#static city universe

[piney-45]

i spent so much time trying to find the charlie to my nick

when i should have been looking for the francis to my aled

[starryoak]

One thing I was thinking about is how in the DC Animated Universe, Wally West is heavily implied to have been the first Flash, with Barry Allen having no powers and the Flash having gotten his powers in a similar way to him, but we also see a Kid Flash costume as a cameo in “Flash and Substance”

One thing I was considering to reconcile this cameo that raises questions in an interesting way; Wally was the Kid Flash, he just wasn’t a sidekick. He was a teen superhero, essentially the equivalent to Spider-Man that the DC universe doesn’t really have.

He just eventually grew out of the name and costume and reinvented himself, and to me it feels like it would be an interesting thing to connect with how the citizens of Central City seem to love Flash so much and spend so much time with him; of course they love him! They’ve seen him grow up and into himself as a hero! It also gives his younger self a time to shine in universe, and an interesting story about being a teenage superhero that Static Shock and Batman Beyond also explored, though in different contexts. Plus, who doesn’t fucking love Wally and want more of him?

[podcaststatic]

It’s been a long time since you’ve heard from me. I do apologise for the radio silence.

[ghoulphile]

wish you'd make me cry | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 2.3k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; rough, dom!cooper, frottage, sitting missionary, dirty talk, degradation kink, pet names, teasing, dacryphilia, bareback, drug/chem use (jet), shotgunning, high sex ➥ summary | "You’re such a needy fucking brat." :3c ➥ notes | drabble (that's no longer a drabble lol) request for @tearueful, thank you bby!! this one really got away from me... i had to stop myself from writing lol. un-beta'd atm. masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️

Setting up camp for the night in an abandoned warehouse, you and Cooper wait out a radstorm that blows in off the horizon. Because while he loves sitting outside with a smoke, soaking in the rads until he’s buzzing with frenetic energy, you don’t feel like hunting down RadAway tomorrow.

It’s quiet apart from the distant sound of super mutants and ferals roaming the city, the sporadic roar of thunder, and rain tinging off the sheet metal roof. There’s still hours left until daylight, and it doesn’t seem like the volatile weather will break soon.

Unfortunately, you’ve read all the Grognak comics you could get your grubby hands on three times over, and there’s not much else to pass the time besides scuff your boot along the concrete floor, and pluck at a stray thread hanging off your tattered sleeping bag.

Meanwhile, Cooper lounges on his side, unbothered. His hand - bare for once - props up his head, the unscarred skin of a commandeered digit stark against angry rad burns and ropey scars. Between the knuckles of his other hand, he rolls a vial of chem over and over in a mesmerizing flick of deft fingers.

A lantern sputters between you as the old battery struggles to keep it lit. Its jaundiced glow banishes the thick darkness; a fuzzy halo of light that elongates shadows and deepens the cuts of his face.

You kiss your teeth, and say, “Hey, you got any more Jet?”

Lazy eyes slide towards you. A hairless brow quirks. “And if I did,” he asks, the vial pausing between his fingers, “why you wanna know?”

“Dunno, I’m bored… wanna get high?”

“Well, shit,” he whistles, bares his teeth. A low, crackling laugh rumbles from his chest. “Why the fuck didn’t you ask sooner.”

You shrug and crack a knuckle.

To be honest, the idea hadn’t occurred to you at first. Now that it has, anticipation curls low in your belly. Not only has it been a long, long time since you last got high (the sensation a hazy, half-remembered dream of fuzzy warmth and whirling thoughts), you know Cooper always carries a top-notch stash.

The little chem fiend, you think fondly.

���So,” you prompt. “Wanna get high together or what?”

“Sure as shit, darlin’. Let’s party.”

He settles against the pockmarked wall beside you with a soft grunt, the grit of concrete digging into his back. Thigh to thigh, his body is a rad warm line of heat. A bloom of suffocating heat in the otherwise biting chill of a wasteland night. Gunpowder and smoke tickle your nose when he leans over to rifle through his bag, leather creaking.

Muted, mellow; everything fades into a silent companionship as you pass the red inhaler between you. With every puff, whorls of smoke curl from your mouths until a murky gray cloud hovers in the air; defining the edges of your crafted universe.

The acrid vapor of chem burns its way through your lungs and into your bloodstream. A bitter taste coats your fattened tongue, lips tingling as your palm smothers little coughs. A flood of static rushes down your nerve endings, sends your head spinning.

As your vision blurs, the tension leeches from rounded shoulders with a bone weary sigh. And with every slow clicking blink, colors spark to life in a distorted kaleidoscope. Head lolling to the side, you watch through heavy eyes as Cooper rattles the inhaler and takes a shallow hit.

When he exhales, little tendrils of smoke caress the plains of his cheek. Dance along the hollow nasal ridge. “Almost out.” He grunts, your fingers brushing when he passes the cartridge back. “Go on, now. Finish it.”

