the letter, we all will!”

There was no reply for a moment, then Crimson felt a hoof on the back of his skull, applying just enough pressure to force his forehead to touch the floor. His men just stood and watched, knowing they couldn’t intervene.

“You know, sometimes it’s hard to see the resemblance between you and My Little Lucky Coin. That being said, seeing you like this brings back some great memories!”

The career criminal grit his teeth. ‘Why this ancient, slimy…!”

But he said nothing, and a moment later the weight was lifted from the back of his head, and the glowing green light subsided. When he looked up, Felix’s eyes were yellow and his shadow once again reflected his current physical form.

“You’re lucky I still need you. Moxxie knows he doesn’t have to be scared of you when I’m around, but he does still seem to be at least a little scared of you.”

The ‘imp’ stretched his arms behind his head. “I think it’s been long enough. I’ll go grab Moxxie and his current hangers-on.”

He turned and began to walk towards the spiral stairs, but turned back to address the other demon before beginning the climb.

“Oh, and Crimmie?”

“Yes, your highness?”

“I know I promised to reimburse you for the search party after they found Moxxie, but~, they didn’t find Moxxie, I did. Through sheer luck and bad marketing, not even one of your leads. So I think I’ll just hang on to that money, ‘kay?”

Despite the rage boiling in his gut, Crimson managed out a polite smile and the words, “That sounds very fair, your highness.”

Felix smiled warmly before ascending the stairs, leaving the mobsters alone to try to calm their furious boss, who was currently balled up on the floor struggling not to break down.

Crimson was too deep in his thoughts to hear them though.

f*ck, f*ck, f*ck! Why is this happening to him of all demons! As if his only son being queer wasn’t bad enough, he had to go and run off after getting one of the most powerful beings in the universe obsessed with him?!

What did he ever do to deserve this?!....Actually, don’t answer that.

And his pathetic son still wasn’t any help! Why was he fighting this so hard? He had the kind of luxury usually reserved for literal royalty, and the stupid brat threw it all away!Seriously, where did he go wrong raising that brat?!

Don't answer that either.

Exhaling deeply, the Don stood up straight.

But it would be alright. This was still manageable. Prince Mammon’s plan would work, he would receive the rewards he was promised, and Hell, Moxxie would probably thank him!

How often did an imp join a royal family, after all?

Chapter 4: Welcome to the Family - Avenged Sevenfold

Chapter Text

“I lost myself in the abyss of someone else’s tyranny…again”

Cassandra Giovanni

*************

Once alone in the penthouse game room, the members of IMP turned to confront each other about the shocking new information they had learned about their resident weapon’s expert. Apart from Blitzo, who immediately busied himself by fiddling with a VR system he found set up on the far wall.

“How did you not f*cking know your husband was a Knolastname?! Do you two never talk or something?!” Loona practically shrieked, her eyes panicked and hands trembling.

Millie ran both hands through her hair, trying to compose herself.

“We talk, but I didn’t want to pry! Mox was always really vague about his life growing up!”

She was pacing up and down the room now.

“All he told me was that his father worked administration in waste management, he got mad when Moxxie didn’t want to join the family business, he has a bunch of uncles who aren’t actually related to him…oh f*ck! How have I not put these pieces together until now?!”

Realization washed over the country imp’s face.

The hellhound took a few deep breaths, face buried in her paws.

“OK, so here’s what we know; we’re up against a super-rich sociopath with more money than God, royal and organized crime connections, and a serious Moxxie fetish.”

She looked over to her co-worker.

“We’ve been up against worse before, right?”

Millie’s look of uncertainty did not ease Loona’s concerns.

“UGH!” the hellhound stomped over to where her not-dad was air-petting a digital horse and ripped off the ocular headpiece he was wearing.

“No, I finally got Traffic Light to walk up to me on his own!” the lanky imp cried out, jumping for the headset that his daughter held just out of reach.

“You’re the one who got us in this sh*t, Blitzo! Get over here and help us deal with it!”

She shoved the company founder over to his field brawler, who had a look of confusion and worried sadness on her face.

“FINE.” The former circus performer huffed, walking over and putting his hand on the farm girl’s shoulder.

“Mills, I know you’re upset, but don’t worry. Moxxie chose to be with you, so even though now you know that he’s too good for you, you shouldn’t waste time thinking that he’ll leave you for his cool rich ex.” Blitzo finished with the confidence of someone who actually said something helpful.

Millie looked at her boss in absolute fury.

“I was upset about Moxxie keeping all these secrets from me, Blitzo! I never thought he was gonna leave…wait, did you just say Moxxie was too good for me?!”

Blitzo continued, oblivious to the danger he just put himself in.

“Yeah, weird right? I mean, you’re both hot, but I always thought you were the one a little out of his league with how uptight he is, you know? But then it turns out he bagged a rich daddy-type, had a sick-ass career as a rockstar with tons of cash and fans, and came from one of the most important families in Hell who aren’t royal bitches.”

The taller imp paused for a moment, as if thinking something over, then blurted out again.

“Oh, and his dad is like, objectively hotter and younger looking than your mom.”

Confusion overtaking her fury for a moment, she gave Blitzo a puzzled look.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You look like your mom, he looks like his dad, so the odds are that between the two of you, he’s gonna be the one growing into the whole silver fox vibe down the line.”

Loona stayed silent but reluctantly agreed with the idiot who adopted her. Silently, of course.

‘How would Moxxie look holding a fancy cane, a cold and wicked expression on his face?’

She was broken away from this brief fantasy by the sound of the idiot gasping and begging for help as Millie strangled him, thrashing his head against the floor and screaming obscenities.

She only stopped her violent attack at the sound of a familiar voice just behind them.

“Not that he doesn’t deserve it, but why are you killing Blitzo?” Moxxie asked, his tone sounding somewhat sad and tired.

His wife let go of their boss and stood up to face her husband.

“Never mind that, how could you keep all this from me?”

He winced at the sound of betrayal in her voice.

“I’m sorry, I was going to tell you one day, but I could never figure out the right time. This stuff, my family, it’s all very…complicated.”

Moxxie sighed.

“You don’t get to just walk away from this kind of life that easy. I was lucky, sort of, when I met Felix. His offer made it so I was never inducted, and being out of my dad’s line of sight made it easier to run.”

She crossed her arms. “Well, there’s no time like the present Mox. Let’s hear the whole story, here and now.”

Moxxie sighed.

“I met Felix for the first time less than an hour before my induction ceremony. I had heard of him, of course, and knew he was a family friend, but it was my first time seeing him face to face.

He overheard me playing a song a I wrote in the upstairs music room while he was looking for a place to freshen up before the party started. He told me I was good, too good to let my talents go to waste working jobs for the family.”

His eyes shone as if he was going to cry, but there was the faintest hint of a sad smile on his face at the memory.

“So he convinced my dad to let him take me to Mint City for a couple months. I didn’t mean for anything to happen, but we just had so much in common. I felt like I was really being seen for the first time, you know? He was just so nice and charming. Mature and cultured. And so…different from the kinds of demons I was used to pursuing me.

Of course, my dad found out, but you heard that story already. It took a lot of negotiation, but eventually he was willing to let me take Prince Mammon’s offer and stay in the city with Felix, under a few conditions.”

He looked up to meet his coworker’s gazes.

“I had to wear a disguise and use a stage name so no one from back home would recognize me. The family got a 20% cut on concert and album sales, and another fifteen on merchandise. And my dad got to make everyone back home think I was an official family member by spreading rumors.”

“Rumors?” Millie asked confusedly, before Blitzo once again butt in.

“Wait, that means you’re the guy that old hopscotch song is about!”

“What hopscotch song?”

“It’s nothing Millie, it’s…” he was cut off by his boss’s obnoxious singing.

“Crimson, Crim’s son,

Cruel and smart,

Slits your wrists and

Carves out your heart!”

Moxxie couldn’t help face-palming.

‘Of course this is one of the few songs he can actually remember the lyrics to.’

Millie reached over and tilted her husband's face away from the ex-clown and towards her.

“But I don’t understand why you kept so many important details from me.”

“Crimson, Crim’s son,

Eye for eye,

Beats you bloody

‘til you beg to die!”

“I was scared of what you’d do. I know you Millie, and I knew how you’d react to someone like my dad. If you knew about even half of what he put me through growing up, nothing I could say would stop you from trying to take him out.”

“Crimson, Crim’s son,

A rusty chainsaw,

Cuts off your horns

And skins you raw!”

Moxxie stepped forward and took her hands.

“I love you, you’re the strongest, most amazing and capable demon I’ve ever met. But my dad doesn’t play fair, he doesn’t see reason and he doesn’t believe in mercy or forgiveness.”

“Crimson, Crim’s son,

Heaven and hell!

Rips out your tongue

So you can’t tell!”

The freckled imp cupped his wife’s cheek with one hand, gently lifting her face to meet his gaze.

“I have seen so many of the demons I cared about taken out by that man’s jealousy and cruelty. I wouldn’t be able to carry on if anything like that happened to you.”

“Crimson, Crim’s son…” An unexpected, but not undeserved slap to the face interrupted the clownish imp’s off-key rhyming.

“Will you f*cking stop already?!” Moxxie hissed at the taller imp, who pouted in response.

“Meanie”

He turned back to his wife.

“I understand if you can’t forgive me right away. This is a big deal, and I was hiding it for so long. But I’m going to try to be as honest as possible from now on. Keeping this a secret has only caused us trouble.”

The country imp sighed before looking him in the eye. There were still unshed tears glistening at the edges of her own gaze, but her smile was understanding and warm.

“Of course I forgive you, Mox. It’s not your fault yer daddy sucks.” The two embraced warmly, exchanging a quick kiss before separating.

“As long as you’re being truthful, there is one thing I’m curious about.”

“Anything.” The impish sniper offered, eager to start building her trust back up.

“You told me before that Felix was your first relationship, but then said he was different from the other demons that liked ya. Did you date at all before meeting him?”

Moxxie blushed and scratched the back of his head.

“O-oh, um. Kinda. They were just dates though, nothing happened and I wasn’t in a relationship with any of them.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“W-well that’s kind of…hard to explain. It was a problem unique to someone with my upbringing.”

“Moxxie.” She said, her tone serious.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll explain, but it’s kind of boring.”

“Moxxie, nothing this secret has ever been boring, that’s just basic science.”

Blitzo had recovered from the slap and was now back to his old habits of invading his employee’s private moments. Loona acted disinterested, but was also listening in.

Moxxie sighed.

“OK, I feel like I don’t have to tell any of you that dating isn’t easy in Hell. It’s hard enough finding someone decent and normal, but it is made so, so much harder if you happen to be the son of a major crime family. You never know who likes you for you, and who’s just…there for the brand.”

“Don’t be so dramatic Mox. You’re making it sound like you were fetish material or something.” Blitzo scoffed.

“I wouldn't put it that way, but I basically was.” Moxxie answered back, much to the shock of the other three.

“Wait, so you were a popular date…before you were famous?” Loona gaped. “Explain.”

Moxxie shrugged.

“Do I really have to? Power, money, infamy. The fact that you’d be hard-pressed to find a demon who isn’t into the 'forbidden fruit' angle. Throw in all the weird things being raised up to be a career criminal teaches you to do with your body, and you basically become every opportunistic pervert’s fantasy.”

“Weird things?” Millie echoed. Moxxie’s blush deepened slightly.

“Well, I was taught to be able to survive brutal street beatings, so my pain tolerance and stamina are much higher than average. All those breaking and entering lessons made me hyper-flexible, to the point that I could probably fit in an average-sized shoe box if I really had to. And I don’t want to talk about what things like lock-picking and smuggling teach you to do.”

The brief silence following Moxxie’s explanation was broken by the obvious suspect.

“Yeah, now I definitely regret not taking a run at you when you were single.”

“Blitzo, don’t you dare start again!” Millie growled.

Ignoring the exchange, the freckled imp continued.

“I actually tried dating normal civilians the normal way during my late teens, but all of them, even the ones I kind of liked made it clear that they couldn’t see past this image of me they had in their heads. I only finally gave up when the last one whispered, “Let’s pretend we’re cellmates” in my ear after a couple drinks.”

Millie put a hand on her husband’s shoulder sympathetically. “Oh baby…”

“Yeah, as someone who has been to prison, it’s not nearly as sexy as people think.”

“Felix was the first demon I met who didn’t care about any of that. He had enough money and power of his own, he never implied anything crude about my training, and he treated me like…me. Not just some conquest.” Moxxie finished.

Millie nodded. While she still hated her husband's smug ex, she could at least understand why Mox had fallen for him now.

Blitzo interrupted this tender moment, as was his custom.

"So what is Mammon's errand boy offering you?"

Moxxie rolled his eyes before pulling out the contract.

"I was surprised, but it's pretty straight forward. More or less exactly as he described; six to eight months on tour, including secret shows and interviews. The family cut and my cut are the same, but he added some changes."

The freckled imp flipped the packet to a certain page.

"Like he said, he's willing to part with his share of the net profits for us to use as we want. There's also a clause in here that guarantees an official disownment from the other two parties after completing the tour."

"English, Mox."

Rolling his eyes at the ever-persistent immaturity of his employer, Moxxie explained.

"It means that neither Prince Mammon or my family can make any claim to me anymore. I'll finally be able to wash my hands of all of this completely." Moxxie finished with a smile, but it quickly faded.

"But this whole thing is too weird. I should just tell them that…"

Millie stepped forward, hushing her husband.

"Moxxie, as uncomfortable as I am at the thought of you being around that rich prick for so long, if you want to do this so you can finally be free of it, then I'll support you."

"Really? But…"

"No buts, sweetie. Besides," Millie smiled.

"There's nothing in that contract that says I can't be there for ya the whole time, now is there?"

Moxxie smiled back but was still unsure. Something about this still felt off.

"There isn't, but I don't know…"

"Cut all this indecisive bullsh*t and just do it Mox!" Blitzo cut in obnoxiously.

"We'll get the seal, the cash, and all those pictures I have of you sleeping will probably sell for a lot more money once you're famous again!"

Normally, Moxxie would have chastised his boss/kind of friend for his rudeness but was once again caught off guard by one of his statements.

"Why do you have pictures of me sleeping?"

Loona cut in.

"Yeah fatty, sounds like this concert tour solves all your problems at once. I say go for it."

"And you're selling them, you just said you're selling them."

Millie gripped her husband's hand.

"And we'll be right here for you if something happens."

"Why do you have pictures of me sleeping, and who have you been selling them to?"

"OK, let's go tell Mox's old sugar daddy we're willing to consider it!" Blitzo blurted, yet again ignoring Moxxie's concerns over the ex-carny's invasion of his privacy.

He walked over to the door, before turning back to face the freckled imp again.

"Gotta say, I am super jealous of the clap-back at your dad, Mox. I mean, I've got some daddy issues myself, but you went f*cking hard at the whole 'teenage rebellion' thing."

“Does it really count as teenage rebellion if I was only a teenager for a year and change while I was doing it?” Moxxie replied deadpan as his boss opened the door.

Only to see Felix already waiting on the other side, his eyes brightening at the sight of the other demons.

“Oh good, you’re done talking it over. I was just coming up to see how things were going.”

Blitzo smiled widely at the winged imp. “Well, if you must know, we …”

But Felix stepped past him to address Moxxie directly.

“So, how about it, Mox Star? One last ride, for old time’s sake?”

The shorter demon rolled his eyes at his ex’s overly familiar tone.

“I’m willing to consider it, but I’d like to discuss some things first. Lay out some terms and conditions.”

Nodding, Felix agreed.

“Of course. I’ll call some of Mr. M’s lawyers, we’ll all have a sit-down and talk over the finer points. In the meantime, there are other guests we shouldn’t leave waiting.”

He stepped back out of the game room, gesturing for the others to follow him.

Moxxie was hyper-aware of every step that brought him closer to his father, and Millie, sensing his stress, gently took his hand in hers. He looked up and gave her a grateful smile. Neither said anything, but both seemed to understand.

“OK, good news everyone! Moxxie, or should I say Marcel, is willing to give this thing a chance! I’ll make some calls and get some of the prince’s bloodsuckers over here ASAP. In the meantime, you all just get comfortable.” Felix announced once back in the living room.

He then broke off and went out onto the balcony where he pulled out his cell and began to dial.

Moxxie was more or less frozen, not wanting to speak with his father after the close call earlier. Blitzo, however, marched on without fear, and addressed the Don head on, sticking out a hand for a handshake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Moxxie’s dad! I’m…”

“I know who you are. You’re that cheap, amateur assassin that’s screwing that royal pigeon.” Crimson interjected coldly.

The scarred imp chuckled nervously.

“Well, that’s not, I mean it’s really…We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. My name is Blitzo, Blitzo Cash, and I…”

“Cash, huh? Let me guess, middle name ‘Doesntgottalotta’?”

The crime boss gave him a critical look up and down.

“Nice suit, Blitzo Doesntgottalotta Cash. Did the grave-robber you bought it from haggle, or did you get a discount cuz they couldn’t get rid of that rotting smell?”

His wisecrack made all his soldiers chuckle, leaving Blitzo feeling actually embarrassed for a change.

Moxxie stepped in to defend his employer

“Sir, that’s enough.”.

But Crimson just turned to glare at him instead.

“After all this time, you still choose to associate with these types of demons. But you’ve even managed to downgrade on that front, haven’t you? At least Felix was smart and successful. f*ck, even your loser friends were occasionally useful. But working for this guy? Really?”

