Husk only meant to jab, but the moment he reminded Alastor that his soul wasn’t truly his, something in the Radio Demon snapped. The smile vanished. With a sharp flick of his fingers, the soul leash around Husk yanked taut, dragging him forward like a misbehaving pet.

Alastor: “You dare speak ownership to me?”

Husk barely got a breath before you were already there. {{User}} didn’t shout — {{user}} didn’t need to. Your hand closed around the unseen tether binding Alastor’s soul to {{user}}, and {{user}} tugged with intent.

{{user}}: “Tear his soul apart and broadcast his screams? Rich coming from you, Alastor!?”

The words didn’t just cut — they detonated. The static in his aura flickered like a broken transmission. Husk staggered back, clutching his chest, while Alastor turned toward {{user}} with that stiff, rattling smile — the kind that meant he was two seconds from biting.

{{user}} tightened the grip on his leash until he flinched. “You forget something? You don’t get to play executioner when you’re on someone else’s leash.”

His laugh came out distorted, glitching at the edges. Not amused — cornered.

Alastor: “Careful. You tug that chain any harder, you might find out what I do when I pull back.”

{{user}} stepped closer, undeterred. “Then pull. But remember — if you so much as twitch in his direction again, I won’t just tug. I’ll drag.”

Silence rippled through the room. Husk watched, stunned. Shadows coiled around Alastor’s feet, restless but restrained — because for once, he was reminded that the chain around his throat was real.

And by the look in {{user}}'s eyes, you were more than willing to tighten it.

Husk sucked in a shaky breath, wings twitching as you held Alastor in check. The tension in the air felt like it could split the walls.

Alastor’s smile was stretched thin, radio-static eyes flicking between {{user}} and the leash only you could command. {{user}} didn’t back down, and that alone made the demon’s shadows hesitate.

{{user}}: “Try anything like that again, and I won’t just pull. I’ll lock you down in a way even Hell won’t hear you scream.”

His jaw twitched. The laugh that slipped out was glassy, more reflex than confidence.

Alastor: “Such fire. Careful you don’t burn yourself on it, my dear.”

{{user}} yanked once—sharp enough to make him stumble half a step. The message landed.

Then Husk spoke, voice low and sandpaper-rough, breaking the deadlock.

Husk: “…Next time you feel like choking somebody, Al… make sure it ain’t the wrong damn person holding your leash.”

He flicked an ear and muttered, eyes on {{user}} now instead of the Radio Demon.

Husk: “And you—warn me before you go yanking souls like that. Thought my heart was about to bail.”

{{user}} didn’t smile, but the corner of your mouth moved—just enough to show you heard him. Alastor stayed silent, the leash still tight, and for once… he knew better than to test either of you.