The kind gesture (for him) touches you.

Then a faraway thought flutters.

Snags - settles into a nebulous desire.

And before you can second guess yourself, a rumble of thunder shakes the building. Wipes away the last of your common sense, and reservations. After all, why not? He was nice enough to share. You can too.

To his credit, Cooper doesn’t startle when you slink into his lap - not that you expect him to, even without being chem-addled. He tracks your movements from beneath a heavy brow bone, the dark Nuka Cola of his eyes glittering like shattered glass in the wane light.

“Heh, this that kinda party then, darlin’?” he asks once you settle, your thighs draped over his hips and your ass flush with his crotch. “‘Cuz you’ll be wanting ta extricate yourself if it ain’t.”

—Before I do it for you.

Humming, you dip forward until your breasts brush over the wide expanse of his chest. Interest flickers to life behind your navel; cinders cracking and popping along your spine. While you’d never considered Cooper a sexual availability beforehand (what with his never-ending search for family), the laden weight of his gaze as it pauses on your chin before dropping lower sings through your blood.

Kickstarts your heart into a galloping stutter that thuds against your ribcage as longing hooks behind your navel, tugs sudden and sharp. The world spins.

Maybe, you think, peering at him from beneath the fan of your lashes. Maybe…

“Pervert,” you murmur, biting down on a small smile.

The knife-sharp smirk falls from his lips faster than a comedown from Psycho when your fingertips ghost over the curve of his jaw, turning his head towards you. Like this, you share breath, the scant space between you thrumming with energy.

So close you can see flecks of gold in the amber whiskey of his eyes.

Your forehead brushes over his; the rough drag of gnarled skin sending a shiver through your limbs. “Let’s share the last hit. S’only fair.”

Pausing, he considers you for several long moments.

His gaze bounces from yours to the playful curve of your mouth and back. A small eternity passes like this. And then - when you’re about to crawl away to lick your wounded pride - the most imperceptible of nods grants his assent.

There’s a hiss of aerosol, a lung burning inhale, and then you’re exhaling into the open gash of his mouth.

Wisps of smoke dance off your tongue onto his, the bow of your lips glancing off the swell of his top lip as you squirm closer. You feed him chem in a slow, steady stream until all the air has left you.

He groans - a wounded, low-throated sound.

Your eyes flutter open to find him already staring, his iris a thin ring around the Blackhole of his wide blown pupils. Hooded, hungry: a caged predator. You lick your lips, and in doing so, flick your tongue over his.

Your stomach swoops, “I --”

“You’re such a needy fuckin’ brat, y’know that, sweetheart?”

Whether it was an apology or some other retort stuck to the back of your teeth like hard candy, you’ll never know because in the next moment a rough hand knocks the Jet out of your hand. The inhaler cracks against the concrete with a plastic smack before skidding off into the darkness.

A burning palm curls around your wrist, calloused fingers digging into your fluttering pulse point. “Hey — hngg!”

He yanks you close, and you taste the violence in his kiss.

Harsh lips map out the softness of yours as teeth pinch and roll until your mouth is a swollen mess of tender flesh and smeared spit. Keeping up with the frenzied scrape of his tongue and the deep pulls of his kisses is like trying to weather a hurricane or fight off a Yao Guai with a single bullet.

“W-Wait,” you gasp, fingers twined through the lapels of his duster. “I don’t --”

“Shut up,” Cooper growls, worrying the swell of your bottom lip until a bead of blood bubbles to the surface. He sucks it away with a stifled moan, his hips kicking up against the plush of your ass.

“Shut the fuck up right now. You know what you was doing - trying ta act innocent when you’ve been gaggin’ for it.”

Flustered, you pull back, “No, that’s not true!”

It’s hard to keep your balance with chem pumping through your veins, and you sway to the side. The only thing keeping you upright is the bruising grip Cooper has on your wrist. “I haven’t been — you’re wr-rong.”

He spits out a mean spirited chuckle. “If that’s what you need ta tell yourself, sweetheart.” A critical eye drags down the pathetic sight you make, crumbled as you are in his lap. “But I know the truth. I felt you looking - pantin’ after me like a bitch in heat.”

“...”

Panic grips you by the throat, your pulse thundering against the thumb he strokes along the curve of your shoulder. You should’ve known better.

Of course, he’d notice.

He was The Ghoul after all - best bounty hunter from this coast to the next. It was his job to perceive everything around him, sus out friend from foe.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

What else can you say?

He brought you along (for whatever reason, fuck if you know why), and you’ve caused nothing but trouble every step of the way. It’s a wasteland miracle he hasn’t kicked your ass and left you bleeding in the dirt by now.

I have to fix this. Whatever it takes.

“I ain’t wanting you sorry.”

Gulping, you will away the sting of tears, and say, “Please, don’t kick me out.”