Moxxie silently backed down. Even if he knew his dad wouldn’t physically hurt him or anyone else here, not if he wanted to stay in Felix’s good graces, he still wanted to avoid confrontation.

He didn’t want to put everyone else at risk. And he definitely didn’t want Felix to step in again, not after the flood of old emotions the first time unleashed.

Millie, though, who was watching this all go down, wasn’t gonna let it slide.

“Who do you think ya are, talking to ma husband like that?!” The country imp snarled.

The Don smiled at her condescendingly.

“Right. ‘Husband’. Shame I wasn’t invited to the wedding.”

“There was no wedding. We eloped.” Moxxie muttered tersely.

Crimson chuckled.

“Now that makes sense. I wouldn’t want my daughter to be some sissy’s beard either.”

You could almost hear Millie’s last nerve snap. She launched herself at the career criminal, while in the background her husband and employer called out her name to try to calm her.

The loan sharks jumped to defend their boss, who himself just barely dodged his estranged son’s fuming spouse. Loona ducked down in the kitchen to avoid the oncoming slaughter fest but peeked over the counter to watch her co-worker bounce around trying to pin the sleazy imp down.

As expected, eventually someone pulled out a gun. It was Stu, a shark-succubus hybrid who also happened to be one of Crimson’s barons. He aimed at the rapid she-imp trying to claw at his boss and took the shot, only to have his intended target pushed out of the way by the freckled demon he once called ‘giovane maestro’.

Moxxie readied himself to take a shot to the arm, only to himself be pulled out of the way by the demon he last expected to save him.

After letting go of his son’s arm, Crimson turned to berate his employee.

“What the f*ck do you think yer doing you useless goon?! Anything happens to him, and we’ll all be…!”

Acutely aware of the sudden silence around him, the older imp turned to look at Moxxie and his companions, who were all looking at him in shock. Clearing his throat and straightening out his jacket, he addressed his inner circle calmly.

“Don’t break out the guns in a friend’s place, boys. You know better.”

Before Moxxie could vocally question his father’s sudden spark of protectiveness, the scene was interrupted by the sound of the balcony door sliding open.

“Bad news, everyone. I couldn’t get any of our usual court vultures on the phone. Most of Mr. M’s legal team are still tied up in the Loo Loo Land mess.”

Blitzo let out an innocent whistle, leading Moxxie to shoot him a look.

“Sorry about the inconvenience. In the meantime, why don’t we all head out for a nice dinner? My treat of course.” Felix offered to the other demons present.

Crimson gave him a curt nod.

“Sounds good Felix. Call us with the place and we’ll meet you downstairs.”

A single hand gesture had his men following the boss to the elevator, and a moment later the members of IMP were alone with Prince Mammon’s assistant. The winged imp in question addressed them directly next.

“How about it? I know every good place in the city, and I can get us a table anywhere you like.”

Moxxie, who was still a little shaken about both the earlier fiasco and his father’s outburst, found himself speaking in a bout of pure muscle memory.

“How about 'Opulence'? Maybe one of the private dining rooms since there’s so many of us?”

Felix smiled. 'He still has good taste.’

“Good call, Moxxie Doll. I’ll make it happen. Just give me a minute to put a call in to the manager and send a message to your father. Let him know where we’re meeting up at.”

With that, the business demon stepped back out onto the balcony sunroom. After he was out of earshot, Moxxie turned to confront his wife.

“Millie, I appreciate you standing up for me, but you can’t do that again.”

"Mox, I could wipe the floor with these assholes! As if they could even…"

"I know you could, but remember what I said earlier? Demons like my father don't play fair. If you hit them, they'll come for you with ten times as much kickback."

The freckled imp took a deep breath.

"I know it's not easy, but please, please just try to tolerate them. Once this is over, none of us will ever have to deal with any of them again. I promise."

Millie gave him a conflicted look but nodded.

"For you, baby, I'll try."

The two embraced, and of course Blitzø butted in once again.

"You guys done with the soap opera bullsh*t? Because there's a rich guy waiting to buy us rich guy food and booze, and I need to drink away all the emotional trauma Moxxie's DILF just put me through."

The freckled imp wrinkled his face in disgust but followed the lanky imp to the elevator.

Felix was waiting downstairs next to reception, where the loan shark from earlier was bouncing in place excitedly, clutching an acrylic CD case close to her chest.

Moxxie smiled awkwardly as he remembered his earlier promise and stepped away to sign it.

"What's your name?"

"Jullep, with two L's" she giggled excitedly.

"I can't believe this, you are so much more handsome in person! This is amazing!"

Moxxie gave her a polite thank you and handed her back the CD case, now inscribed with Moxxie's slick cursive:

'Welcome to the family, Jullep. ~ Marcel Knessuno'

The shark squealed and rushed back to her desk to take pictures of the autograph for her Voxtagram feed, and Moxxie rejoined with the rest of IMP and his ex. Felix smiled fondly at the shorter imp.

"Still got the touch, Mox Star."

Moxxie shrugged awkwardly as he walked to stand beside his wife, who hadn't stopped glaring at the winged demon in designer clothes.

"I got us the room at Opulence. Now, should I call us a car, or would you rather we ride separately?"

Moxxie rolled his eyes.

"We brought our van, we'll drive ourselves."

At the sound of the word 'van' the building secretary ceased her fangirling to address her boss's assistant.

"Oh, that reminds me. Mr. Avarice, a bunch of the residents were complaining about this ugly, beat-up van in the parking lot, but don't worry. I already had it towed."

The start-up employees froze. Moxxie turned to address the desk worker again.

"Um…did this van happen to have a custom paint job on the side that said 'IMP'?"

She nodded. "Oh, you saw it too? I'm sorry, but don't worry it's gone. Can't believe someone spent real money on that piece!"

Blitzø once again had to be physically restrained as Moxxie turned back to his ex, somewhat defeated.

"Guess we'll need a ride after all." The taller hellborn smiled.

"I'll call my chauffeur and have him bring something around."

The green sun of Greed was beginning to set as the entire group moved to wait for the car outside in front of the building. Soon, a shiny dark green vintage town car pulled in front of them, an imp in a dark vest hopping out of the driver's seat to hold open the door.

Blitzø huffed.

"Aww! I was hoping for a limo! How am I supposed to spray champagne at cops in this?"

Moxxie elbowed him in the side while Felix chuckled.

"We'll bust out the limos once Lucky Coin starts his tour. In the meantime, we'll keep a low profile. It's important that we control the buzz, you know?"

Loona chimed in.

"Hey, there aren't enough seats."

Moxxie looked to see that the hellhound was right; they were one seat short. But before he could question it, Felix jumped in.

"Oh, that was on purpose. It's been a while, but I figured Moxxie would rather take Rhapsody."

Moxxie couldn't help the smile that took over his face.

"Wait, is Rhapsody still here?"

Felix smiled warmly.

"Just had her two-year tune up. She's in her old space in the private garage, combo to the locker should be the same too."

Moxxie practically ran into the parking compound, leaving the rest of IMP confused. Not wanting to feel out of the loop, Millie bit the bullet and asked the winged demon the question on all of their minds.

"What is…" but she was interrupted by the loud revving of an engine and the sound of tires ripping against asphalt.

A demon on a chopper roared out in front of them before coming to a skidding stop. They didn't recognize him immediately due to the leather riding jacket and helmet, but after he pulled the latter off with a flourish, the crew was shocked to see Moxxie's freckled face smiling at them as he straddled the bike.

"Holy sh*t! Mox, you had a motorcycle?!" Blitzø blurted out as he rushed to examine the vehicle.

Millie and Loona rushed up with him, both in awe of the bike. It was a vintage city-style chopper, shiny ruby red. Black and gold pinstripe detailing decorated the sides, with 'Rhapsody' artfully detailed on the rear tire guard. A vanity plate reading 'REPRISE' was fastened to the back bumper.

"Woah…" Loona breathed, suddenly feeling very tempted to ask Moxxie for a ride. Her right hand reached out towards the bike, completely of its own accord. Wanting to touch the metal, imagining it all hot and smooth beneath her fingers.

Then, she viscerally remembered what Felix had done to that same hand back in the office and jerked it back.

"How do you have a motorcycle, you big baby? You can barely handle a ride in the van!" Blitzø said rudely, not noticing his daughter's frantic gesture.

Moxxie rolled his eyes.

"I have a different gear for when I'm in control of the vehicle. Besides, unlike you I've never crashed."

"Baby, Ah didn't even know you liked motorcycles." Millie interrupted in a soft tone.

Maybe she should have been upset about being kept out of the loop again, but Moxxie cut such a dashing figure as he straddled his bike.

The freckled imp shyly scratched the back of his head.

"Well, I really liked them when I was younger. Actually saved up to buy myself one when I was seventeen, but my dad wouldn't let me."

Felix cut in again, siding up beside Moxxie, smiling down at him in that familiar way.

"Rhapsody was actually one of my presents. A little celebration for the first time one of his singles hit the top five."

Millie's mood soured in an instant. As hot as Mox looked on a chopper, this bastard killed her mood faster than an NPR host nasally begging for a donation. The winged imp spoke up again before she could get a word in though.

"Alright, let's get moving! It's rude to keep them waiting, especially since they kicked out a B-lister so we could get a good room."

Blitzø nodded and corralled Millie and Loona into the town car, Felix following close behind. The taller imp looked over to Moxxie and winked at the freckled thespian before the chauffeur closed the door and got back into the driver's seat.

The town car had four seats. Two seats separated by armrests. Arranged opposite from each other so the riders were left facing one another.

Loona had taken the window seat on the far side, catty-corner from Felix. Furthest away she could get in this enclosed space.

Millie was still mad at her boss and didn't trust herself not to slam Felix's head into the window, so she opted to sit opposite him.

This left Blitzø sharing a side with the winged smooth-talker.

The scarred imp turned to their host, whose warm smile had noticeably begun to fade as soon as Moxxie was no longer in his line of sight.

"So normally I'd be super pissed about getting ripped off, but as long as you're willing to buy us a big fancy dinner and let us tag along while Mox parties his way around Hell, I'm willing to let it slide."

Felix put on a quick smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Yeah, it's no trouble. Moxxie always had a pretty decent entourage, but a few extras won't hurt."

His eyes darted briefly towards Millie at the word 'extras', and she fought the urge to reach for her knife.

"And I'm sure Mox Star's old friends will be thrilled to meet you all! I mean, he has told you about his old friends, right?"

The country imp felt her jaw clench involuntarily. Narrowing her eyes, she snarked back in a venomous tone.

"No, he hasn't. He doesn't like to talk about what it was like living in Greed that much. It's almost like someone made remembering this place that much harder for him."

The winged imps' smile fell immediately, and the air inside the car changed. Suddenly, Millie felt like she was in real danger. Like the floor had just dropped out beneath her in a high-up place, and her stomach was flip-flopping.

Like she was falling despite still being seated in the town car.

And she wasn't the only one. Loona's hand was shaking as she clutched the door handle, her eyes wide with silent terror. Blitzø's own expression finally seemed to accurately reflect the seriousness of the situation, his gaze confused and scared.

For a moment, everything was still; no one dared move, less they further jostle the agitated monster. Then, the driver's voice called back to them.

"Mr. Avarice? We have arrived at Opulence."

The strange pressure that had filled the vehicle seemed to evaporate and Felix once again allowed a smile to cross his face.

"Come on. Let's forget about the bad blood for a minute and get some good food in our stomachs before we go crazy from hunger."

The four demons stepped out, only to be greeted by Crimson standing in front of what looked like a giant pile of marble rubble, flanked by a large red-eyed loan shark. The older imp was puffing a cigar, which he took out as he saw them approach.

"Bad news Felix; they say they're overbooked. They gave away the room you reserved to a bunch of big shots a few minutes before we pulled up. We waited around to let you know"

Felix snapped his fingers.

"Damn. I was looking forward to this."

He turned back to face the members of IMP who had ridden with him.

"You guys should just head back to the penthouse. My driver will take you back."

Millie quirked a brow.

"Why are you staying behind?" The taller imp shrugged.

"Gonna have a quick word with the concierge. Ask him why he gave our room away. Besides,"

His smile became very smug.

"Moxxie can't pick up his phone when he's on his bike. I'll hang back and let him know our plans have changed."

Millie could feel her blood start to boil again, but she swallowed it before she replied.

"Ah can stay behind and tell him. I am his wife, after all."

But Felix just waved her off.

"You're also my guest! Please, this is my fault. Should've had a backup ready. Besides, you don't know the city, do you? It'd be a shame if something bad happened."

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes and Millie flinched despite herself. There it was again, that sinking, free-falling feeling.

Almost against her will, and definitely against her better judgment, she backed off. Silently followed Blitzø and his adopted daughter back into the town car.

The remaining demons stood in silence, watching the car drive away.

Finally, the winged imp turned to his dirt-worker. He gave Crimson a smile and an approving nod, and the crime boss sighed in relief before gesturing for his consigliere to follow him back to the limo.

The sin then pulled out his phone and made a quick call.

"Yeah it's me. No, it was easy, way easier than that stupid Crusade thing Satan made us all do. All that trouble for barely any gold…wasteful. Yep, it'll just be me and him. Ok, see you soon. Oh, and thanks again to all of you for doing this on short notice."

Mammon clicked goodbye and went inside to wait for his Golden Eyed rockstar.

*****************

Moxxie watched the car drive off before putting his helmet back on and revving up his own ride.

Riding through Mint City at night was always a guilty pleasure of his, but after so long it felt…surreal. Almost like he was dreaming especially vividly.

So much was the same, yet different. The corner store bakery that made his favorite croissants was now a thrift shop. The coffee shop off main was a bar, and the small public park near the square was a patch of dirt.

A lot of hellborn demons thought Mint City was a cesspit like the rest of Greed, but Moxxie never saw that side.

For some reason, for the entire time he had stayed here, every part of it felt charming and upscale. Even the air felt cleaner, despite it being the heart of the Greed Ring. Like something had fundamentally changed the minute he had set hoof in the city. As if the capital city was putting on it's best face, just for him.

Streetlights and neon signs turned into a glowing blur as he sped past. Things changed, but he still knew his way around and soon found himself pulling up to his chosen restaurant.

Opulence was a Greed Ring institution. The exterior was modeled to look similar to Greco-Roman ruins after a major disaster. All marble columns at odd angles, crumbling white statues and glimmering artificial ponds and waterfalls, with artificial ivy scaling over it all.

Bits of gold and silver paint speckled the exterior as well, like the remnants of some lost treasure, dropped while fleeing the crumbling structure. Both the water and remains of embellishments glittered under the light of the copper lanterns strewn about it. It was meant to look like a beautiful palace that had fallen into chaos and ruin. The denizens of Greed loved the dichotomy of it.

It was easier to pass a camel through a needle's eye than to get a table here, much less a private room.

But Felix always got what he wanted.

Places like this didn't have signs with their name out front; didn't need them. Their reputation was enough. Instead, arching above the hidden entrance, was a smooth curve of shimmery white quartz.

The Latin carved into the stone arch was barely visible in the dim glow of the copper lanterns, but Moxxie didn't need to see it. He still remembered the translation, from the very first time Felix had whispered it in his ear on their first date here:

'Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?'

He struggled to fight off the nostalgic feeling of butterflies in his stomach and focused on getting through the evening. Rapping against the door in the secret rhythm that was engraved in the surface of his mind, it was opened by some unseen attendant.

Then, he walked into a different reality.

The inside of Opulence was lit as if by it's own miniature sun, toasting the place like they really were in some hidden grotto in the Mediterranean. The columns and fake gardens were much more orderly than those on the outside. The gold detailing wasn't chipped or scattered in here; it was painted perfectly and beautifully maintained. The polished black obsidian tile under his hooves reflected everything above into a perfect shadow version of the restaurant.

Live music played from an alcove, something lively with a lot of string instruments. It fit in with the surroundings perfectly. Servers buzzed about carrying trays of gorgeously plated and truly delicious food, the tempting smell of it filling the place despite the high ceiling and slick stone surfaces.

In the center of the place, between tables full of well-off demons and celebrities, was a massive artificial waterfall, stretching from the floor and almost touching the ceiling. It poured from a massive bronze pot into a pool lined with glimmering marble tiles. The pot was held aloft by a pure white ivory statue of a human woman, barefoot in a chiton.

It short, it made Caesar's palace, that is, the actual Caesar's palace in ancient Rome, look like a tacky knock-off.

Waiting beside the massive centerpiece was Felix, whose warm smile hadn't changed a bit since bidding him goodbye in front of Aureate Towers. As if he had been thinking of him the whole time…

Moxxie shook his head and handed off his helmet and leather jacket to a tired-looking coat check attendant before finally making his way over to the taller imp.

"Hey Songbird. How was the ride? Bet you missed the rush, huh?"

Moxxie tried and failed to convince himself that the warmth on his cheeks was the result of the wind in his face from the ride.

"Where is everyone else?"

Felix's eyes remained soft, though his smile faltered just a bit.

"They're waiting on us, but first we need to make a quick detour. Turns out we're not the only ones here in a private room tonight~"

For a second he thought the taller imp would try to take him by the hand, as he used to do, but instead he just gestured for him to follow.

Past the tables full of diners whose conversations seemed to fall silent as they passed. Going out with Felix was always like this. Whether it was because of his good looks, money or status, the winged demon's presence made everyone sit up and take notice.

