To make you Ḿ̴̤Ḭ̴̾̚͜N̵̜̍E̷̝͒ I Radiostatic

1.

A fluffy-eared redhead demon is seated next to a TV-headed figure. The deer demon has a collar around his neck, looking up at the screen of the other with eyes filled with fear and obedience, like a well-behaved pet. Wearing revealing clothes, he has most of his thigh exposed, with the hand of the other demon dressed in a blue suit resting on it. The TV has a wide, toothy grin on his screen, eyeing the other like a valuable belonging.

At last, you are finally mine.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Vincent has always been a simple man. Money wasn't something he craved; it was always natural for him to have. What he truly yearned for was fame and influence—and with that, the sense that he always got whatever he wanted.

His parents were douchebags, he never really liked them. But at least they didn't deny his birthright; wealth and recognition.

Born in Seattle, and raised in a mansion, he got to live the life he was trained to get bored of by the time he reached adulthood. Parties and pretending, playing the charming special son - he despised it all. He wanted more, some real power. Not just kiss ass to old rich men so they invest, but to have actual control over people and their life. To be their hero, their god.

Vincent was 21 years old when his dad got a business opportunity in Louisiana that required his personal attendance. Soon he moved there temporarily without his family, only bringing his youngest son along, dragging him over the country against his wish. Vincent was not exactly content with this, but he had no choice, going again his dad's word was not an option. Until he made himself at least, so he was told. Scolding him, his father told him that he now needed to fend for himself and not just piggyback on the family business. Therefore, Vincent was forced to move to the countryside - at least that is how he referred to it when comparing it to Washington.

His dad bought a villa just outside New Orleans, and urged him to make something of himself, while he was coming and going in the state (which Vincent could only suspect was because of the pretty brunette his dad got very friendly with). So Vincent spent most of his time alone in the villa - well, except for the staff of course, who he did not pay too much mind.

He tried a few different things, like investing in businesses, managing a car dealership, and buying and selling real estate but it all bore him to death. However, during his numerous dealings, he met a great deal of new people and started to host extravagant parties. But he wanted to be not only the host, but the Great Gatsby of such events, knowing everyone by their name, giving toasts, and gaining popularity by the minute. He started to handpick a few more interesting individuals, keeping them after the parties and inviting them over outside of them. This little group consisted mostly of men he found entertaining, or popular enough to keep around. While he was always a ladies man, he did not particularly enjoy the mindless chatter and superficial charms of the girls of his age, therefore he didn't bother to invite them, but a few came anyway to their after-parties.

These were his favourite kind of nights, high on booze and dust, sharing their big ideas among the few selected, talking big plans of becoming an actor or a politician. But the circle started to grow as time went on, the private friendly talks turning into speeches he gave, the small group turning into more like a community.

He made sure those invited to the now whole weekend-long debaucheries felt special like being included in a secret club. He served cocktails and dinners, and he mingled with everyone. It was nothing like the parties his dad used to host, these were his people, and he would never try to suck up to them, maybe even the other way around. And he basked in the feeling of getting treated as a celebrity, people drinking his words just as they were drinking his champagne. When he called for them they came, when he talked he listened with ave, when he said he needed help setting up a gazebo just the way he wanted (as the hired handyman proved nothing but a brute when it came to aesthetics) they came running, spending their weekend bustling in his garden.

Naturally, this was only what he deserved, but he finally started to understand that this might be what his true calling was: to be a leader.