“Y’know, sometimes I think it’s a miracle you survived this long at all.”

“You don’t have to be so rude about it…” 

“Listen good and well, sugar,” he says with a roll of his eyes, that tender hand brushing over your neck turning into a collar as he drags you close. His lips whisper over yours with every word. “I didn’t go through all of this bullshit just ta get rid of you. Now--”

Hips rut up into you, dragging the firm line of his growing erection along the soft globes of your ass. “Stop teasin’ and make yourself useful,” he says. “Or you will be sorry.”

Everything after that flicks in and out of focus like a zoetrope: the burning clasp of hands, the slick glide of hungry mouths, the frantic rock of your hips as you both chase after dry friction with a desperation that borders on madness.

Your hands don’t know where to settle, fluttering from the nape of his neck to the breadth of his shoulders to the rippling muscle of his stomach as he rocks into you. Bites at any exposed skin that he can until his teeth leave marks you’ll carry for days.

All the while the hard edges of his body crash into your softness like waves against an eroding shore. Liquid fire blazes in your belly like a raging wildfire, scorching you from the inside out until you’re dumb and dripping.

The chem snaking through your body enhances the littlest of sensations until you feel like one giant exposed nerve. Slick drenched and sweaty, you moan weakly and rest your forehead against his cheek.

“Please,” you slur, thighs trembling where they squeeze at his live-wire hips. “S’not enough - need more. Wanna cum. Please, please, please. Make me cum.”

Cooper bites out a curse, his fingers biting into the fat of your ass. “Yeah, s’that right, sweetheart - d’you think you deserve it for bein’ such a lil brat?”

“Yes, yes, please, I’ll do anything. Just - hhahh, fuck!”

The fabric of your panties clings to your folds, and your pants chafe.

Your clit throbs with every thud of your heartbeat, every firm grind of his cock and low husk of his voice. Want him seated so deep inside you choke - your poor pussy struggling to take his cock as he rides you so hard you cry.

“Anything?” he asks with a breathless chuckle.

The devilish gleam of his eyes rattles your bones, shivers of electric anticipation fizzing through your veins like Quantum.

“Well, shit. Don’t come cryin’ ta me when you regret it. Now, take off those fucking pants and ride my cock like a good girl.”

And when he bullies his way inside, those thick ridges dragging along gummy walls, you almost swallow your tongue. He’s so big - the biggest you’ve ever had.

Every inch is a struggle, a victory. He’s not patient, he’s not kind. You don’t want it any other way, spread so wide your pussy flutters pathetically, trying to push him out.

Then the fat head grazes past the rough patch of your g-spot, sliding home to kiss your cervix. Your knees lock around his ribs, your head tossing back as a high-pitched whine punches its way out of your throat.

“A-Ah! I can’t — oh shit — you’re so,” you babble. “Too much!”

An ache spears deep, roots behind your navel.

“Heh, you asked for it, sweetheart. Look at me.” A scarred thumb wicks away a tear as you peel your eyes open with a sniffle. “That’s it. Shit, you look s’pretty when you cry.”

He licks his skin clean, uses his wet thumb to reach between you and roll the pad over your abused clit. You jump, sliding up on his shaft only for gravity to drag you back down with a solid smack of skin, your limbs jello soft.

The motion slams him deeper and slick drips from you in a sticky gush to soak his balls. You cry out, reedy thin.

Cooper grunts, warns, “You keep doing that and we’re not stoppin’ til you’re dripping cum.”

Though the thick haze of chem and syrupy sweet pleasure, you cobble together a grin and lick your way into his mouth. Tangle your tongues and suck as your hips arch into his. “Please, ruin me,” you breathe.

A possessive greed glints at you from the depths of his hangman eyes.

“Don’t go sayin’ I didn’t warn you, sweetheart,” he promises.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Monstrous Broadcast (Monster!Alastor x Reader)

CW: Post Stayed Gone Monster Al, Size kink go brr, Blood, DubCon, belly bulge, broadcasting sex, cream pies, cum painting... Rating: Adult Summary: You were sent to Alastor's Broadcasting tower to tell him something just in time to catch the tail end of Stayed Gone. Alastor is in a rather unique mood and in terrifying form as he decides the best way to work his excess energy off is with you.

You were not sure how you got here. Charlie had sent you up to Alastor’s tower to tell him something. What it was, you couldn’t remember. 

Fear raced through your veins as you watched Alastor grow as he stood from his chair. Raw power crackled through his radio tower. He had set aside the microphone tipped cane he so often carried, freeing his hands as he stood. The sound of his voice carried, wrapping around you and drawing you closer and closer. 

Joints loudly cracked and popped as the monster that had once been the handsome, charming Alastor turned to look at you. Bright red radio dials looked at you, the points on the knobs ticking around and around with his heartbeat. Or was it yours? 