It was one of those things that had excited Moxxie when they were together. The knowledge that this important, desired individual, with all his intelligence and good taste, had chosen him.

Towards the end though, he felt like an exotic pet being dragged about on an especially short leash.

That was the feeling he desperately tried to drag up to the surface now. That heavy stone of dread and apprehension to crush the butterflies infesting his gut. But no matter what, all he could see was that perfect, warm smile…

They went through the main dining room, up a set of polished and gilded stairs, towards the private dining rooms. Felix approached one seemingly at random and knocked twice, firm and loud.

The door cracked open, and the older imp stepped inside, bidding the freckled musician to follow. He entered right behind his ex and saw a table full of familiar faces.

Felix's siblings. All six of them.

He had met them before, but usually just one at a time. As a group, they were more than a little intimidating. Like Felix, they were all good-looking, successful, intelligent. And they all had wings and birthmarks on their foreheads, just like their brother.

Louis sat at the head of the table, as he usually did. He was the oldest. Perfectly quaffed white hair, slightly curled back horns and nearly flawless red skin, save for the birthmark between his eyes, a pure white apple shape. As usual, he wore an elegant cream white suit with red accents. He worked in the Sanctum of Sin.

Next to him was Levi. He had longish hair which would have made him look shaggy had it not been pulled into a perfect low ponytail, slick and shiny. He had on a dark vest with green serpent brocade over a crisp dress shirt. His birthmark looked a bit like a dagger pointed towards the center of his face. According to Felix, he worked as an oceanographer.

Then was Stan, with his body-builder figure and broad shoulders. His horns always reminded Moxxie of a steer, and he wore faded overalls on top of a gray wife beater. He was covered in rugged scars, but his birthmark, shaped vaguely like a human skull, still shone out like a beacon. He owned a massive ranch in Wrath.

Sat beside him and smiling in her usual lupine-esc way was Beatrice, who insisted that he always call her Bea. Her hair was still dyed and streaked with neon that complimented her candy-colored party dress. Her birthmark looked a bit like a bumblebee. She was also a wildly successful party planner and caterer.

Belle was already half asleep beside her, her curly black ringlets falling lazily over her eyes. It was hard to see her outfit in her slumped position, but if he had to guess, it was probably another soft and oversized sweater. Peeking out from behind her bangs was her birthmark, a white swirl that reminded him of a snail's shell. She worked in Sloth in a medical lab.

Finally, there was Ozzie, the youngest. He was muscled like Stan, but his skin was smooth and scarless. He wore a top that looked a bit like a corset, very scandalous and lustful, which was fitting as he managed several clubs in the Lust Ring. His birthmark was a pair of Valentine-style hearts, one pointed up and the other pointing down. He had two tattoos of demonic heads, one on each shoulder, and dreadlocks dyed purple and blue going down his neck and back.

They all smiled at him, and he felt like he just walked into a den of starved wolves. Felix placed a hand between his shoulder blades and Moxxie jumped slightly.

"Why don't you sit down Mox Star? Catch up, have a quick bite. I know you don't like eating in front of your father."

All eyes on him, the freckled imp nodded blankly and took a seat next to Ozzie. His ex beamed.

"I'll go get us some drinks. Something special for the occasion. Be right back~"

And he stepped back into the open portion of the restaurant.

Moxxie fought not to shake in his seat. Meeting a partner's family was hard enough, but reconnecting with an ex's family felt like the kind of torture not even Hell would allow. What the f*ck was Felix up to now?!

Next to him, Ozzie smiled.

"I get that you're nervous, but don't worry about it. We all liked you then, and we still like you now~. Felix is a pain to live with, so I get it." The larger imp purred.

Louis shook his head and turned to face his sibling.

"Ozzie, don't be a bitch. What kind of siblings would we be if we didn't take Felix's side or try to talk him up?"

"Honest ones." Stan cut in gruffly.

The oldest brother clicked his tongue and slid a plate towards Moxxie.

"Ignore them. Here, have a bite."

The food did look delicious…porcini mushroom risotto, creamy and fragrant. He picked up a fork and took a bite, letting the flavors coat his tongue. So good…

"How do those maggots taste, Mox?"

The freckled imp looked up towards his ex's older brother in confusion. The winged imp smirked and and continued.

"You're eating maggots, Moxxie. How do they taste?"

A trickle of fear went down his spine and Moxxie looked down at the plate again. It wasn't risotto. On the plate was a mass of writhing pale maggots, the sour earthy smell of which filled his nostrils.

In a mad panic, he spat the mouthful he had into his napkin, much to the delight and raucous laughter of his dining companions. He looked up in shock, then back down at the napkin in his palm…

Not maggots. The food on the plate wasn't maggots anymore either.

Louis cut into the noisy laughter of his siblings in a calm voice.

"It's just risotto, Moxxie."

Levi leaned over, thrusting a plate in the young musician's face with a sly smile.

"Here, have some worms to get the taste out of your mouth."

On the plate was a tangle of squirming red worms, wet and glistening with mucus. He could actually hear them, squishing and sliding against each other and the plate.

His hand shot out and swatted the dish out of Levi's hand. It clattered to the floor and spilled it's contents against the slick black stone.

More laughter from Felix's family.

"It's just pasta, Moxxie." Levi chuckled out.

Looking over to where the plate had landed, Moxxie saw that he was telling the truth. It was just pasta, spaghetti with red marinara sauce.

This was really weird…

"Come on guys! Don't tease him! Not without me~"

Felix sang out as he reentered and took a seat beside the shorter imp. He was actually relieved to see him, he just needed something he knew to focus on before he lost his mind.

Bea giggled. "We're just having some fun, Fe! It's been forever since we saw Mox, we missed him too!"

Stan grunted beside her.

"Yeah, he actually made you tolerable."

The buisness imp just rolled his eyes before he pulled Moxxie's glass towards him.

The 'special occasion' drink he had brought back with him came in what looked like an ornate wine bottle. Gilded with gold and decorated with a picture that spanned the entire body, from the curve of the neck to its base. It was a bit like a fresco in style, and it depicted a strange scene.

A gorgeous garden, teaming with animals. A snake twisted around a fruit tree, a lion chasing a lamb through tall grass, a flock of birds taking off from the underbrush.

It would have been idyllic, if not for the massive fissures of dark magma opening from under the roots of the trees. Or the ominous, angelic glow that beamed down from the clouds. The anomalies of nature bathed the garden in a sinister light.

There wasn't a name or date on the bottle, but that wasn't too unusual. Many of the fancy or rare drinks Felix enjoyed came from distilleries who thought too highly of themselves to print names on their products.

The winged demon poured it into the crystal glass, but what came out wasn't red or white wine like he expected.

Instead, he poured a swirling, glimmering gold liquid. Like mercury, it seemed to move and reflect the light in a strange way.

But this wasn't weird either. One of the first things Moxxie learned about his former lover was the older demon's fondness for liquors that contained valuable minerals. Gold flecks, finely powdered gemstones and the like.

Still, he didn't want to just drink anything…

"What is it?" Moxxie asked. Felix smiled warmly and his eyes filled with amusem*nt.

"It's my blood~" he purred.

The freckled demon rolled his eyes. What was with this stupid hazing? Felix was usually smarter than this…

He picked up the glass and gave it a swirl. It didn't smell too alcoholic…it smelled a bit like…apples? And something else sweet, like vanilla or caramel, with just a hint of something metallic underneath, which he chalked up to gold leaf. Still, he hesitated.

Then the chant began.

"Moxxie, Moxxie, Moxxie…" low, almost a whisper. It was just Louis at first, but then the rest of them started to join in.

"Moxxie, Moxxie, Moxxie…!" It was getting louder now. Rising in energy.

It wasn't like a frat party or bar room chant…it felt almost occult. Like he was suddenly in the middle of some strange ritual.

"Moxxie, Moxxie, Moxxie!"

He turned to Felix, the only demon in the room not chanting his name. His warm smile was still there, his gaze still soft…

"Well? We're waiting~"

Against his better judgement, Moxxie lifted the glass to his lips and drank. It was sweet on his tongue…then it burned.

Whatever he was drinking, it stung his esophagus like battery acid. It was stripping his insides raw, like turpentine on old paint. Like flames licking against old, dried wood.

He wanted to spit it out, throw the glass against the wall, scream in agony. But he couldn't. Like he was possessed by something. Something that told him stopping now would be a bad idea.

Now that he had started…whatever this was, he had to finish.

The pain made the experience of finishing the drink feel like it lasted an eternity, but in reality it was most likely less than a minute. But after the last drop slipped past the threshold of his throat, the pain stopped all at once. Replaced with a brief, but warm and powerful sense of euphoria, then he was back to normal.

When he put down the empty glass, the other demons at the table burst into cheers and clapping. He looked up, and blinked. And blinked again. And kept blinking because something was very, very wrong…

He was still surrounded by the same imps that he had sat down with, but behind them their shadows were…different than they should be.

Stretched and twisted, these weren't the shadows of imps. They were…something else. A three-headed beast, a strange fox-insect hybrid, a tall figure with a snake-like smile stared back at him in perfect silhouette on the walls. A sea serpent, a snorting beast, a sleeping behemoth played and danced behind the winged demons.

Then, just like the pain, he blinked and the shadows were normal again. As if he had imagined it.

Concerned for both his physical and mental health at this point, Moxxie opened his mouth to ask what he had just drunk, only for Felix to interrupt him.

"Great job Lucky Coin! Most demons wouldn't be able to stomach it past the first sip! Guess this proves that you really are a special breed." The business imp cooed as he rose up from his seat.

His siblings followed suit, and the taller imp gestured for Moxxie to join them.

"Come on Golden Eyes. The night is still young."

He did, and followed them out of the private dining room. The group then left the restaurant, of course drawing more stares on their way out, and made their way to the parking lot.

Stan had a chopper, beat-up and black, but Felix's other siblings drove cars. Very nice, luxurious sporty cars that they loaded themselves into.

Felix himself was straddling a dark gold city bike, a similar model to Rhapsody that he had christened Drachma. When had he brought it here? And how?

The winged demon smirked at Moxxie, before looking towards Rhapsody pointedly.

"Let's all go for a ride." Moxxie nodded, pulling on his jacket and helmet…

When had he picked them up from coat check?

It didn't matter. He was once again on autopilot. He climbed onto his own bike. Felix smiled in approval before putting on his own helmet and revving the engine. His siblings joined in, the roars of nearly a half million soul's worth of horsepower filling up the night.

Then, Louis's ride, an apple red ragtop, peeled out of the lot. And like a dam breaking, the rest followed, and Moxxie let himself be pulled with their tide.

The ride was speedy, terrifying ... .and thrilling in a way that the former rockstar had pretended not to miss for years.

The wind whipping around him, the buildings and landmarks becoming nothing but a blurry in the corner of his eye. Felix's form always just ahead of him, but always out of reach…

Every turn felt like it would throw him from his ride and into the street. Every inch of straight shot down an abandoned stretch of road made him feel like a bullet roaring through the chamber. His heart pounded against his ribs, his fingers twitched on the handle bars despite his tight grip.

More, more, MORE!

But then their convoy came to an abrupt stop, and he was forced to swallow his desires, unable to feed his inner speed-demon.

Felix was waiting, leaning against Drachma. He smirked as if he could already tell what Moxxie was feeling.

He could always tell what Moxxie was feeling.

"Don't worry, Mox Star. We've got more thrills planned." He nodded to his siblings, and they all began to make their way to an old, decrepit bridge.

One Moxxie recognized as a form of transport between the industrial district and the quarry.

He followed them again, despite his internal voice screaming at him not to. And they all stood together in the center, looking out over a deep, artificial canyon made by Prince Mammon's mining activities.

There was silence for a moment, then Louis looked over to Moxxie, smirked….

…and let himself fall backwards off the side of the bridge, into the smoggy abyse below.

Before the freckled imp could react, let alone scream, Levi followed suit, arching his arms like he was preparing for a dive.

Stan went next, tucking his limbs as if preparing for a cannonball. Then Bea, who giggled and leapt off with a little hop.

Belle made brief eye contact with him before simple falling sideways off the bridge herself, as if she was falling asleep. Ozzie stuck out his tongue and jumped off with a loud whoop.

Soon, it was just him and Felix, who turned to him and smiled just as he was lit up from behind by some massive bright light. Then, came the roar of a massive engine, and the shrill cry of a train whistle. The bridge began to shake beneath their hooves.

"Don't be afraid to take the plunge when you've already come this far."

And with that cryptic statement, Felix joined his siblings, simply stepping off the side of the bridge.

Despite the oncoming train, Moxxie peered over the edge, desperate to know their whereabouts. Sure they all had wings, but wouldn't he have heard…

Then laughter started up from below. Even in the dim light, he could still make out their figures. Hanging on to the pipes and boards sticking out from the bridge, laughing and bidding Mox to join them.

He didn't want to. It was crazy, dangerous….but the train was almost there. He'd never be able to get back to sid ground before it caught him. So he fought the instinct to close his eyes and jumped off the side to join them.

His shaking hands finding purchase on a board jutting out from the side at the very last second.

Then, the train began to pass over them, and he dug his claws into the old, splintering wood. He could feel the vibrations in his bones, and he was certain he wouldn't be able to hold on.

But Louis shocked him once again by smiling and letting go first. Then Levi. Then Stan. Then Bea.

Until it was once again just him and Felix, the latter smiling and laughing like a madman as he screamed over to Moxxie.

"YOU'RE LIKE US NOW MOXXIE! LET GO!"

The freckled imp blinked the panic-induced tears out of his eyes, looking over at his ex.

"WHAT?!"

His smile got wider and his eyes got wilder, almost looking green in the bright flashing lights of the train above them.

"YOU'RE LIKE US NOW MOXXIE! LET GO!" And Felix released his own grip, dropping down into the fog and shadow below.

Moxxie clung to the board, but the train kept coming. He could feel the splinters dig into his tender palms. The muscles in his arms screamed. The train howled overhead, jolting his entire body.

But just below, he could hear Felix and his siblings, whooping and laughing. He took a deep breath.

And he let go.

There was the predictable sensation of falling, but then a strange pulling from just behind him. Then a lightness, like he was floating.Flying.

Then everything went black.

Next thing he knew, he was on a plush designer couch, staring at the high ceiling of the Aureate Towers penthouse.

A fretful Millie sitting by his side and no memory of what happened the night before after following his ex off the bridge.

Chapter 5: The Kids from Yesterday - My Chemical Romance

Chapter Text

Sadly enough, the most painful goodbyes are the ones that are left unsaid and never explained.

Jonathan Harnisch

***************

One of the convenient things about operating a crime syndicate out of the Greed Ring was the fact that the place was fully stocked with demons who were practically designed to be criminals.

That is, loan sharks.

Much like their aquatic Earth counterparts, loan sharks were tough. Most of a loan shark's skeleton is made up of cartilage, which is tough but bendy and harder to break than brittle bones.

Their skin was rough, covered in tiny, hard scales which made it more difficult to pierce at close range. Their sense of smell was better than even that of a hellhound's, and due to their…dietary habits, many weren't adverse to eating certain types of evidence.

Add on their often intimidating appearance, and they made perfect Mafia soldiers. Literal cold-blooded killers who were infamous for being difficult to injure…

…but that didn't mean it was impossible.

That's why the residents of a certain housing project apartment complex were awoken by shrill screaming at 3:00 AM. Being that this was Hell, most tried to just ignore it.

But when it persisted, someone eventually broke one of the landlord's rules and called the cops.

The police found the source of the screams and burst through the apartment doors into a downright Freudian scene.

A young spinner shark woman named Tally Thurman was in the middle of the living room, wearing a bloody house dress. Her hair was disheveled and her eyes were wide and manic.

In her hand, she held a straight razor. Under her, pinned down by his chest, was a much younger loan shark, maybe six or seven, who bore a strong resemblance to Tally.

His wrists and arms were cut into bloody, ragged things, his shirt stained black with blood. He looked over to the newcomers and cried out for help, his voice raw.

As if he had been doing this for hours.

After Tally was properly restrained, the police present discovered that the child was her's. A boy she had named Chazwick, which was evidence enough that she didn't want him in the first place.

The kid was born out of wedlock after being conceived during one of her many stints in a mental institution. As it looked like she was soon to return to such a facility, one of the officers saw fit to call the boy's only other living blood relation.

A shark in a dark suit driving a non-descript car soon arrived in the dilapidated neighborhood. After confirming his identity as Corban Thurman, the police allowed him to take the kid.

Chaz was relieved to finally get away from his unstable, pill-popping mother. But after being shoved roughly into the back of his uncle's car and berated the entire drive to the man's house, he realized that he probably shouldn't expect much.

After being scolded for attracting the attention of the local law, he was hurried into the man's house. It was notably much nicer than his mother's apartment, and it looked like they were still moving in. There were half unpacked boxes everywhere and all the furniture looked new.

He wasn't given a chance to look around though. His uncle just pulled him roughly by his sore, still bleeding wrist before handing him off to his aunt, who was waiting by the downstairs bathroom.

"Gonna call Crimson. See if he can't make all this go away." Corban told his wife gruffly before walking off.

She nodded and instructed Chaz to sit on the closed lid of the toilet.

The next twenty or so minutes were spent with her roughly sewing up the younger demon's injuries with thick, yellowed thread and an upholstery needle. She didn't bother sterilizing anything or even washing the blood off his arms. Every time he'd flinch or move, she'd give him a harsh smack to the back of his head.