Black sclera surrounded the dials, so dark you thought it could swallow the universe. The stitching on his clothes stood out, bright red lit up and glowing with his lower. The usually small antlers on his head were far from that now. They extended, wide and heavy, tines scratching against the walls as he reached out to you. 

Everything about him was so much more massive. His smile stretched wide, bright red blood seeping from his lips and running down his chin. It dripped to the floor, splatters that went ignored. 

You trembled in his hand as he looked down at you. He had an imposing stature as a standard, towering over you, but now he was at least double the size. Wide eyes roamed over his shoulders, now so much broader than they had been. Everything was too wide or too long, his head hanging off a bent neck that shouldn’t have been able to support it. 

“Alastor?” You watched with wide eyes as he looked down at you, head crooked with an unnatural crack that reverberated around the room. 

“Just who I wanted to see,” Alastor said, voice more static than you had ever heard it before. 

You and Alastor were not a couple, but you also were not not a couple. There had been countless nights you passed, tucked into his side, listening to the static weave in and out of his voice. In public, you were nothing more to him than a friend at best. Over his shoulder, nearly blocked from view, was the lit up, glaring ‘on air’ sign. 

“What are you doing?” The question was hardly more than a hissed whisper as a large clawed finger hooked into your pants. 

Alastor only laughed as he pulled, the fabric biting into your lower back before the stitching gave way, ripping. Your eyes roamed over the terrifying man in front of you. It would be a lie to say you didn’t find the power, chokingly thick in the air, attractive. It was so easy to forget just how powerful your lover was. 

There was no denying it now. This was the demon who took lives as a hobby in his life. This was the man who cut down overlords that had ruled for decades as if they were nothing when he landed. This was the man that commanded respect and fear. 

Alastor’s clawed finger cut through your shirt, easily snagging and shredding your bra in the process. You were left naked, standing in front of the bank of windows that looked out over the dark Pentagram City. The only buildings lit up from inside was the hotel. 

Anyone looking in would be able to see you.

That sent excitement through your core. Alastor’s cock strained against his pants, the terrifying size only adding more excitement. With one hand wrapped around your waist, he lifted you easily off your feet. His other hand made quick work of his belt, freeing his cock.

“Alastor,” you said, this time more urgently, as he parted your legs.

“So wet for me,” static threatened to eat his words. 

Red radio dials looked at your glistening folds, betraying how attractive you found his show of dominance and power. A black tongue ran out from between needle sharp yellow teeth, running over his lips before slithering back inside the cavern of his mouth. The stitches at the sides of his smile strained, keeping his smile firmly in place while he spread your knees wider, pushing your legs up and out. 

“The show is far from over, folks,” Alastor said.

“It’s not going to fit,” you whined as the massive head of his cock, more the size of a fist, ran between your folds, probing at your unprepped entrance. 

“Don’t worry,” Alastor said, cheery as the sound of excited cheering burst through the static, “We’e already dead.” 

“What does that mean?” you whimpered as his hand stroked the length of him. His shaft was as thick as your forearm. 

“It means,” Alastor’s cock pressed into your weeping opening, bulling the muscle to widen. “That I will make you take my cock, even if I have to break you.” 

Burning pressure spread from your core as he forced you wider and wider. Pain and pleasure danced as he slowly sank deeper, not even an inch deeper. You could feel his cock pressing against bone as he spread your opening as wide as it felt like your pelvis could accommodate. 

He thrust ever so slightly as the head of his massive cock pushed deeper and deeper, each withdraw spreading your slick over him. You panted and groaned, body trembling as he slowly forced you to take him deeper and deeper. 

Burning pain had your back arching, breasts displayed to him. Wetness seeped out of you, running down the swell of your as. Alastor’s smile and the pain told it you was blood. 

You screamed as the head of his cock popped past your opening your, hole snapping tightly down around his shaft. Pleas of mercy dropped from your lips as you begged him to shrink down, to return to the lover you knew so well. 

Alastor did not relent. Instead, as he pushed deeper and deeper, each slight withdraw followed by a push deeper and deeper. It felt like he was everywhere inside you as he filled you. 

A new pain came to life as his head nudged against your cervix. Tears ran down your eyes as he pulled back, only half his length fitting into you. Static covered praises fell from his bloody grin as you bounced with the force of every thrust. 

The on air sign still was lit behind Alastor. Each of your whimpers, each begging plea, was being broadcast across the city and perhaps further. You didn’t know how wide Alastor’s reach actually was. 

It felt like he was ripping you in two, reach measured thrust of his massive cock splitting you apart. It hurt, but fuck, it felt good. Pain and pleasure mixed as Alastor’s monstrous form hovered above you. Black blood dripped onto the broadcast desk, soaking between buttons and dials. It splattered onto your side, cooling as he worked in and out of you.

Around the city and beyond, perhaps all throughout hell, the sound of your gasping breaths and whimpered pleas, the sound of Alastor’s snarls through the static shifted, tone changing as different effects and overlays were applied, shifting and changing. 

“To big,” you cried as he pressed into you, thrusting his cock into your cervix, pushing you higher up the panel as your body refused to yeld more space to his cock. You were already straining and failing to accommodate his size. Blood trickled down from your core, lubricating his cock more and more while your body painted his desk with it. 

A clawed hand grabbed your shoulder while he looked down at you with small red glowing dials. His face was nothing more than sharp. The teeth, the eyes, the smile- it was all sharp and dangerous, just like the pain that racked through you as his fingers gripped your shoulders. Claw tipped fingers bit into your shoulder as his smile cut somehow wider. 

“I can’t,” you whimpered. Your legs fell open wider as you tried anything to make more room for him. The blunt head of his cock pressed into your cervix more and more. “Please, Alastor, I can’t.” 

“You’re so wet for me, Cher.” Alastor’s static voice growled out, smile not moving as his voice seemed to come from all around her. “You can take it.” 

“I can’t,” tears ran down your face as he pulled back, cock slipping as he backed out of your opening inch by inch. The shaft his cock drug against your sensitive clit, folds spread and stretched to the point of ripping. “Fuck, Alastor. Please, I just- it’s too much, too much.” 

“You can,” Alastor promised, abdomen tensing as blood dripped from his chin onto your abdomen, “And you will.��� 

The dark promise was the only warning you had. His body flexed, curling in on you as he thrust forward. His shaft ran over your clit, a blinding pleasure even as it felt like he had ripped your insides apart, forcing them to accommodate him. The scream that ripped from your throat echoed through all of hell. 

Your claws, nothing near as impressive as Alastor’s, dug into his arms as you clung to him. Tremors ran through your body, a convulsion of muscle triggered by pain and adrenaline. Pleasure tainted it all as his cock slid over the bundle of nerves, teasing her clit. 

Wide pain-filled eyes looked up at the black void of Alastors. Your lover had always been gentle with you, until now, even at his most demanding. His hips rutted against you, grinding the fur at the base of his cock against your clit, sparking more pleasure through the pain. 

“Look at you,” Alastor’s voice came from all around as he enjoyed the view. “Look how your stretches.” 

His hand caressed down your naked chest, claws scratching over the pebbled buds of your nipples as he made his way down, palm pushing against the swell of the head of his cock, straining out against your insides.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, running your hand down after his, feeling him from the outside of you. “Alastor,” 

“That’s right, cher,” Alastor groaned, “That’s me, so deep inside you.” 

Each twitch of his cock lodged deep inside you stirred your guts. He ground his hips against your clit, sparking a pleasure that seemed only to be amplified by the pain racking through your body. 

“Tell me it doesn’t feel good,” Alastor growled out, pulling back a few inches only to thrust into you again, clint dragging against his cock, forcing your back to arch. Your breath gasped, pleasure winning out over pain as you ran your hands up his arms in a pathetic attempt to hold the monster that your lover had become. 

“Please,” tears ran down your eyes as your legs relaxed, seeking more of the poisoned pleasure his thrusts gave you, “Fuck, please, Alastor. More. Move. Fuck, do something.” 

The whole of hell heard the moment you had given up, surrendering to the Radio Demon. Gasping moans of pain morphed into that of pleasure as he thrust his cock in and out of you. Each shallow stroke became deeper and deeper. Blood smeared under you, a testament to the ruined state of your insides as he fucked you with full, deep strokes. 

Tears ran down your face, soaking into your hair as each long thrust of his cock hit harshly, bodies slapping together. Your breasts bounced, nipples dancing in front of his glowing face as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Going to cum?” he asked, laughing at the way your stomach distended with every thrust. 

“Fuck, yes.” You whined as his cock brushed your clit again and again, pace quick and never letting up on the stimulation. 

He swelled inside you, somehow able to push your organs aside to make room for his size. Each twitch of his cock felt violent and yet you thrived on it, basking in the poisoned pleasure. 

The coil inside you did not snap, nor did you step over the edge. It wasn’t a soft push. He didn’t even throw you over. No, when you came, it was something unlike anything you had ever experienced before. 

Your world shattered. The coil was little more than shards of shrapnel, adding to the mix of pain and pleasure. The edge seemed to disintegrate under your feet, becoming no more. Muscle ripped with the force of the convulsions that ran through your body. 

His name was a shriek, blowing out speakers throughout hell as your body clamped down on his cock. The thrusts into you were brutal now, stinging pain blooming from where his hips slammed into wet skin. 

Alastor’s static rose, becoming a feeling in the air and less a sound as he held you steady, chasing his own release. Your fingers dug into his coat, trying so hard to ground yourself as you struggled to pull breath after breath into your lungs. 

He came with explosive force, wedging himself deeper and deeper into your opening as he pumped violent spurts of his seed into you. You could feel it as he painted your guts white and then he kept going, thrusting into you as more and more waves of seed was deposited into you. 