After the wounds were stitched up in painful, bunchy sutures, she gave him a fresh shirt to wear rather than his bloody one.

It was one of his cousin's old ones, a simple long sleeve t-shirt. Faded slightly and stretched to Heaven and back, but clean. It was baggy on his malnourished frame, the sleeves covering all but the tips of his claws.

Not much time passed before his uncle came back and instructed Chaz to follow him back to the car.

"Got an important meeting with my boss. You're coming with."

The short drive took them to a side of town he had never seen before. The houses were huge, with big fancy gates and actual lawns. They pulled up to an impressive green mansion, where his uncle exchanged a few words with a heavy shark at the door before they went inside.

They walked through the silent mansion, Chaz doing his best to ignore the mounted demon parts staring down at him from the walls. The smell of old blood. The cold gazes of the other loan sharks walking the halls.

Finally, they came up to a massive set of dark wooden french doors. Corban raised a fist to knock, but the door was opened from the other side before he could.

A great white with red eyes and an underbite glowered down at them.

"Thurman. Boss is waiting. Come right in." He held the door open and the smaller shark went in, leaving his nephew outside in the hall.

Though the door was shut and locked, he could still hear his uncle's voice, arguing with someone whose own tone was ragged and rough.

"Please, Mr. Knolastname. My sister, she's a bit out there, but she doesn't need to be institutionalized."

"Look, Corban, my hands are tied here! You know I like you, but I can't just give out favors to anyone who asks! What kind of example would that set for Mox?"

"But I'm not just anyone! I made caporegime, I'm in the inner circle!"

Then there was a loud 'thud' like something slamming against a piece of furniture or a wall.

"Yeah, you made capo two months ago by the skin of your fangs! Don't let instant success go to your head, Thurman. The only reason you even got promoted was because the rest of your crew died in that helicopter shoot-out. So no, I'm not getting your crazy sister off the hook."

"Well, can you help me do something about her brat then?" His uncle's voice was beginning to sound desperate.

"What about him?"

"I don't want him! Little freak! He doesn't even have a dad I can pawn him off on! Wish Tally had just finished…"

That was all he heard as he ran down the hall, away from the cruel voices. He could feel hot, slimy tears trailing down his face but he didn't care. He ran down the hall, and flew up a flight of stairs in a panic when he saw looming shadows coming towards him.

Once on the second floor, he fell to his knees, drying his face on the baggy sleeves of his borrowed shirt.

f*ck them! He didn't want them either!

Huffing and breathing like he had just ran a marathon, he let out another choked sob. It wasn't fair. He was just a kid, so why did everyone who was supposed to love him hate him so much?

Anger and misery boiling in his gut, he reared back his fisted hand and punched the wall. It felt pretty good. So he punched it again. And again.

And he kept going until his arm was shaking and his knuckles stung. Letting a few puffs of air out, he slumped against the wall again. He could feel something warm and wet soaking into his shirt. Must have popped a stitch. But he didn't care.

He sat there, listening to his own heavy breathing as he stared up at the ceiling. Desperately trying to empty his head of his uncle's cold words.

Then he hears a door creak open beside him and a soft voice call out.

"Daddy?"

He looked over to see one of the smallest imps he had ever seen in his life that wasn't some noble's purse pet. Standing there, staring at him with big round eyes.

He had horns that zigged and curled back and white freckles dusting his cheeks. His hair was neatly combed, and he wore some pretty fancy clothes. A white button up under a pale blue sweater with a matching bowtie. His legs were covered by khaki slacks, creases crisp and perfect.

Fancy clothes, but he looked too young to be a servant…

Crap! This guy must live here or something, and he just caught Chaz attacking his wall! His uncle was already pissed, if he got in trouble here, who knows what he'd do!

"L-look that wasn't…I-I mean I'm not…" he babbled, trying to think of an explanation he wouldn't get beaten for.

But the imp interrupted him.

"Who are you mad at?"

He asked innocently, as if it were an obvious question. Chaz just stared blankly back at him.

"Huh?" The imp stepped closer before joining him on the floor.

"My dad only hits m…things when he's mad at someone. Who are you mad at?"

The shark stopped his internal panicking to ponder the question. Was he mad? He had a good reason to be mad, but who was he mad at specifically?

His mom, for having a kid just to beat him? His uncle, for trying to send him back to that same woman who had tried to kill him just a few hours ago?

Then the imp piped up with his opinion.

"Are you mad at the person who messed up your stitches?"

The shark looked down at his arms. His wild attack on the wall had left the sleeve bunched up around his elbow, revealing the poorly done stitches slowly tearing through his flesh. Sure enough, one had already popped, a fresh trickle of black blood joining the dried viscera on his forearm.

Still, he couldn't say anything. Not without risking word getting back to his uncle and giving the man an excuse to go ballistic on him.

"No, t-they aren't messed up, it's fine, I…"

"I know how to fix them, if you want."

Chaz looked back up at the freckled demon. He didn't seem to be lying or joking. The shark nodded stiffly before allowing the shorter hellborn to help him up by his wrist, much more gently than his uncle had dragged him around.

He was led to a large, fancy bathroom. All shiny marble fixtures and clean, sparkling black quartz tile. He was once again sat on a closed toilet, but this time his impromptu nurse was notably more patient and gentle.

The other kid took the time to clean off all the dried blood with a warm, damp cloth before cleaning the jagged wound with antiseptic. After removing the old stitches with tweezers, he sterilized a thin, shiny needle with alcohol and used a length of thin thread he retrieved from a medical pouch to carefully close the cut.

He was half done when he noticed the other arm, dried blood and dirty twine going down it's length as well. After finishing off the first with antibacterial cream and stretchy fabric bandages, the imp started work on the second one. Unlike his aunt's handiwork, this didn't hurt at all.

Chaz watched in silence until his curiosity couldn't be contained.

"How do you know how to do this?"

The freckled demon looked up with a hint of surprise in his eyes.

"Oh, my dad taught me. He says that I'll have a really important job when I grow up. With a lot of responsibilities and people to take care of, so I had to start learning how to do everything right away."

"Wow, that's so cool. I wish I had a dad around to teach me cool stuff!"

This seemed to darken the smaller demon's expression a bit before he put his focus back on treating the shark's wound. Never one to let an obvious change in the mood stop him, he carried on.

"My name's Chaz! What's your name?"

His freckled caregiver looked back up at him, eyes a bit brighter now.

"My name is…"

"MOXXIE! Where are ya? We've got a missing guest!"

It was that same hoarse voice he had heard talking to his uncle. The bathroom door flung open, and another imp, this one an adult, stepped in, followed closely by his uncle and the red-eyed shark from before.

The new imp looked like the one currently helping Chaz treat his cuts. Same horns, similar shape in his face and hairstyle. But his expression was much colder.

"Mox, what are you doing? Shouldn't you be in your room, pretending that the dresser is Oz, or Jellicle, or something else deeply disappointing?"

The freckled imp looked scared, but still addressed the older demon as clearly as possible.

"Sorry sir. I was helping him with his cuts. His stitches were coming undone."

The older imp's eyes darted over the younger demons. The shark was in the process of having the ragged gash on his arm sewn up. His own child had dried blood flecking and staining his hands with black smudges. Usually the brat hates blood, especially getting any on him …

Next to him, Corban spoke up.

"Don Crimson, I am so, so sorry about this! Let me take…"

"How old are you, kid?" The Don was addressing the younger shark.

"I-I'm eight …sir " he stuttered out.

The older demon nodded in approval.

"That's only a year older than Mox." He then addressed his spawn.

"Slugger, how would you like to schedule a playdate for you and your new friend?" The freckled demon's eyes lit up.

"Really?!"

"Of course! As long as Mr. Thurman is ok with it."

The loan shark beside him nodded frantically.

"Of course it's ok! More than ok! We'll be here with bells on!"

The freckled imp, Moxxie, beamed at his patient.

"I never get to have friends over! You wanna come back over and play, right?"

Chaz blinked. Ok, this was weird. No one was ever happy to see him or have him around, so what was going on? He felt out of his depth and was tempted to say no, just to be safe, but his uncle's glare told him that wasn't an option.

"Sure, sounds fun." He replied instead.

Although, he couldn't see this working out…

*******************

The sunlight trickling in through the blinds woke him up from his nostalgic dream. Rubbing his eyes and wincing at the throbbing pain in his skull, Chaz sat up. He had fallen asleep on a couch again, his own this time, and his cell was buzzing and beeping on the coffee table.

Unlocking it, he saw that he had dozens of unread messages. He only bothered reading the latest one.

Fake Asian Bitch: Chazwick, you rejected fraternity mascot, are you up yet!? Hose off whatever you spent last night wallowing in and get your skinny ass over here! Today's the day we catch up with Mox, remember?

Right. Moxxie was back in town. While part of him was obviously thrilled to see his best friend again, that part didn't outweigh the seriousness of the situation. And he was never good with serious situations.

He was happy Moxxie was back, he just wished it was under different circ*mstances. And he was really hoping he wouldn't have to deal with the imp's crazy-ass ex.

*************************

Amazingly, Moxxie's head didn't hurt. That being said, there was a notable pain between his shoulder blades. His wife was rubbing his head, cooing over him.

"Oh Mox, are you ok? What happened?"

Blinking off the sleep, he sat up. The pain just below the nape of his neck throbbed, but he powered through.

"I'm fine…I think. I just…" he glanced around the penthouse.

Loona was lounging on a nearby loveseat, browsing the Hellnet on her phone. Blitzø was in the kitchen, assembling some kind of…something. Maybe it was edible, but he couldn't be sure given the amount of ketchup he was dousing it in. Lefty was out of his room and sleeping in a nearby sunbeam coming in through the balcony.

There was a notable absence, one that had some serious explaining to do.

"Where's Felix?" Moxxie asked before he could stop himself. Millie huffed.

"That bastard just dropped you off here at five in the morning and took off, said he had important work to get back to."

He sighed. Very typical. Whenever he actually needed him, Felix was nowhere to be found. Treating him like a prince one minute and an afterthought the next. Still, seeing him for his flaws was better than silently swooning over him.

"Baby, what happened?" Millie started at him, her eyes pleading.

"I'm not really sure. I only had one drink, but most of the night is a blur…"

He was trying his best to remember, when his upper back started to burn in pain, to the point where he curled in on himself a little.

"What's wrong?"

Moxxie tried to power through the intense muscle spasms, but they were…weird. Like he was experiencing pain in a body part he didn't even have.

"My…back…between my shoulders, it …really hurts!"

"Hang on, I'll take a look."

Careful not to jostle him too much, the gap-toothed imp carefully removed her husband's suit jacket and shirt. She was in the process of taking off his undershirt, but stopped to gasp when she had it pulled up to his nape.

"Mox, you got a tattoo!"

"WHAT?!"

Their exclamations brought the other two members of IMP rushing over to crowd the freckled thespian. Sure enough, he had gotten inked.

It wasn't a bad tattoo. In fact, it was a gorgeous design. Black and white dragon-like wings stretched elegantly from his spine and feathered out over his shoulder blades.

"Oooh, hot! Now you're really jailbait Mox!" Blitzø exclaimed.

Loona pretended to not care, but managed to take a single silent picture with her phone.

'Nice ink…' she mused.

"Why did you get a tattoo?!" Millie cried.

Moxxie himself was struggling not to panic.

"I…I don't know! I don't even remember getting it, I…I think Felix may have drugged me, but…"

The country imp's face turned as cold and hard as ice.

"I'm gonna skin that PA f*ckwit like a trout." She growled out, her voice scarily level.

"Hun…"

"Did he touch you?"

That was the big question, but thankfully he knew the answer for that one.

"No, he didn't. I'm sure of it."

There was a flash of relief in Millie's eyes. Luckily for him, it was the definite truth. Felix liked to…leave his mark whenever they used to be intimate. The lack of bite marks, hickies or bruises meant that he hadn't crossed that line, thank Lucifer.

Still, this was a major wake-up call.

"Well, obviously this means we're not going through on the deal." Moxxie stated flatly.

Blitzø reacted as calmly and maturely as he ever did.

"What, no fair! Just 'cuz you're a lightweight, we're not gonna get to do cool rockstar sh*t and get a bunch of cool rockstar money?!"

The married couple shot him a joint glare before the freckled imp continued.

"I told you he can't be trusted, but you didn't listen and now look at what's happened! And I'm lucky that it's just a dumb tattoo that no one can see. The minute Mr. Avarice gets back, we're telling him that the answer is no. Period."

The taller imp continued to pout, but the rest of his crew was silently relieved.

While living the high life while on tour with a legendary rock star sounded amazing, Loona was too scared of Moxxie's ex and his family. The f*cker had dislocated her wrist for one sly remark, she didn't want to be stuck with him for six months! Plus, the imp's father looked like the type to maim first and ask questions never.

Millie wanted her husband to be happy and free, but it wasn't worth all this! That clingy psycho could have seriously hurt him, no way was she gonna stick around and wait for him to get another chance!

A taste of the old life seemed like fun at first glance, but Moxxie didn't want to get sucked back into this abyss after fighting so hard to escape the first time. And moreover, he didn't want to find himself constantly fighting the fluttering feelings in his chest that had begun to resurface.

"Fine, whatever. I'm never gonna get to meet Cool Moxxie!" Blitzø grumbled as he started back towards the kitchen to resume making his…thing.

But he was too late.

His creation, a leaning tower of various food and foodstuffs, had started to take on an obvious angle before collapsing into a sloppy pile on the floor.

"Our breakfast!" The ex-clown cried, falling to his knees.

No one knew how to tell him that they never had any intention of eating…whatever that was.

"I'll call up the cleaning staff and tell them there's been an incident." Moxxie said flatly, walking over to the intercom.

Felix would definitely use any damage to his living space as leverage against them.

"Ooh, call up room service or whatever too!" Blitzø called, hopping over the counter to crowd his weapon's expert.

The impish musician just rolled his eyes.

"No room service. No take-out. We'll just have to eat whatever is left that isn't splattered on the floor."

"Can't. That was everything that was in the fridge."

His employee blinked.

"That was…but how…and why would you…?" Moxxie shook his head.

"You know what, it doesn't matter. There's an organic grocer on the corner, let's just go get some ingredients and I'll make us some breakfast."

Millie noticeably perked up.

"Can we have pancakes? The ricotta and blueberry ones with bacon and honey butter syrup?" Her husband smiled warmly.

He did love spoiling her.

"Of course."

She squeaked with excitement and hopped up to get ready. Meanwhile, Moxxie buzzed the maids and went over to the kitchen. Opening an opaque cookie jar carved out of some milky green crystal, he pulled out a thick fold of cash.

"Mr. Avarice might kick up a fuss if he finds out, but he probably doesn't remember much he left in here anyway." He said out loud as he pocketed the money.

"Besides, he owes me at least this much for whatever that was I went through last night."

After putting Lefty in his room and letting in the cleaners, apologizing for the ridiculous mess Blitzø had left, the members of IMP made the journey to the grocery store.

Thankfully, it was only about a block from Aureate Towers; rich people don't want to drive for more than ten minutes to get their all-natural macadamia nuts or silicone-free mint shampoo.

"Does Mr. Avarice cook a lot?" Millie asked half-heartedly as she watched her husband inspect the cartons of blueberries.

Moxxie shook his head.

"Not at all. Unless you remind him, sometimes he doesn't even eat. Part of me is still shocked that he had all that food in his fridge in the first place."

"What's the point of the big fancy kitchen and appliances then?"

He averted his eyes, pretending to be focused on checking the ripeness of the fruit.

"He…a lot of the kitchenware were gifts from his sister, but he kept them put away until I moved in with him. I found them, and told him how much I like cooking…"

He didn't finish the sentence, but didn't have to. His ex had put out the expensive appliances and done up the kitchen for Moxxie's sake. Another example of all the ways he had spoiled the younger imp.

A nasty thought popped into the country imp's head. All that food, but he doesn't cook. Pretty much all the packages Blitzø had taken the food out of were new, sealed and unopened. It was all fresh…

…had that bastard bought an entire fridge full of food hoping Moxxie would cook for him?

She could at least understand that much. Mox is a damn good cook, always has been. He probably cooked for him all the time when they lived together. Millie could picture it.

Felix, walking into that big fancy apartment, smelling homemade garlic bread and marinara. Moxxie, greeting him from the kitchen, maybe wearing a cute apron and smiling widely.

"Dinner will be ready soon."

The older man would probably say something about how they could afford to eat out, how his partner didn't have to always go through all this trouble. But Moxxie being Moxxie, would just brush him off.

"When you love someone, you go the extra mile for them."

Something he had said to Millie on more than one occasion whenever he went overboard with his coddling.

Did…did Mox make these same pancakes for him, too? Frying each one in bacon grease so the edges were golden and crunchy? Topping them with homemade honey butter syrup that perfectly complemented the sweet and melty center?

"Honey? Are you ok?"

Her husband's voice knocked her out of her thoughts. Then she realized she had been grimacing and squeezing the life out of the melon she had picked up. Her sharp nails had pierced the hard rind and now she had sticky juices dribbling down her arms.

Moxxie handed her a handkerchief which she gratefully accepted.

"Sorry sweetie, just distracted." She wrapped the mashed fruit in a plastic produce bag and set it in their cart.

The freckled imp smiled sympathetically and lightly placed a hand on her shoulder.