He came still, even as he pulled out, fist wrapping around his twitching cock. Long, hot ropes of cum spurted from him as he thrust into his working first, shooting out onto you. As his seed gushed from your twitching hole, a mix of white stained with ribbons of red, he painted your stomach.

Ropes decorated your breasts, coating your nipple. He moaned, shoving seed back into you with claw tipped fingers as he fucked his hand. Ropes landed on your neck as you gasped, only to have hot cum land on your face.

The salty taste of him invaded your mouth as his fingers finally left you. Seed soaked into your hair as you lay, twitching, bleeding, leaking and gasping for breath. 

Only once his cock stopped shooting hot ropes onto your spent body did Alastor’s form recede, changing from the monster that had taken you with such violence to the man you had known. All the while, you lay soaked from the inside out in his seed. 

Alastor stood, looking down at the result of his work. Jagged breaths racked through your body as you struggled to focus your eyes on him. You had sounded good, broadcast throughout hell. A truly lovely encore to his performance with that TV dimwit. 

Better yet, you looked more beautiful to him now, body spent, broken and wrecked, leaking blood and his seed onto the broadcasting equipment that was his pride. 

Oh yes, you looked good like this indeed. He would have to repeat this broadcast, perhaps make it a reoccurring special. Not too often, though. Even with your demonic abilities, you would need time to heal all the tissues he had torn. 

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[jaggedjot]

Louis and Claudia are not just identifiable as American by way of their speech (“American? Your French is ugly.”) and movement (“You could tell from his walk, he was an American.”), but are posited by the narrative to be symbolic representations of postwar America itself (“The American vampires appeared to be as dull and plain as their tourists and soldiers were.”, “Do American vampiresses all wear pastels?”, “And are all American vampires as alluring as you?”). The pair set themselves up in France as “moneyed Americans”, described by Armand as having a “velvet-heeled arrival” despite the pair coming to the city on the back of a truck. That Paris has been left by the war with deep physical and societal wounds is treated as an inconvenience that they have to impatiently endure. Santiago picks at these stitches during the performative execution of the pointedly foreign Annika, invoking the paranoia of occupation with his line “[...] the next time you're in the pew, you turn to your neighbour and say, ‘Peace be unto you.’ They'll give you up... in a wink!”. It is telling that the only explanation Armand gives for his choice of victims to the coven is that they are profiteering from the suffering of postwar France (“Whilst their countrymen clutch ration cards, they've made quite a killing manipulating the black markets.”), a statement which seems to deepen their appetite for the ensuing slaughter. These are not resentments and histories however shared by Claudia, who may revel in the massacre but has already knowingly associated with a woman branded as a collaborator, or Louis, whose attempts to engage with the world through photography only further positions him as an outsider. This detachment is what causes Louis and Claudia to be regarded as interlopers, suspected to believe themselves to be too important to heed traditions, manners (“It's custom and practice for traveling vampires to make themselves known”) or the welfare of their temporary home (“We were constantly cleaning up for them.”). Though American soldiers played a role in the later stages of the liberation of Paris, the increasing presence of Americans in the city is framed as another more insidious occupation (“[...] our Anglican friends now invading Paris postwar”, “My dear American friend [...] who has dominated my mind”). As Americans, Louis and Claudia are granted more privileges in society than other black ethnics groups (“But I wasn't an Algerian. I was an American”). It is not just that the French theatre troupe composed of multinational actors now has “five out of every seven” of their performances in English, but the coven has been instructed by Armand to remake itself as “an English company” and speak the language offstage too. Armand’s welcoming attitude to increasing American influence in the city, how it creates a “more receptive” and “optimistic” audience, is not a simple or universal one. There is a distinct bitterness belying the fanfare accompanying Louis and Claudia’s arrival, particularly from Santiago (“I ask you, Maitre, was it worth the wait?”), but it is also notably still present in Armand’s lighthearted teasing (“Seventy-seven years and it still feels like a slight.”, “Five months removed [...] the Americans were finally coming to Pigalle.”). At least during these early months, Louis and Claudia seem to view Paris more as a static backdrop against which they can discover themselves and heal their relationship. This is a mistake that they will likely only realise when it is already too late, for this fragile and volatile setting is entwined with the tragedy that awaits them.

[whereserpentswalk]

You are going to get the chance to go to a university in another plane of existence for one semester. Everyone in your life will just think you're abroad somewhere. When entering the new plane you'll be given a new body that matches that plane's inhabitants, (most people probably won't believe you if you ad it you're from another plane). You'll also automatically know the language they speak there.

Your options are:

1: a university in a plane where no biological life exists, and instead the main inhabitants are advanced robots. Your new body will probably be pretty alien to the one you have now, so it might take soke time getting used to it. The technology of this plane is also more advanced than yours. And the university you'll be going to is inside of a massive pyramid.

2: a university within the plane of the faeries. This is actually one or the planes that's had the most contact with your own, though they don't look upon humans well. Faeries are diverse creatures, ranging from elegant humanoid, to buglike and fungal monasteries, it also seems they don't have a human concept of morality. Also note that their idea of a "school" is much diffrent from ours.

3: a university in an alternate timeline where the KPG mass extinction never occurred. The earth here has a single sentient species, who evolved from feathered raptors. This is an alternate earth instead of a truly alien plane, so it's not going to have diffrent physics, though you will be dealing with a species very alien to your own.

4: a university within a plane of endless sea. There are three main species here, one who have humanlike bodies but gills and mouths like jawless fish, one who have hard crablike shells that almost look like armor, and one who have long shark like tails but more humanoid upper halves with four arms. Humans also exist here, and live exclusively on ships and submarines, but they're rare.

5: a university in a plane similar to our own earth, but where magic, cryptids and monsters all exist and are known to exist. While the school is mostly humans, a few undead, lycanthropes and other strange creatures have attended here. The university you'd be sent here if you choose this to is in a major cultural hub, and while it doesn't teach exclusively magic that is an option. It should also be mentioned that humans don't have sex here and their bodies lack any sex characteristics, and how they reproduce is a mystery.

6: a university in a plane where demons, djinn and fallen angels come from. This is a vast realm, filled with caverns, dark forests, vast deserts, and massive artificial structures, with the university you'd be going to here being at the massive city in its center. The creatures here are far less evil than many think, and their forms are probably the most diverse of an plane listed here's inhabitants. This is also another plane which has had some interaction with yourse.

7: a university in a plane of endless forest, with trees so massive entire cities are built into their trunks. Nobody has ever seen its floor, and nonody has reached the top of the tallest known trees. This plane is inhabited by insectoid humanoids, of many diffrent varieties, and it seems that no vertebrate life exists here.

8: a school in a plane that exists entirely digitally. Some parts of it are static screens, others entire 3d or 2d worlds. It can be hard for mortals to adjust to this type of world, but if you've spent a lot of time on the internet or playing video games you kind of get how it feels to be here, just without any body required to interface with this location. Also note that there are some very malicious entities here that might harm you if you aren't being careful here.

9: a university in a desert plane where humans have become outnumbered by various types of undead, ranging from liches and phantoms to vampires. The undead here are sentient and have mostly assimilated into human society by now and most humans have adapted to their culture, and the war between the two kinds has long ended. While this world is at about a 21st century level of technology, there's proof it may have once been far more advanced long ago. Due to a past conflict humans here have lost what we'd consider 'afab' bodies, and require strange magic involving water to create offspring.

10: a school in a plane that consists of an endless city, constantly bathed in summer night. Technology here is slightly more advanced than it is in your world, and alongside humans, cyborgs, and robots are quite common, some of whom take on forums quite alien to humanity. Humans here also all posses bodies we'd consider 'afab', due to events long past, and reproduce using technology. The university you'll go to if you choose this one is in one of the most populated parts of the endless city, near the center of the known world, though they say strange and unknowable creatures lurk near the edges of the known city.

11: the university in the nameless city of yetoth.[Warning, this is a highly dangerous option and involves entities not cleared for human knowledge]

Reblog to teleport to the plane of your choice. Like to bring home a gift from where you went.

[christinebloodwrittings]

Dream a little dream of me.

Request: I had an idea for you to accept yourself and feel comfortable doing so, of course! 💕

Well, what if the reader was a human from an alternate universe who fell into the world of Hazbin... And the reader has a secret, that she can use magic, but refuses to use her unique magic, until the day of war. .. The reader hates wars and seeing her friends getting hurt, so use her unique magic, where she summons magical flowers that cause drowsiness, and with that, making everyone in hell and the angels sleep peacefully and as a bonus, healing everyone who are suffering while they sleep (The reader's plan is to make everyone sleep until the extermination time ends, so that no one gets hurt or dies)... And in their dreams, people would be living their greatest desires and dreams come true, having and discovering what they really want, even if they refuse to admit it when they're awake...

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader Summary: A decision made in between desperation and love, to protect everyone reader makes everyone sleep, while she made sure everyone was taken care of. Warnings: Blood, violence.

(The real ones will acknowledge 2 references) Also I tried, but I simply can't write yandere characters XD it came out cringy.

You felt a slight distant feeling in the spirits surrounding the hotel. A battle was coming, not quite a war, but no less deadly. You sat in the windowsill, watching the red city thrive with life and evil, unaware of the affairs dealt within the hotel’s walls.

Sorrow was not an emotion you would attach to a situation quite like that one, but thinking in all the princess has done for you, and how open minded she was of your condition and your posture against violence, you couldn’t help to feel a great deal of sadness, contemplating an untimely death for everyone inside.