"We won't be here much longer. Let's just have a nice breakfast and relax before we have to have another sit-down with Mr. Avarice."

After picking up the rest of the ingredients, stopping Blitzø from getting into a fistfight with a free sample guy, and paying for everything, they started making their way back to the penthouse.

"Huh. Figured this place would be more dangerous." Loona remarked as they walked.

"A lot of people think that, but since this is the more upscale part of the city, most criminals don't dare cause any trouble."

Blitzø smirked.

"Really? This place has a neighborhood named Backstab Borough."

Moxxie rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, but no one wants to piss off any of Prince Mammon's friends. And I should know, I grew up in this ring, remember?"

He stopped walking and turned to face his coworkers and wife.

"Mr. Avarice would never let me go anywhere without a bunch of security guards, it was ridiculous."

He held out a hand to emphasize.

"I know how this place works, I can take care of myself…"

Just then, in a bout of cosmic comedic timing, a speeding black car swerved towards them, a single hand reaching out through an open window and snatching Moxxie right off the sidewalk. It drove away before the other three demons present could even react.

A second after the shock wore off, they immediately started racing after the car, with Millie leading the way, of course. Rounding the corner, they saw it parked in front of a dark alleyway, blocking the view from the street.

The two imps and single hound squeezed under the vehicle and saw Moxxie cornered by three larger, unknown demons. They couldn't see their faces in the dim light, but they could hear them.

"You got a lot nerve, you know?"

"Popping back in town without even telling us!"

"Seems like you need to learn this old lesson again…"

That was enough for someone in the audience to move. Millie ripped out from under the car and attacked the nearest demon, clawing and screeching, until he was on the ground with her strangling him with both hands.

Loona and Blitzø moved to help her, but were stopped by Moxxie's own protests.

"No, stop! Millie, it's ok, I'm fine, they weren't going to hurt me! These are my old friends from when I lived here!"

This stopped the Wrathian in her tracks and she released the demon's neck, a skinny green loan shark.

"Wait, really?" Moxxie sighed.

"Yeah, they were trying to pull a prank on me. This is Devitre,"

The freckled imp gestured to one of the biggest, fluffiest hellhounds any of them had ever seen. He wore dark trousers and a pink cardigan covered in embroidered teddy bears. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and the brindle pattern on his coat looked a bit like tattoos. When he greeted them, he spoke with a heavy accent.

"Privet, new friends."

"This is Miyo,"

Miyo was a somewhat strange looking demon. She somewhat resembled a succubus, but not quite. Her skin was more purple-ish, she lacked wings, and the end of her tail was tipped with a shape more similar to a club on a playing card than the typical heart or spade. She had long, straight black hair and wore a Japanese style school uniform. She simply smirked and nodded.

"And that's Chaz, the one you were choking…"

Millie got off the loan shark, who wheezed feebly. Moxxie stepped forward and gestured to his current cohorts.

"Everyone, this is my boss Blitzø, our secretary Loona, and my wife Millie."

"Very nice to meet you all…Millie, you have really strong hands…I can see why Moxxie likes you…" Chaz managed to gasp out between desperate breaths of air as he stood back up.

The gap-toothed imp, for her part, looked a bit sheepish.

"I'm so sorry! They…and I thought…"

"Nyet, do not apologize. It was bad idea to begin with."

Miyo shot the shark a glare.

"Yeah, well, what do you expect from the great mind of Chaz?"

The three newcomers were shocked at her…his…voice. It was deep and manly, but the demon it came out of was feminine and petite. Their reactions just made the target of Miyo's ire laugh.

"Ha! Classic! Miyo, I will never get sick of seeing you freak people out with that!"

Moxxie just rolled his eyes.

"It's great to see you guys, but why are you here?"

Miyo nudged the large hellhound, and they saddled up next to the gangly shark. The purple demon with long black hair took the lead.

"Moxxie, you were one of our very best friends for the longest time. We won't lie and say it didn't hurt when you disappeared, but now that you're back we won't let you go down that same path. This is an intervention!"

They stood in silence for a moment as the rest of the demons present waited for them to continue. The purple demon narrowed his eyes at his gilled companion and repeated.

"Intervention!"

Still nothing. He tried again, this time saying it while elbowing Chaz in his side.

"Intervention! Inter…Chazwick, you absolute waste, you bitched and whined about being the one who goes first, if you forgot, so f*cking help me…!"

Finally, realization sparked in the loan shark's eyes and he started digging through his jacket pockets.

"Oh, sh*t! No, I didn't forget, hang on, it's somewhere…here!"

After some fumbling, he pulled out a folded, wrinkled piece of paper speckled with grease spots. He unfolded it, cleared his throat, and began reading in a somewhat mechanical tone.

"Moxxie, you can't go back to Felix just because he's rich, hot, and he let us throw that bitchin' party at his beach house…"

"Wait, you guys, stop. Why do you think I'm back in town?"

Chaz looked up from the paper in confusion.

"Oh, so you're not…" Moxxie rolled his eyes.

"No, of course not! I just told you I'm married, and I'm not going to leave my wife for someone I literally had to escape from! Why would you think I'd come back for him of all demons?"

Miyo gave the loan shark yet another pointed glare.

"You get three guesses, and the first two don't count."

The lanky demon chuckled awkwardly.

"I may have overheard your dad talking to my uncle about meeting you at Aureate Towers in you and Felix's old place…"

Devitre cut in.

"And instead of asking what is about, he tell us we need do intervention."

Moxxie shook his head, but still smiled despite himself.

"I appreciate it, but it's unnecessary. Mr. Avarice tricked us into coming here to try to get me to sign for a farewell tour, but I'm going to say no. We were just heading back to the penthouse to have some late breakfast."

The three demons' eyes lit up. Miyo smiled cheekily.

"Breakfast? And…you're cooking?" Moxxie sighed.

"You guys want to…"

"Yes!" Chaz exclaimed before sprinting over and jumping into his car.

The long-haired demon smirked at his former boss.

"Sorry to invite ourselves, Mox. Been a while since any of us had home-cooking, you know?"

"It's fine Miyo. Besides, it'll be nice to…"

Honk! Honk!

Chaz was leaning on his car horn.

"Come on, let's go! Been waiting five years for this breakfast!"

***************************

Thanks to Chaz's inability to ever obey traffic laws, they were back at the penthouse in no time. Moxxie was cooking up a storm in the kitchen, Miyo had let Lefty out of his room and was petting the somewhat domesticated tiger as the lazy cat laid over his lap.

Millie and Loona were drinking fancy coffees Devitre put together at the kitchen's bar counter, and Chaz was recounting some of the quartet's more crazy nights from the old days of running wild.

"...so while Miyo and Mox were looking through his wallet for a credit card to pay for all the ink, they found his work ID. Turns out, he wasn't lying; he was a cop.

At this point we're all starting to sober up and know that he'll probably wake up soon himself, so we just used a couple of his cards to pay the tattoo artist and threw in some extra so the owner wouldn't bitch about us leaving the guy there.

Moral of the story, Devitre was right. You shouldn't try to get a tattoo while drunk, because I couldn't decide on what I wanted even after I saw all my ideas on another person."

The lanky imp laughed, loud and obnoxious.

" f*ckin' Hell, Mox! You used to be fun! Why did you have to become boring right before we met!"

"It's called maturing, sir. I highly recommend it." Came the shorter imp's exasperated reply.

Blitzø scoffed.

"Yeah, sooo mature. That's why you got black-out wasted with your ex last night!"

Chaz pouted.

"Aww, I missed drunk Moxxie? I love drunk Moxxie! He always buys me so much more cool stuff than sober Moxxie!"

"Yeah, and drunk Moxxie didn't learn Devitre's lesson! He got a tattoo!"

This caused his old friends to look up at him, mouths agape.

"Mox, you got a tattoo?!" Miyo exclaimed.

The freckled imp winced in embarrassment.

"Yeah…look, obviously I wasn't in my right mind…"

"Show us the tattoo!"

Moxxie frowned.

"What? No, it was a mistake, and I'm going to…"

"""Show us, show us, show us!"""

Huffing, Moxxie put down his mixing bowl and walked into the living room.

"Fine, if it'll get you guys off my back."

Chaz whooped and threw up his hands.

"Peer pressure wins again!"

He sat down and pulled his T-shirt up to the nape of his neck, displaying the illustration on his back.

"Aww!" Came a certain shark's cry of disappointment.

"It's actually good! I was hoping it would be ugly or funny!"

"Thanks so much Chaz."

Miyo gave a thoughtful hum.

"It is pretty nice…where'd you get it? And how much did it cost?"

Moxxie rolled his shirt back down as he stood to head back into the kitchen.

"I don't actually remember any of that, I just woke up and had it."

Millie cut in.

"We think that stalker bitch drugged him."

None of the trio of newcomers seemed surprised in the slightest. Miyo just just rolled his eyes as if the situation was typical.

"Yeah, makes sense, Felix is f*cking crazy."

Devitre nodded.

"Yes, when Moxxie first disappear, we think Felix behind it. Chaz say he finally snap. Turn Moxxie's face-skin into designer speedo."

Blitzø just giggled at the hellhound's disturbing proclamation.

"This guy talks like how I text!"

From the kitchen, a certain freckled thespian cringed.

"That's…a very disgusting image."

"Yeah, we're glad that bastard didn't actually Buffalo Bill you." Chaz said, strolling up to the bar to pour himself an Irish coffee, sans coffee.

"Still, it would have been cool if you had talked to us first. You know we totally would've helped you pull a Gone Girl on that pretentious prick."

Moxxie smiled.

"I know. And I appreciate it, but I didn't want to risk getting any of you involved. Fe-Mr. Avarice is crazy, and he would've raked you all across the coals."

The shark just scoffed.

"Yeah, you already know we're not scared of Mammon's little errand bitch."

"Chaz, he could've had you guys killed."

Devitre took away the bottle of creme liquor his finned friend was overindulging in before addressing the freckled imp.

"We were born in Greed, Pyководитель. We are already dead. Is just no one has buried us yet."

Blitzø looked over in confusion.

"What is that, from a song?"

Miyo addressed the clownish imp as he settled back down on the fancy plush rug with the lazing tiger.

"No, it's from Saint Belial's. Mox, Dev and I are all alumni, and that's the school's credo; 'You're already dead, you just haven't been buried yet'."

"What's Saint Belial's?"

Moxxie looked up from plating the bacon.

"Saint Belial's Academy for Up and Coming Gangsters and Kingpins. It's an all boys private school, and part of an old family tradition. Every head of the Knolastname syndicate graduated from there. I wasn't thrilled about it, but it's where I met Devitre and Miyo."

Blitzø sat up to look his sniper in the eye.

"An all boys private school? With a uniform and everything?"

"Yeah, how did you…"

The taller imp interrupted him.

"Did you guys have dorms too?"

Moxxie furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Yes, but why does that matter…"

"Are you sure your dad wasn't trying to make you gay?"

The freckled imp frowned and huffed before returning to his cooking, pouring batter into the sizzling pan. Chaz just laughed and reached over the bar to pilfer some bacon.

"You know, I asked Mr. Knolastname the exact same thing once, and he threatened to have me beaten to death with my own severed limbs."

Blitzø shuddered slightly.

"Did you go to the fancy private school too?"

"f*ck no! Like my uncle would pay that tuition! Naw, I went to Notamafia Public. Lot more knife fights and police raids, but we had a great football team."

The shark stopped stealing bacon for a moment to pump a fist in the air.

"Go Fightin' Ice Picks!"

Millie made a slight face. "Ice picks…?"

Moxxie sighed as he stacked the pancakes.

"It's Notamafia Public's mascot. The Fighting Ice Picks…?"

The looks of confusion on his wife and co-worker's faces told him they didn't quite get it. Not wanting to explain, the freckled imp put his focus back on plating breakfast, getting out silverware, dishes and juice glasses as he listened in on the conversation.

Millie poured herself another coffee.

"So, how did you and Mox meet?"

Chaz just shrugged.

"My uncle is a capo in his family's inner circle, so I was around his house a lot growing up. Crimson thought Moxxie having more guy friends would toughen him up, so he was cool with it."

Miyo snickered.

"Yeah, and maybe if the guy friend in question wasn't just three slu*tty personality disorders in a cheap suit, it would have worked."

The shark growled at the shorter demon before the country imp caught his attention again.

"Uh, so what's he like? Your uncle, is he…"

"The kinda guy who says 'come over here, you're in trouble but I'm not gonna hit you', then as soon as you're close enough he stabs you in the leg with a switchblade? Yes he is."

Blitzø balked slightly.

"Ok, so everyone who lives here is just like that then?"

"They are if they're from our hometown!"

Moxxie cleared his throat loudly to get everyone's attention.

"Ok, I think we've all had enough of this trip down childhood trauma lane. Breakfast is ready."

The demons all began to take their seats at the bar and serve themselves while the resident chef took a package wrapped in butcher paper out of the fridge.

"Can someone feed Lefty? I picked up some free-range elk steaks for him while we were out."

Chaz stopped drowning his pancakes in syrup to jump up and grab the meat from the shorter demon's hands.

"I got it! Animals love me!" Moxxie noticeably winced.

"I don't think that's…" but he was too late. The aquatic demon was already tearing open the package as he approached the tiger.

He took out the first steak and dangled it in front of Lefty's face. The cat sniffed at it, and made a snap for it only for Chaz to yank it away at the last second.

"Oooh, sorry kitty, ya gotta be quicker than that!"

He kept up this game of high-stake keep-away until the jungle beast's former owner voiced his concern from a safe distance.

"Chaz, you know he doesn't like being teased. Just give him the food before…"

"Pffft, take it easy mom! I'm just having-Oh sh*t!"

Lefty had taken advantage of his tormentor's distraction to lunge at him, tackling the loan shark to the ground. In his panic, Chaz had dropped the steak, but that was no longer the main focus of the tiger's concern.

For now, the big cat was content chewing at the shark's skinny leg as the former soldier screamed and tried to claw away.

After a minute of watching, long enough so that hopefully the shark will have learned his lesson this time, Miyo sighed, stood up, walked over and grabbed another antelope steak.

He whistled to gain the tiger's attention, and threw the steak over to him. Lefty jumped off his seafood in favor of fresher meat, leaving Miyo to help the frazzled shark back up to his feet. But not without berating him.

"This, Chazwick. This is why you keep ending up on all those 'When Animals Attack' reality tv shows."

The taller demon grumbled and followed his friend back to the bar to finish breakfast.

Once everyone was seated again, Blitzø turned to face Miyo, giving him a quizzical look.

"I need to ask you something, but I don't know how without sounding rude."

The purple demon shrugged. "Just ask."

"Just what the f*ck are you?" Moxxie looked at his boss in shocked indignation.

"Blitzø!" Miyo just chuckled.

"Yep, sounds rude." The lanky imp continued.

"I mean, at first I thought you were a succubus or a hybrid, but now I'm not sure." The purple demon smirked.

"Yeah, I get that a lot. I'm a lilim, that is, Greed's answer to succubi. Most of us are topside working for the Clown Prince of Finance, so most other demons don't quite recognize what I am off the bat."

Loona looked up in curiosity.

"So, is there a difference between you and an actual lust demon?"

"Yeah, a couple. For one, all lilim can shape shift freely; makes it easier to capture our targets. Second, we don't really feed on lust so much as the greed that lust inspires. Our whole thing is targeting rich or desperate humans and tricking them into spending all their money on us in exchange for affection."

Blitzø nodded.

"Ok, so same as what Moxxie used to do."

"Hey!" The freckled imp's anger was ignored as usual when Loona asked a follow up question.

"So if you can shape-shift, why do you look…like that?"

"Because this look is hot as f*ck." Miyo answered as if it were obvious. He took a sip of his cafe au latte and continued.

"Besides, this look is a good excuse not to go topside. Blowing some rich desperate old bitch so she'll cut the kids out of the estate will is not my idea of fun."

Millie looked over at the crossdressing demon.

"What about your voice?" He shrugged.

"What about it? Shape-shifters can't really change everything about themselves; just physical appearance, and even that has its limits. We can't change things like our voices or proportional strength."

He looked up from his pancakes with a sly smile.

"Oh, and it's he/him pronouns, in case you were wondering."

Chaz stopped shoveling food in his mouth long enough to look over at Millie and Loona.

"Just be warned, despite how he dresses, Miyo is our group's token hetero. Don't try to rope him in for girl time, he will take advantage."

This prompted the dark haired lilim to jab a finger into the taller demon's gills.

"Not everyone is as horned up as you, sea scrub." The shark grumbled and rubbed his sore neck.

Blitzø chuckled at the interaction.

"So, the rest of you are…"

"I am gay." Devitre said as he poured himself another mug of French roast. He stirred in some sugar, the tiny delicate spoon looking comical in his massive paw.

"Father was big upset. Is good thing I have brothers, or he would be worse about it."

Millie looked over to Chaz.

"What about you? If you don't mind me asking…"

He smiled.

"No problem! I love attention! I'm…. sh*t, I forgot the word for it…what's the one where you don't really care about what kind of parts someone has, you just want to know if you can use them too?"

"Pansexual?" Blitzø called out around a mouthful of pancake. The lanky shark smiled and clapped his hands.

"That's the bitch!"

Moxxie smiled. Despite the less than ideal meeting, he was glad to see everyone getting along. Still, something was weighing in the pit of his gut like wet concrete. He took a deep breath, turned to look Miyo in the eye and bit the bullet.

"Look, I'm sorry I ran off the way I did. I'm sorry for not telling you, and for leaving you guys jobless, I just…"

"Wait, you got them fired before you left? That's a bitch move Mox." Blitzø blurted out as he reached over to snag some bacon from the freckled musician's plate.

The shorter imp frowned, but Devitre stepped in.

"Moxxie not get us fired. He was boss; he leave, no job to do."

Miyo nodded.

"Yeah, we were originally going to be his crew back when it looked like he was still gonna be inducted, but then 'Marcel Knessuno' started taking off. Mox is a great guy though, so he invited us on as his official entourage."

The former clown's expression turned hard.

"So, Moxxie was basically paying you guys just to hang out, drink and party?"

Chaz nodded, his face split by a goofy smile.

"We got to have lots of sex with his groupies too!"

Huffing, Blitzø crossed his arms and turned to his weapon's expert.

"How could you Moxxie? You told me yourself that I'm the most wild, irresponsible and unhinged demon you've ever met, and yet you don't take me along for crazy rock star parties?!"

The shorter demon rolled his eyes.

"Ok, first of all, that wasn't a compliment, it was a genuine expression of concern. Second of all…"

"I like binge drinking!" Blitzø interrupted him again. "I'll start bar fights with paparazzo unprompted! I'd f*ck someone else's stalker if asked! But noooo….I'm not good enough for the cool version of Moxxie, am I?!"

"I didn't even know you back then!"

"But you know me now!" He whined. "You know me, and you have the opportunity to do badass rockstar sh*t again and invite us all along for the ride, but you won't! Ok, I see how it is!"

The freckled imp shook his head and tried to reason with his boss/friend.

"Blitzø, Felix drugged me. Who knows what he could've done to me in that state. I'm not giving him the chance to try again. As soon as he gets here, we're telling him no and leaving."

The scarred imp stewed in anger, but then remembered something that made him perk up.

"But didn't you want that dumb legal thing…the disfunction clause?"

"Disownment clause."

"Yeah, whatever nerd. You can't get it if you don't do the tour!"

Moxxie's eyes narrowed, but eventually he nodded in reluctant agreement.

"That's true, but the nice thing about Greed is that a lot of problems will go away if you throw enough money at them."

He leaned back in his chair.

"I still have the legal rights to all my old songs. I didn't want to do this, but if I sell them, it should be enough money to keep both Mammon and my family off my back. At least until we can come up with something permanent"

The taller imp sulked.

"So that's it? We get nothing after going through all this trouble?"

Moxxie hissed, slamming both hands on the bar as he stood up to stare down at the harlequin.

"You're not going through any trouble, but I am. You took a deal with my unstable and abusive ex after I warned you not to, dragged me to a place I never wanted to see again, and forced me to confront the man who made my childhood a living nightmare."

Blitzø opened his mouth to interrupt again, but Moxxie didn't give him the chance.

"Not to mention how your selfish behavior has put us all in danger. Millie already told me about those thinly veiled threats Mr. Avarice used. If you think he won't make good on them, then you're the most naïve one here."

He was a little flushed, all this anger sapping his energy, but he kept his voice steady.

"In the short time we've been here, he already permanently altered my appearance after having me in an inebriated state for who knows how long. Even if none of this was your intention, it's still your fault. But it's my decision now, and I'm deciding to leave. To get us all out of this situation before it gets worse."

Moxxie settled back down, took a deep breath, and poured himself some cold orange juice from the crystal carafe. After taking a sip, he set the glass down and looked Blitzø dead in the eye.

"And if you ever want me to forgive you for all of this, then just be quiet and let me handle it my way."

There was a cold silence for a moment, but Chaz's obnoxious voice cut in.

"Ok, I know saying this will kinda ruin the tone of the scene, but is anyone else just a little turned on right now?"

This broke the tension enough to get a giggle from the rest of their group.

The rest of breakfast went fairly well despite the seriousness of the confrontation. Moxxie told his old friends about his life up in Pride and current job at IMP.

And, much to his silent relief, they had jobs to tell him about too.

Devitre was putting his knitting and sewing skills to good use on his own online shop, 'Devitre's Dollhouse'. It was slow going at first, but he was turning a decent profit now. A bunch of infamous influencers made posts on his products and his popularity skyrocketed. Who knew there was such a big market for bespoke pastel sweaters and teddy bears holding AK-47s?

Miyo was a big hit on Vwitch, Hell's most popular vlogger streaming site. He'd play video games and react to cartoons he watched as a kid while dressed in one of his school uniforms. Moxxie didn't quite get it, but apparently a lot of demons are willing to pay to see the temperamental lilim go on a swearing rant against the slime monsters in various RPGs.

Chaz predictably sought out a job where he could have fun and f*ck around without consequence. The loan shark was doing free-lance as a club promoter, and to hear him tell it it wasn't much different from his stint as Marcel Knessuno's hype-man. Loud music, cheap booze, and sexed-up party demons…Mr. Thurman had truly found his niche.

While not conventional career choices, Moxxie was glad to see that his leaving didn't completely destroy his friends' lives. And it was nice they found a way to support themselves without turning back to a life of crime.

It was an especially big relief that Chaz had found a way to keep himself entertained that didn't involve illegal drugs.

Or explosives.

Or swords.

He was the one Moxxie was most worried about when he left. Like himself, the shark didn't exactly have the best support system. He felt guilty for years; neither Devitre nor Miyo were especially close with Chaz, and it wasn't like he could check up on him with risking Fe…Mr. Avarice finding him.

Mr. Avarice…what was he going to say to him? Moxxie was never good at turning the winged imp down. He had this…way about him. Once you looked in those cool, calm eyes, you just felt compelled to agree. The older demon knew this and used it to keep Moxxie in check the entire time they were together.

But this was all stuff he could dwell on later.

For now, he was content enjoying a lovely breakfast with his beautiful wife and crazy friends, both new and old.

But good things always have to end…

The elevator dinged open and the penthouse owner quickly made himself known.

"Mmm…Are those Mox Star's pancakes I smell? Sorry if I'm late to brunch, I was trying to track down some demons for the tour and I had a time…"

Felix's words died on his tongue as the full party came into view. The wealthy imp narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, would you look at that…guess I'll have to put a call down to the front desk and tell them to fire our current exterminator. Seems like they let an infestation slip in."

Miyo and Devitre let their faces twist into matching snarls, but Chaz just chuckled.

"Long time no see, Fe Fe…nice to see you've still got that massive silver rod rammed up your man-twat."

This led his friends to soften their expressions and laugh a bit themselves, much to the rich demon's displeasure.

"Mr. Thurman, it's good to see you again. Though I am surprised…I thought parasites couldn't live without a host."

Moxxie huffed.

"Can you both please stop? We've got something important to discuss."

Felix beamed at the shorter imp.

"Right you are, Lucky Coin. And although it cost a fortune to get the smell out of the furniture from the last time Mr. Thurman visited, I am glad your friends are here."

This caused the impish sniper to quirk an eyebrow. Felix hated his friends almost as much as his dad did, Chaz especially. He only let them around to be his…wait.

The winged demon strolled up to the bar and began pouring himself a coffee before confirming Moxxie's suspicions.

"Can't do a tour without your old entourage! I've been trying to get a hold of you three all day! Were you guys hiding from me?"

His tone was playful, but the implication was anything but.

He could see Miyo tapping his feet on the floor, could feel the vibrations of Chaz's claws scraping at the underside of the counter. Devitre's lower lip was trembling. His own heart rate started to pick up…

No.

'I'm not the same demon I was back then. I can do this. I'll end it, here and now, for now and forever.'

Clearing his throat, Moxxie addressed his former paramour.

"There isn't going to be a tour, Mr. Avarice. In light of recent events, it's become obvious that I can't work with you again. So I'm saying no."

The taller demon looked at him curiously, his mouth still curved into a perfect, friendly smile. His eyes glittered in playful, cat-like way.

"That's so professional of you, Marcel…but you already signed the contract."

Chapter 6: Rockstar by Everclear

Chapter Text

It was hard to venture back near the place you’d been bred without settling into the characteristics of the person you’d been there.

- Joe Hill, Heart-Shaped Box

****************

"Ok, how about…this one?" Devitre held up yet another outfit for Moxxie to inspect and subsequently shoot down.

"Leather pants…I'm not wearing leather pants, guys."

"Why not?" Miyo chirped from his reclined position against the sofa in the penthouse living room.

They were surrounded by half-emptied boxes, clothes and accessories from Moxxie's music career strewn all about. The lilim glanced up from his portable game console.

"That was your whole aesthetic, right? Bad boy ex-gangster with a dash of classic rock and a general sense of bisexuality?"

The shorter demon huffed.

"I am pushing thirty. No leather pants."

"But your ass still looks nineteen!" Chaz quipped, prompting Moxxie to shoot him a glare.

Millie watched on in amusem*nt from her own spot amongst the boxes. The dynamic her husband had with his old friends was sweet and more than a little funny to watch, but it just barely quelled the rage boiling in her gut.

The confrontation from this morning was playing on a loop in the front of her mind.

_—----------------------

“What do you mean?” Moxxie asked, just a hint of nervous squeak in his voice.

The winged imp smiled down at his ex.

“Last night. You kept going on about being so excited for the tour, about how you didn't want to wait to push the legal stuff through. I tried to calm you down, but you wouldn't hear of it. See?”

Felix pulled a familiar packet of papers from his jacket, presenting the gathered demons with the signature.

Sure enough, it was Moxxie's own. Despite being on…whatever his ex had drugged him with last night, his handwriting was as neat and prim as ever, totally unmistakable.

Millie stepped forward, growling.

“You think we're gonna just accept that? You drugged him, you sick f*ck!”

The taller imp’s smile strained slightly, but didn't falter. The playful twinkle in his eyes still gleaming.

“I did no such thing. You can take him to a hospital or clinic if you want to have his system checked. There's nothing bad in there, illegal or otherwise.”

Felix whipped out his phone.

“In fact, I'll put in an appointment for you, since you look like the stubborn type. If you want to contest this, that's fine. Otherwise I pay all those lawyers to just sit around.”

The farm-grown imp grit her fangs, but stood down, remembering her husband's frantic warnings.

The bastard in front of her would love nothing more than for her to attack him, she could sense it.

He'd drag her, and anyone remotely adjacent to her, to court and rake her across the coals in front of an audience, leaving her either imprisoned or impoverished by the end.

Seeing her concede in real time made Felix beam.

“Glad we're all on the same page now! Now, let's talk buzz…”

—---------------------------

Moxxie, or “Marcel Knessuno” was scheduled for a secret show tonight at a club in Mamonopolis.

So, his old entourage, together with his wife, boss and coworker, were trying to prep him for his first appearance as his old stage persona for the first time in half a decade.

Moxxie's bitter mood at being tricked was held in as professionally as possible, but he couldn't keep in all the snark.

“Look, nobody wants to see a has-been, someone who hasn't actually performed in years, on stage, acting like he's still somehow an A-lister in his field despite not actually doing anything anymore.”

Blitzø scoffed from his spot on the sofa.

“You'd be surprised, Mox.” He murmured under his breath.

Beside the shorter imp, his childhood best friend had already fallen back into the swing of acting as Moxxie's number one hype man.

“C’mon, Mox Sox, it's you! It's Marcel Knessuno, you are literally a legend ! So what if you haven't been on stage in a while, it'll all come rushing back to you before you know it!”

Moxxie sighed, but looked up from the pile of discarded outfits.

“You think so?”

The shark smiled broadly.

“I know so! Some things you never forget how to do, like riding a bike, or breaking a snitch’s collar bone!”

The shorter demon winced a bit at his friend's chosen analogy, but still felt better.

About being back on stage, at least. Everything else still has him pretty angry and scared.

None of them trusted any kind of doctor Fe - Mr. Avarice would send him to, so instead they sent a concierge out for a home test.

Of course, even if they could prove that Moxxie only signed because he was under the influence of some illicit substance, dissolving the contract was another ball of wax.

The legal system in Hell was predictably corrupt and faulty on a good day, and that of the Greed ring was doubly so.

Just finding a lawyer who wasn't on Mammon’s or his father's payroll would be difficult, let alone a decent judge. Or a jury who couldn't be bribed or intimidated.

So in the meantime, to avoid the hefty fines and chance of incarceration from a breach of contract, Moxxie was forced to go along with the tour as originally planned.

“Where's yer first show gonna be, baby?” Millie asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

The freckled imp smiled warmly. She always could tell when something was bothering him.

“It's at a club in Mamonopolis that I did shows at a lot when I was just starting out. No matter how big Marcel Knessuno got, he'd always do the occasional secret show at Gold Diggers’. ”

Loona, who had been half-heartedly rooting through Moxxie's old stage clothes, (just because!) perked up.

“Wait, I heard about that place. Isn't it that the expensive dive near the border between this place and Lust?”

Devitre looked over at her, putting the bundle of fabric in his paws down for a moment.

“Yes. Is very popular with both Greedians and Lust denizens. We play there a lot when young.”

A certain lanky shark snorted.

“‘When young’ he says! Dev my hound, we're still young! Which is why before we drag that slimy Wall Street bitch to filth in court, we might as well have fun and raise some Hell!”

Blitzø clapped his hands excitedly.

“Now there's a plan! Let's bring Fun Moxxie out for one last hurrah before I get saddled with Boring Moxxie again!”

The shorter demon in question just grumbled at his employer's rude words, but Millie's warm grip on his shoulder kept him from lashing out.

“ I’ve got bigger problems than Blitzo's lack of manners and tact right now.” he mused silently as he started sifting through another pile of expensive clothes.

Eventually, they settled on distressed and torn black denim layered over fishnet leggings, a dark blue shirt with artful tears and black music note prints, a gunmetal dog tag necklace and some matching fake tail piercings and cuffs for his horns.

It all still fit perfectly, (take that, Loona!), but the feeling of unease was stronger than ever.

“Ugh…feels weird wearing this stuff again…” Moxxie grumbled as he modeled the ensemble.

Millie hopped to her hooves and sprung over to place a kiss on her husband's freckled cheek.

“It's ok, baby…we'll get through this. Besides, you look hot!”

“Gotta agree with you on that!” A familiar voice caught them off guard.

Mr. Avarice entered carrying another box. As bad as things already were, the other demons present still couldn't help but glare at the winged imp.

He just chuckled at their cold reactions.

“Easy there…I know things are a little tense right now, but let's just focus on the positives! Like how I found Mox Star’s signature accessories ~ !”

He plopped the box onto the coffee table, opening it with a claw and pulling out a very familiar jacket.

Moxxie had designed it with Devitre's help when they were still figuring out his desired look.

Midnight black and pinstriped with shiny gold. It had matching buttons, but they were basically just decorative, as the jacket had a hidden zipper.

It was lined too, so he could ride Rhapsody without getting a wind burn on his torso, and fitted to be a bit shorter and tighter than the standard Italian cut.

The embroidered design on the back was still bright, not frayed or faded at all despite the constant use and sudden long term storage.

A pair of bright red women's lips, worthy of a Rocky Horror poster, centered the back. Thick twine, crossed over them in big black ‘Xs’, sewing the mouth shut.

Just above this grim image was “Omertà” embroidered in deep red letters.

And below it, curving to fit around the permanently silent mouth, was the phrase, “ ‘Til Death do We Part” in matching letters.

It was just like the image of Marcel Knessuno itself; a re-shaping of tradition in the name of expression and rebellion.

Seeing it in person again made Moxxie's eyes widen and his heart pound in his chest.

A feeling that was made easier to squash back down when Blitzø leapt over him to try to snatch the article away from their host.

“Holy f*ck, is that the real one?!” He tried grabbing for it again and again, but Felix always managed to keep it just out of his reach.

“Easy there guy…this is a piece of music history! You break it…well, we both know you can't afford to buy it, but it'll still be troublesome. Insurance companies, you know?”

The scarred imp made a face and took a step back.

“Don't know, actually. At this point I'm pretty sure those things are made up.”

The PA just ignored him and tossed the jacket over to his ex, who was able to break out of his shocked state and catch it.

“Mask and cuffs are in here too! Gotta make a splash, even if it's just a secret show! Let them all know Marcel is back in town!”

The shorter imp managed to shake off the fog just enough to nod.

Felix smiled brightly.

“Brilliant. I'm gonna go down to the lobby to meet up with the band and give them the set list, just head over to Gold Diggers' whenever you're ready.”

And the flashy demon left his former paramore there, surrounded by his friends and memories.

The jacket still fit perfectly; every inch of the stitching felt so foreign, yet familiar.

The inner pockets where he'd keep extra guitar picks and a book of matches, the way the slightly cinched waist accentuated his somewhat androgynous figure, the very weight of the garment on his shoulders….

…It was so wrong, yet so strangely comfortable.

“I should have gotten rid of this when I left.” Moxxie thought, catching sight of his reflection in the glass of the balcony window.

“I should have burned it and left a pile of the ashes with the Dear John letter. It probably would have been a clearer message than just returning the necklace.”

Millie saddled up beside her husband, gently touching his shoulder.

“You look so handsome in yer old get-up, baby, but…are you sure about this? Maybe we can…”

The freckled Hellborn cut her off with a sigh.

“Sorry honey, but there's no other way around it. We can't afford the penalty for breach of contract, so until we can legally prove that it was signed under coercive circ*mstances, we'll have to play along.”

The country imp gave him a sympathetic look.

“Well, we'll be here for ya Mox, til the end.”

From his spot on the couch, Chaz whooped his agreement.

“Damn straight! f*ck Felix, and double-f*ck Mammon, no one is getting to our boy!”

The shark's obnoxious outburst made the married couple giggle despite the situation.

This is why, despite major differences in taste and personality, Moxxie maintained friendships with demons like Chaz and Blitzø.

No matter how bad things got, or how dark the world around them seemed, whenever you were with someone like them, you'd find yourself laughing at the chaos in spite of yourself.

Really, as much as he hated to admit it, it was that kind of lightness and humor that kept someone as high-strung as Moxxie grounded.

And one thing the former mafioso candidate needed now more than anything else was a good reason to laugh.

***********************

Golddigger’s was located in the Greed ring, but the club's owner was a baphomet born and raised in Lust.

Greed’s tax code and zoning laws were full of loopholes that made opening such a place with zero credit or background incredibly easy, and incredibly risky.

Gangs and money loaners didn't take well to those who came on their turf but couldn't pay the fees.

Thankfully for the baphomet in question, sex sells well in every ring, so he was quickly able to pay off his debts and turn a profit.

The place was done up in Lust Ring style; calming, sensual shades of dark red and purple, recessed lighting, and provocative performances.

The main differences between it and an actual club in Lust was the ridiculous amount of gold decorations, the overpriced and watered down drinks, and the clientele, who got violent way faster than they got horny.

Overall, it was more 90’s punk rock lounge than romantic date destination, but it still got great buzz in both rings.

Musicians from all seven rings came to play there, and getting a good set spot could turn into a full-on riot.

Like what was about to unfold then and there as a certain succubus popstar was told by the stage manager that her set had been bumped.

“What the f*ck do you mean I've been bumped from the headliner?!” Verosika Mayday growled lowly at the short triceratops in the headset.

The dino demon chuckled awkwardly.

“It was very last minute…”

“Then tell them no.” The taller demon in the miniskirt hissed.

Clearing his throat, the stage manager continued.

“Look, we can't turn them down. This guy has a big name in his corner, he's got a come-back tour to hype up for…”

Verosika scoffed.

“I'm being bumped for some washed-up loser with a come-back tour? Are you kidding?!”

Realizing she wasn't going to let it drop, the stage manager just sighed.

“This isn't personal, it's just how it works here. Don't worry, you'll go on right after our headliner, it's still peak hours.”

The succubus grumbled and stomped away, towards the bar where her crew had already congregated. The Lust Ring demons all sat up at full attention as their boss approached.

“What's up with the schedule?” An incubus with a silver undercut, Josh, asked from his seat at the bar.

The popstar huffed.

“I got bumped is what happened! Now I'm going on after the headliner.”

A skinny succubus with a teased-out afro, Cocoa, huffed.

“Seriously? They were practically begging you to be their Friday night headliner, and they bump you at the last minute?”

Her girlfriend, a blond succubus in a romper named Apple, nodded in agreement as she draped herself over her partner.

“Bitch move.”

Verosika sat down with a pout, snatching a drink off the bar as she did.

“Yeah, and the worst part is that it isn't even someone good! It's some loser trying to start his comeback!”

At this, the tallest member of the crew, Ace, perked up from his phone.

“Wait, he said it's a guy starting his comeback? Here?”

The platinum-haired succubus gave her drummer a puzzled look.

“Yeah, why?”

The incubus was smiling broadly now, tapping away at his phone in mad excitement.

“Holy f*ck, holy f*ck, Holy f*ck! I can't believe it! SoulStack Records has been teasing this for weeks, but I didn't think it was really happening, and I definitely didn't think I'd get to be here for it, HOLY f*ck!”

Even his boyfriend looked at the tall demon with confusion.

Finally, Josh tapped his shoulder, trying to get the dark-haired incubus to elaborate.

“Uh, babe? What exactly is - “

Suddenly, the lights in the club cut out entirely. Spotlights from above suddenly started on and began to focus on the stage.

The MC, a pretty pterosaur demon wearing a black lace mini dress came on over the sound system.

“Attention all dead demons walking; look alive! Because the King of the Underground is back in town, and he's starting the party right here at his favorite old dive!”

The crowd was full of gasps and hushed exclamations of excitement. Demons, including Verosika’s own drummer, began to rush and crowd the stage.

“Tonight, we're playing host to the living legend we all assumed was dead! A special treat for all you sick f*cks whose favorite flavor is forbidden fruit!”

From behind the closed curtains, an intense drum beat started, with an accompanying bassline joining in. Soon, the sound of an electric guitar completed the melody, loud and energetic and intoxicating.

‘Who is this?’ The popstar mused. The MC came back on just as the curtains began to open.

“Take a deep breath, Gold Diggers, and prepare to drown in the sweet sorrow that is Marcel Knessuno! ”

The curtains flung open and standing center stage was an imp decked out in punk rock attire. He was short, but he had the confident swagger of a demon three times his size.

That made sense though; guy was only the biggest musician to ever come out of the Greed Ring.

Suddenly, the change in schedule, Ace’s freak out, the hushed excitement among the patrons all made sense.

Though, the excitement was anything but hushed now as the demon on the main stage began his set, crooning out a sad melody.

“Hello, again, our family friend,

I knew you when ~ “

One of his classics. The throng of demons went wild, cheering and thrashing to get closer to the stage.

Josh had left them at the bar to catch up to his boyfriend, not that it mattered.

Verosika and her crew were left stupefied.

‘It’s actually him.’ the pop star mused, watching the demon on stage play it up for the show.

Regardless of where you were in show business, if you lived in Hell, you knew the name Marcel Knessuno.

The guy busted onto the scene, made a big name for himself, practically changed the game in Greed and then fell off the map.

Like many others, Verosika had assumed he was dead.

But apparently not.

Finishing off his first song in a low, mournful coo, the Greedian rockstar smiled out at the crowd, the green lenses on his domino mask winking in the stage lights.

“How are all of you doin' tonight?”

The demons in the audience cheered back, but Knessuno's voice cut into the middle of their fray.

“Shut up, I don't actually care. The only one who matters here is me, and I'm doin' great!”

The crowd laughed and swooned at the performer’s co*cky attitude.

The guy seemed to live up to his rep; rebellious musical bad boy you want to touch but can't.

A voice next to her cut off her thoughts.

“Damn, Vee.” It was Apple, who addressed her without taking her eyes off the imp on stage.

“I don't think we'll leave much of an impression tonight.”

Verosika flipped her perfect hair and huffed, but internally she knew the shorter blond was right.

She was big, but Marcel Knessuno was a literal legend. He shifted the focus of the entire entertainment industry in Greed and dominated the air waves in Hell for years.

Even today, you couldn't flip through radio stations without hearing at least a snippet of his catalog.

A popstar from Lust, regardless of her own hotness and popularity, wouldn't make a big splash following Greed’s Favorite Black Sheep returning to the flock for a secret show in his home ring.

At the front of the club, Marcel was crooning through the chorus of “Through the Eye”.

“I caught you starin’ and

You caught my gaze ~

Kneel by my feet,

Sing me your praise.

Promised your life, now

Say you're scared to die ~

Lie to me once, you'll

Get two through the eye!”

The crowd loved it, listening in rapt attention, lifting phones to catch video of imp front-running the show.

Yeah, no way was she going to hype up the crowd. Not like this guy. Unless….

Marcel Knessuno was big. Him making a comeback was even bigger.

She could have a quick set with him, right here. At his first comeback show. On his old stomping grounds.

Then, the entire time he was on tour for his comeback, word that she shared the stage with him, even briefly, would be on everyone's lips.

A way, way bigger splash than doing a normal secret show in Greed.

She began to whisper the plan to her crew just as the rock star finished up his second number.

This would be a cinch! His look and attitude already matched her own aesthetic pretty well, and besides that, what hot-blooded demon could ever say no to her ?

******************

While Millie was well aware of her husband's music persona, watching him actually perform was…surreal.

The imp on stage was so drastically different from the one she knew and shared her life with.

Combative and confident, angry and rebellious. Teasing the audience in that vaguely flirty way Marcel Knessuno was infamous for.

A far cry from the sweet, freckled imp who would prep breakfast the night before an early work day so she could sleep in.

On one hand, it was pretty good. He seemed to know just how to play it up without overstepping. Must have been from all those years acting the part.

Marcel as a character was engaging, interesting with a wicked creative bend. It was no secret why he was so popular. She understood that.

But at the same time…she didn't.

The farm bred imp couldn't help but compare the concept on stage to the real demon she knew and loved.

And in her eyes, Marcel couldn't measure up.

It's easy to talk big and be confident when you have all kinds of connections, power and money to burn.

But Moxxie was…better.

Not strong physically, but with a sharp mind. He'd get carried away on plans and strategy now and then, but would usually keep things on track with his foresight on a normal mission.

And knowing what he'd gone through before their meeting made a lot of his quirks and achievements even more impressive in her opinion.

Giving up everything, risking your life and forging a new identity from nothing, all for the sake of simple freedom, was no small task.

She wasn't sure if she could ever do such a thing.

She wasn't sure if she even knew anyone who could.

But with nothing but his own self, her husband, her Mox, had done it.

Marcel Knessuno was just a character, after all.

Moxxie was the real deal.

“Holy sh*t, this is amazing! I can't believe your husband has been hiding his real self from us all this time!”

Know if only she could explain that idea to Blitzø.

Since the bastard PA had sent in some security guards to watch backstage, Moxxie's entourage, including herself, were free to enjoy the show.

The original members of said entourage quickly fell back into what Millie assumed was their old routine.

Miyo was fiddling with his phone, occasionally taking pictures of the venue and Moxxie's performance.

Chaz was flirting and name-dropping with a bored looking succubus.

And Devitre was chatting with the bartender, who looked like he was quickly running out of vodka to serve.

This left the members of IMP to their own devices, and they seemed to unilaterally decide to just enjoy the show.

Blitzø was having a blast, bobbing to the music and gleefully elbowing other demons in the crowd.

Loona was oddly silent. Her eyes were wide, focused straight ahead towards the stage, looking almost enraptured.

“Must still be in shock from the reveal.” Millie decided silently.

Her musings were only broken by her boss’s obnoxious proclamation.

Millie huffed.

“I know his “real self” Blitzø, I married him! And you know him too!”

The lanky imp scoffed.

“Yeah, but not his Cool Real Self! I mean, a Mafia family-born, crazy-rich, bad boy rockstar? Those are three of the coolest things! He's three of the coolest things, all wrapped up into one!”

Some of the demons in the audience whooped in agreement at the former circus clown’s proclamation.

Loona even briefly broke her gaze to voice her opinion.

“He's kind of got a point…I mean, I get hiding some of it, he was running away. But still, this is some pretty impressive sh*t to just never tell anyone about.”

The shorter female rolled her eyes.

“Mox doesn't like this version of himself. He told me that he stopped identifying with any of this a long time ago.”

Millie paused before a mischievous thought crossed her mind.

“How would either of you two like it if everyone only ever saw ya as some phase ya went through?”

That shut them both up, Blitzø’s eyes shrinking to pinpricks and his adopted daughter looking away sheepishly.

The Wrathian smirked triumphantly.

“That's what Ah thought.”

Their odd little discussion was broken by a familiar feminine tone.

“Scootch over, plebs, I need to order some bottle service.”

Blitzø dropped his abashed expression in favor of glaring at the newcomer.

“Look at that guys, this place’s mascot has decided to grace us with her whorish presence!”

Verosika Mayday scowled at her ex.

“Ugh…how'd you afford the cover charge?”

Blitzø growled lowly as Loona tried to turn invisible via sheer willpower.

Millie, however, was distracted by the popstar’s conversation with the bartender.

“What do you mean he's already got bottle service covered?”

The pit viper Hellborn manning the liquor shrugged.

“His manager called ahead and set it up. Refreshments for his crew, too.”

The gorgeous succubus let an unpleasant expression mar her features, but only for a moment.

“Know what? It's fine. Marcel will probably be eager to talk to me anyway.”

That caught Millie off guard. She let the shock steal her voice for a moment, though a certain imp had no such issues.

“Um, what the f*ck did you just say?” Blitzø grit out at the pink demon.

She just turned up her nose and adopted a haughty tone.

“Oh, jealous, limp-dick? I'm going to be working on a project with an A-lister, some who's actually on my level.”

The scarred imp snickered.

“First off, gutter slu*t, a f*cking flea circus is above your level! Second, don't think I'd let you anywhere near Mo - Marcel.”

“Really? What gives you the right to stop me?”

Blitzø leaned up towards his ex.

“Who the f*ck do you think we came here with? We're all in his entourage! Inner circle, bitch!”

Verosika blinked in surprise.

Then promptly laughed her ass off.

“As if! Why would Knessuno ever slum it with a bunch of nobodies like you?!”

A new voice chimed in through the chaos of the venue.

“Hey! He's been slumming it with a bunch of nobodies like them since before he was Knessuno!”

Chaz had inserted himself into the conversation, having either struck out or given up on the demon he was chatting with earlier.

The pop star just rolled her eyes.

“Oh right…his “entourage”. Look; I don't have time for hangers-on. I need to go discuss a collab with my colleague.”

She promptly shoved through them and headed back into the fray.

The lanky loan shark growled before yelling out towards her general direction.

“Hey! Just because you're very sexually intimidating doesn't mean you won this conversation!”

During this time, Miyo and Devitre had finished up and joined them, Devitre carrying an assortment of snacks and what looked like a fancy bottle of liquor chilling in an ice bucket.

The lilim took in the scene briefly before turning to Millie.

“What did he f*ck up and how bad?”

Chaz just huffed indignantly.

“Hey, I didn't f*ck up sh*t! I stepped in to keep sh*t from getting f*cked up!”

The Wrathian nodded.

“Yeah, it probably would have gotten out of hand if he hadn't interrupted. It was just…someone Blitzø has history with.”

The purple demon nodded before addressing the whole group.

“Marcel is almost done with his set. Backstage is nasty, but lucky us, the secret shows are just to spread hype anyway. Avarice called ahead and set us up with a VIP booth.”

Blitzø whistled from the bar.

“Ooh, fancy! Is there a velvet rope so I can feel superior to everyone else here before I get drunk?”

Miyo rolled his eyes but nodded in affirmative.

Up on stage, Moxxie was pumping up the crowd below for his last track of the night.

“Alright, let's slow things down for a minute. This one goes out to all our brothers and sisters in arms in the audience!”

“For everyone who grew up not knowing if tomorrow you'd get your final reward! For all my fellow soldiers who lost someone to a fight they didn't believe in!”

“A ballad for everyone we ever knew who found the end of their story in a hollow grave!”

“This is ‘The Light Behind your Eyes’!”

And he began strumming in those first mournful cords.

Loona, who had tried to keep her cool with some success throughout most of the show, caught her breath hitching.

This was one of her favorite songs from Marcel Knessuno, and the knowledge that he and Moxxie were one in the same did nothing to change the songs’ effect on her.

She could feel the low, slow strums reverberating in her chest, the smooth and sad inflection behind the lyrics caused her heart to squeeze.

“If I could be with you tonight

I would sing you to sleep

Never let them take the light behind your eyes

One day, I'll lose this fight

As we fade in the dark

Just remember you will always burn as bright”

Growing up in the shelter system, watching everyone else either get adopted or age out had drained her in a way she thought no one could ever really understand.

But then, just by chance, she heard Marcel Knessuno on the radio, and everything seemed to change.

It was still lonely and depressing, sure, but things also seemed…brighter, in places.

Like there were other demons out there who understood what she had been through.

That was what had drawn her to the rockstar, what had captivated her young and cynical heart.

It was a hard feeling to shake, even now as Millie was literally shaking her shoulder and calling her name.

“Loona? Loona!”

As if waking up from a deep sleep, Loona rubbed her eyes and looked down at the imp, trying to muster up her usual brand of hostility.

“What?” She snapped, but of course Millie didn't flinch or snap back.

“Moxxie's set is done, come on. We're meeting him in the VIP set up.”

The taller demon nodded and let herself follow the Wrathian to the booth sitting on a slightly elevated pleath.

Blitzø and the rest were already there, her technically-dad already drinking straight from the bottle of something too fancy for her to recognize.

The buzzing of the club crowd was still cacophonously loud, but her ears still pricked towards the stage as “Marcel” made his exit.

“Thanks for comin’ out, folks, but let's be real; none of you had anything better to do anyway!”

The crowd laughed and whooped as the ex-mafioso continued.

“Seriously though, feels good to be home. This world gets pretty crazy, but never let them take you without a fight!

“Keep your eyes up, your gun loaded, die laughing if you get the chance, and never forget;”

“You're all in the family now!”

At this the crowd screamed and cheered at the imp retreating through the curtain into the backstage.

While Loona tried to contain the throbbing in her heart, she came up to the VIP booth.

A big buff demon in a clown mask whose race, age and gender weren't immediately discernible looked her and Millie over briefly before checking his clipboard and letting them through.

The beady eyes peering from the cut-out holes gave her the chills, but she did her best to ignore it.

Which was fairly easy with the commotion coming through the crowd towards them.

The noise of the crowd began settling into a quieter din as the clubbing demons cleared a path for their Ring's most notable non-clown performer.

Seeing him off-stage right after his performance felt surreal in a way.

On stage, he seemed so tall and untouchable, but now he was back on the ground and his original height, less than a foot from his fans who gaped at his presence.

Still, the spell wasn't completely broken.

Despite being close enough to reach out and grab him, none of the club's clientele would dare.

But that was probably less to do with some sort of undefinable mystic than the two hulking, clown-mask wearing demons flanking the freckled imp, both almost identical to the VIP guard.

They passed their charge onto the bouncer, who gave them a curt nod before they turned back, elbowing their way through the crowd and back to backstage.

Moxxie had come straight from the stage to the VIP booth. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was slightly slick with sweat, but he still smiled sheepishly towards his guests.

“Thanks for coming along. I know that this whole situation is…a lot, but it's nice to still have you all in my corner.”

Blitzø smiled as he poured himself a glass of something that looked expensive and smelled like jet fuel.

“Hey, any time I can do you a favor that results in me getting free access to a concert in a club I couldn't afford otherwise with free bottle service, I'm glad to do it.”

The scarred imp took a sip of his drink and paused before shooting the ex-mafioso a smirk.

“You owe me though!”

The shorter imp rolled his eyes, but kept smiling. Then turned towards Loona.

“What did you think of the show?”

sh*t! She didn't think he'd just up and ask her! f*ck, should she have come up with something?!

Saying something sarcastic or scathing should be second nature to her, especially in regards to Moxxie, but the hound found herself completely tongue-tied.

He was still wearing the mask, but she could imagine his gaze beneath it.

Those big, pleading eyes looking up at her in an earnest expression of curiosity.

“Maybe…maybe I'll be a little honest.” The gothic demon thought silently.

“Just this once.”

But before she could open her muzzle to speak, Millie piped up.

“Ya did great, sweetie!”

It was then that Loona remembered that the Greedian rockstar’s wife was sitting right in front of her.

Moxxie's question was directed at her.

Because she is his wife.

Not some gruff and snippy hellhound who never had anything nice to say to him and constantly went out of her way to bully him.

It made a lot more sense that he would want to know about Millie’s opinion. She's the demon he shares his life with, the one who sees him as he is.

Still, the taller demon was having a hard time ignoring the sudden deflating feeling in her heart.

Unaware of her coworker’s melancholy, the Wrathian went on.

“It was amazing seein’ you perform yer old songs! But…it's a bit weird. The way you act on stage is…. really different.”

Blitzø belched and chimed in his unsolicited opinion.

“Yeah, it's super cool!”

Ignoring his boss/friend's sudden injection, Moxxie just scratched his head, sheepishly avoiding his wife's gaze for a moment.

“Yeah…I wasn't thrilled about it at first either. It was Mr. Avarice's idea. Everyone expects a certain something from a legitimate legacy gangster, sooo…”

Millie huffed, but nodded in understanding. Of course it was that bougie bastard’s idea!

The freckled imp smiled softly and continued.

“It's not that big of a deal. It's kind of fun, pretending to be someone else.”

Miyo scoffed as he looked up from his screen.

“Good thing that “someone else” is based on Greedian mobsters. If you had to play a character you didn't spend most of your life around, you'd probably go way overboard.”

The musician shot his friend a look, but most of the demons present just chuckled and agreed.

Luckily, Moxxie ended up just smiling and laughing along, any indignant energy having been burnt off on stage.

“Hey, I wanted to do Drama in highschool, but my dad threatened to lock me in my room until my 20th birthday if I ever brought it up again!”

More laughs.

The mood was good. Light and jovial despite how the day had soured earlier. Jokes, expensive liquor, and cheap junk food with friends both new and old.

There were worse ways to spend the night, especially in Hell.

Then, the buzz of the crowd around them suddenly began to spike again.

The club goers began to disperse again and a familiar, statuesque figure stepped into view.

Standing tall in spiked heels and hot pants, was Verosika Mayday, her expression sour on her otherwise beautiful face. She glared down at her impish ex.

“Huh. Guess you managed to glom on to yet another unfortunate A-lister, huh Blitz-O?”

The ex-carny hissed at the taller demon and her crew.

“Need something, slu*t? Because I'm sorry to tell you, but none of us have antibiotic cream.”

The pop star sneered, but didn't reply. Instead, she focused her gaze on the demon who had usurped her stage time.

Smiling wryly as she made an effort to pose and posture as alluringly as possible, she leaned down to his level, showing off a fair bit of cleavage from under her black camisole.

“You know, I'm a big fan of your work ~...I wish someone had let me know you were doing a set tonight. I would have loved a chance to work with you personally. ”

The innuendo was mild, but the insinuation and intention were obvious. Millie was vibrating slightly with fury just behind him, but the musical imp kept his cool.

Marcel Knessuno was no stranger to other performers trying to use him for the type of infamy and street cred only he could provide.

He gave the succubus a roguish smirk as he turned to address her directly.

“Hmmm…funny, Miss Mayday, I wouldn't guess that you were into my type of music.”

Not to be deterred, she smirked back.

“Oh, I think you'll find that I'm into all types… of music, that is.”

She leaned forward and placed her hand lightly on his shoulder, so close that Millie could smell her perfume.

“I hear you're starting a come-back tour, is that right? You know, it's been a minute since you've been center stage ~

Things have changed a lot these last few years, but lucky you, I know the lay of the land.”

The freckled demon chuckled.

“You sound like a real professional, Miss Mayday.”

“Call me Verosika.”

The succubus stepped forward, but the giant in the clown mask stopped her. However, he let his arm drop to let her through when Moxxie gave him a look.

The succubus smiled in appreciation and moved to sit next to her fellow performer, much to the barely contained fury of both her ex and his wife.

“Two big names like ours will make a big splash! Any thoughts?”

The shorter demon tapped his chin as if thinking it over, only to flippantly wave her off.

“Sorry, Miss Mayday, but I think I have enough splash of my own. Besides, I'm not in charge of the publicity for the tour. My old manager is handling that.”

The statuesque demon made a face briefly before turning the charm back on.

“Well, I'm sure you could put in a good word for me -”

But she was cut off by Moxxie's chuckling. She frowned in earnest now.

“What’s so funny?”

The rockstar smiled up at her.

“Nothing, just the irony of you asking me to get a message to my boss.”

With that cold statement, he snapped his fingers and the bulky clown guards began to crowd her and her crew away from the VIP area.

The scantily clad Lust demons protested loudly, but only one managed to get past the harlequin heavies.

Millie recognized him from the Spring Break challenge, a tall incubus with a goatee and a playing card spade tattooed on his neck.

What was unfamiliar was the look of nervous excitement in his eyes.

“Um, hi. It's so amazing to meet you in person! I'm such a big fan! I was there at your “You Know What They Do to Guys Like Me in Prison” tour, and I saw the premiere of that one tract, “Death for the Family” and…and I’m rambling like a total creep, I am so sorry.”

For someone who worked for a major celebrity themselves, the poor guy was all over the place.

Unlike when dealing with Verosika, though, Moxxie gave him a genuine chuckle and smile.

“Don't worry about it, if anything, it's flattering to see a cool demon like you so invested in my work. You really know your stuff.”

The Lust denizen’s face lit up with a blush that genuinely surprised the rest of the pop star's crew.

Normally, it took more than an earnest compliment to fluster a purebred incubus, something that was a testament to Ace’s admiration.

For most Lust Ring residents, this would have been a massive humiliation, but the impish rockstar didn't point it out as he might have with Verosika.

“I'm guessing you didn't risk a savage public maiming just for this, though …want an autograph?”

Rendered silent by his star-struck shock, Ace just nodded, a goofy smile plastered on his face.

Moxxie smirked and pulled out a pen, artfully decorating a co*cktail napkin with his signature.

“So what's your name, Big Guy?”

Shaking his head to break his own self-imposed trance, the incubus blurted out.

“It's Ace, but you can call me”Big Guy” if you want!”

To his credit, Moxxie just gave the taller demon a good natured smirk before passing him the napkin.

“Have good night, Acer. Oh, and by the way, nice ink.”

Wordlessly, and without breaking his gaze from his Greedian idol, Ace touched a hand to the spade on his neck before smiling dreamily.

The happy expression wasn't even slightly dampened when the massive clown guard took him roughly by the arm to drag him back to rejoin his boss and her crew.

The rest of IMP was a bit shocked, but Moxxie's old Greedian friends just laughed it off.

“Classic Knessuno hot and cold.” Devitre smirked.

Chaz snickered before throwing an arm around his long lost best friend and scruffling his already messy hair.

“That's our Mox! He may be settled down and living the honest life, but he's still a heartbreaker inside!”

The rockstar rolled his eyes.

“What are you all on about? It was a fellow performer and a fan. They weren't flirting, they both just wanted something.”

The lanky loan shark smiled cheekily.

“Yeah, if by “something”, you mean your dick in their mouths.”

The shorter demon gave the shark a flick to the nose, hard enough to make him back off.

“Miyo, set them straight.”

The purple demon just rolled his eyes.

“As much as the very concept defies all known laws of the universe, Chaz is actually right on this. They were both flirting! Granted, only the greaser was doing legitimately, but still.”

The freckled Hellborn shook his head before turning towards his wife and coworkers.

“They weren't flirting!.....right?”

Blitzø shook his head as he reached for a plate tries smothered in melted cheese and hot sauce.

“No, I've seen that walking cathouse try to fill her co*ck-coozie before. She was definitely trying to fella*te her way into your good book.”

Millie smirked and petted her husband's shoulder.

“Yer a cutie on a normal day Mox, but decked out like this and famous to boot? ‘Course yer gonna catch some eyes.”

That made the freckled imp blush and smile warmly towards his other half.

No matter how much time passed, she could always fluster him.

“So could he.” A dark voice whispered from the corner of his mind.

“Never even had to try. Just a smile and a brush of the hand and you were stuck.”

That was something he had been trying to avoid thinking about, but it was true.

Felix Avarice, like most other Greedians who lived long enough to turn a profit, was relentlessly charming.

It always felt like he knew just what to say, what to do, how to act to keep his young paramore hooked.

That is, until Moxxie couldn't find the strength to look past the dirt on the looking glass anymore.

“I went through a lot of trouble to get you this present…do you really not like it?”

“Meal Ticket!”

His boss's brash voice broke the impish sniper out of the dark spiral in his mind.

The taller imp just huffed when Moxxie finally made eye contact.

“About time! I must've called your name, what, like two times and you just ignored me!”

“...twice isn't even that many times to call someone.”

“You did your show, you met your fans, you embarrassed my bitch ex…so are we done here?”

“And were you calling my actual name, or did you just yell out “Meal Ticket” two times?”

“Because as fun as free booze and food is, I was hoping for some actual crazy. Like the stuff you got into before.”

“You weren't even calling my actual name. How was I supposed to know you were talking to me?”

Chaz interrupted as he was prone to do, addressing Blitzø as he reached across the table to snag a bottle of Day-Glo colored liquor.

“Sorry Stretch, but a lot of our misbehavior was planned ahead of time back in the day. Unless Young Hannibal Lector gave us a script, our party is staying pretty tame.”

The ex-carny pouted.

“Seriously?”

Miyo nodded as he pilfered a handful of greasy cheese fries from Blitzø's plate.

“Seriously. Misbehavior is a great way to get attention, especially if you have Knessuno’s rep. But our dear benefactor Mr. Avarice didn't trust us to keep his precious Lucky Coin safe in a real situation.”

The demon gamer shot his impish friend a smirk and the former simply rolled his eyes.

“It's true …a lot of those crazy incidents were just Avarice trying to get more publicity for my music”

Blitzø huffed and slumped back in his chair.

“f*cking Christ, Mox! You even had to go and make the coolest thing about you boring!”

Looking up from the strange bubbling concoction he had been mixing, Chaz snorted.

“There wasn't anything boring about it! I mean, it was staged to be safe and legal, but we still took a police boat for a joyride.”

Besides him, Devitre nodded, a faint boozy blush visible under his thick fur.

“And play game of Road Chicken with limos.”

Miyo chuckled at the memory.

“And swiped the chief of police 's cell phone and used it to call his mom in front of all his lieutenants!”

The quartet of Greedians broke into a roaring fit of laughter that was lost on the newer additions.

Moxxie was the first to settle down, catching his breath as he looked over to taller imp.

“It definitely wasn't boring. Besides, even if most of it was set up before the fact, we still got into unscripted trouble.”

This perked Blitzø right up.

“Examples…?”

The rockstar rolled his eyes but smiled.

“Well - “

“Would you look at that? The little pedigree has finally come home to his daddy.”

The voice that cut in was gruff with a heavy Notamafia accent.

The members of IMP looked towards the direction of the newcomer, but Moxxie and his old crew were already scowling.

The impish musician gave a low snarl before addressing the interloper, a taller imp with a bridge scar on his face and a dark brocade suit.

“Grip…good to see you managed to scrape together enough to cover the entrance fee.”

“Hope the bouncer didn't make you count out all those coins by yourself, I know you're no good at math.”

The sudden sass resulted in honks of laughter, both from the general audience and from the shorter imp’s own table, despite almost half not knowing who this guy was.

He was banked on both sides himself by a couple of tough looking loan sharks, but at Moxxie's quip, he visibly balked and took a step back before recomposing himself.

“You gotta lot of nerve just popping back in like you own this place - “

“Thought about it…but then you walked in and tanked the resale value.”

More laughter at Grip’s expense.

The taller imp growled as his sharks glowered at the musician.

“You little…don't you dare think you can get away with talking to me like that! Last I heard, your bark hasn't got any bite behind it anymore.”

“…Not since you stopped letting that overpaid PA go to town on you, Doll Face.”

Moxxie let out a soft, nonchalant hum as he tapped a claw on his drink glass.

“Maybe you're right…that being said, you really willing to risk the loss on that bet?”

The massive clown guards picked up on their charge’s tone and began to step towards the other Greedian.

To his credit, Grip only let the panic in his eyes show for a second before calming down and clicking his tongue.

“Tch. Whatever. This dumb fake bullsh*t isn't worth my time anyway.”

He turned to leave, signaling with one hand for his guys to follow him, when Blitzø decided to let his opinion be known.

“Who the f*ck was that? Some loser from highschool who's jealous you made it?”

The imp in the fancy suit let a smile overtake his features as he turned back around to address his rival's friend.

“Naw, I'm not jealous…Marcy earned his place. No one else from our hometown had the patience to suck dick until they got a record deal. Or the lack of gag reflex.”

Millie could feel her claws cutting into the flesh of her palms.

She could tell this guy had some bad blood with her husband and she wasn't about to let some nobody get away with it!

She may not be able to lay a hand on Avarice, but beating this f*cker to a bloody pulp was gonna be a great way to relieve some stress

The cruel words, the bullying tone, the slimy implications…it reignited her forgotten rage.

But just as she moved to attack Moxxie's heckler, she was shocked into stillness.

…By Moxxie, who had already gotten up from his seat and made his way past the clown guards and towards his rival.

And for a moment, Millie was lost in her confusion.

He was just so…. unfamiliar like this. It didn't disturb her or even upset her that much really. He was still her husband, her Moxxie.

A change of clothes and some stage attitude didn't change that. Still, not having seen this side of him until now felt…wrong.

Like it was yet another secret she hadn't been privy to until now.

Of course, that was put on the back burner as she went into hyper-vigilant mode to watch the confrontation.

The sharks at the other imp's side looked shocked, but Grip just smiled at his fellow Greedian.

“Ah, hit a nerve, did I?”

But Moxxie did reply with any sassy comeback this time.

Instead, he smiled warmly at the demon, pulled a small fold of bills from his own pocket, and slid it into the taller demon’s shirt pocket, patting it for good measure.

“Thanks for coming out to see the show, Grip. Means a lot that I can put on these little concerts and familiar faces from back home will still stop by.”

He then gave the taller imp a good-natured pat on the back.

Grip looked like he wanted to say something, then just chuckled before he made his closing remarks.

“f*ckin' figures that you're only back because you've been domesticated…for as wild and free as you ever actually were before.”

And with that, he and his guards disappeared into the crowd just as the musician of the evening rejoined his crew.

Blitzø, in particular, was making no secret of how disappointing he found the encounter to be.

“Seriously, Moxxie? Just when I think you're gonna surprise us with some cool badass street sh*t you learned growing up, you just pay that f*cker to leave?”

Miyo gave his old friend a curious look.

“Yeah, I've got to admit, Mox. Seems a bit out of character for you to just let Grip walk like that. You haven't actually gone soft on us, right?”

The resident loan shark huffed in approval.

“Knock off Sailor Moon has a point man. I mean, even if a lot of it was staged, you've got a public image to worry about.”

“And that takes a certain amount of actual cool to maintain. If you've dropped below a certain level in baseline coolness, then - “

Moxxie interrupted him by pulling a set of jangling keys out of nowhere, the most notable one being a fob for some fancy brand of car Millie vaguely recognized.

Everyone, including his old crew, were temporarily shocked into silence.

Silence that Chaz broke with a broad smile.

“Ok, nevermind, you're cooler than ever.”

The Greedians all chuckled before Moxxie sent the giant clowns to “check the front door”.

After they lumbered off towards the front of the club, the former mafioso began to guide his entourage towards the back exit behind the stage.

Following close behind but unable to keep quiet anymore, the farm raised imp finally asked the newest question weighing on her mind.

“What exactly are we doing now?”

Her husband looked back at her. His smile was happy and familiar, but there was something uncomfortable about the way the green lenses of his domino mask flashed in the low light.

“Remember those “ unscripted ” adventures I mentioned? Well, we're about to write a new one.”

And despite herself, her heart skipped a beat.