“Y/n, I know you had told me before, but would you please consider changing your mind?” earlier, the princess pleaded, her hand caressing your arm. Your dexterous ability with magic was clear to her, so she tried to bend your arm – figuratively – to get you to join the battle.

“I’m sorry princess, I cannot” you watched the sadness wash over her eyes. Her girlfriend offered some reassurance after she walked away from you, not wishing to press the matter onto you any further.

“What was it like, in your dimension?” Husk asked, not looking up from the glass he was cleaning. “Violent, dark, strict” as if you could describe your birthplace, not quite like a home but a prison, a place that seemed like hell, just with a tad of more fire.

“I dare bet that you used to be an angel, dearest” the radio demon slid onto a barstool, taking the one closest to you. “What makes you say that?” he took your hand off your drink, rising it to his lips, feeling each and every single one of the cold scales on your knuckles against his skin. “There’s not a single demon in hell with your capabilities, specially those to resist the call to freely infringe pain” in another life, maybe, but seeing what your anger could do, you simply couldn’t.

“I’ll take that as a compliment Radio Demon” he made a static sound as he chuckled, finding your cheekiness adorable. “Wasn’t it?” he still held your hand in his, enjoying the ridges on the back of your hand. “In your tongue? No” you made your scales stand in point, prickling one of Alastor’s fingers, which made him wince and hiss.

“I wish you bests of lucks, Alastor. May fortune be on your hand when you slay that ignorant so-called angel” you saluted him as you would do to a soldier or a knight. He watched you go up the stairs, his favorite time of the day was when he could just watch you flee.

The gentle sway of your hips had a vice grasp on his sanity. Your eyes were those of a snake, captivating and mysterious, with the most beautiful color he had ever seen, such combination couldn’t have an earthly name, he once thought. Your skin seemed soft and undamaged, yet it hid millions of little scales that shined subtly with the fire’s light.

If it weren’t for your black crooked horns that made a crown at the height of your temple, and the black bat-wings that you dragged behind on back, you could be mistaken for a divine creation. Alastor knows he made that mistake upon first meeting you.

How easy was for you to make his powers flee him, and a chill to travel up his spine to the tip of his prongs. He not only met arousal for the first time, but also attraction.

You are intelligent, Alastor was aware of that from moment one. That's why he knew that you would never choose a sinner of his level as a life partner, you were made for greatness, for something far out of his reach to become. If his pride didn't get in the way, he would easily kneel at your feet, and make you his, even if he had to beg you for it. But his pride and denial of his own feelings was as big and vast as hell.

But oh, how he loved to see you go. It was a spell itself, the way you took his breath away as you disappeared inside the corridor.

The next day, the battle was freely fought in the front garden of the hotel. In your room you kept the little creatures safe, while you kept yourself safe. But there's only so much a person can take, so much explosion and dismemberment, it made you jump out of your hiding place and take to the field.

“ENOUGH!” you hit the earth with your fist, not breaking it, but your green power made grass grow up from the dry and dead soil of hell. Then, red little flowers bloomed, the spores made everyone who smelled it fall asleep, including Alastor and Adam on the ceiling.

“What is this magic?” Lute remained on the sky, covering her mouth with a cloth. “Poppies, they’re just asleep” you flew to meet her level, she didn’t take that too nicely since she rushed to attack you with her sword, “So you can kill us faster?”, you were quick to avoid her advances.

“Not at all, please pick up your wounded sisters and leave” you gave her the chance, “Why, what makes you believe I will-” you summoned your spear, made of dark magic, and pointed her neck with it.

“If you fall to your blinded nonsense and attack me once more, I will retaliate” you mere poked her crown with the flat blade before making it go away, “If I do you will be the last one to die” the aura surrounding you, made her wings twitch. “Let’s see about that” was what she muttered before launching herself at you.

One of the properties of the sleeping poppies, was that they provide whoever that smell them a pleasing slumber, dreaming with what they desire the most.

For Charlie it was the hotel finally working.

For Vaggie, it was Charlie happily married to her.

For Angel Dust, it was to be free of Valentino’s grasp. Husk shared that exact vision.

Everything was dark. Guided by the smell of humidity and damp earth, Alastor walked blindly, the only sound was his own footsteps and his heart beating in his ears.

He felt short of breath when he heard a second pair of footsteps behind him. He quickly ran, spotting a light between the trees, without knowing why, he followed it. His chest was heaving painfully, and each gulp of air felt like fire down his throat.

When he reached the light, he felt himself fall, and when he opened his eyes Alastor was laying on his back, green grass under him, and a cool refreshing breeze softly moving the tuffs of hair on top of his ears. He hadn’t seen a blue sky in a century, he didn’t even remembered he missed the feeling of the sun on his brow. But he did.

“Earth to Alastor!” he looked to his right, and there you were, “Hey mon cher, penny for your thoughts?” you had a fork on your hand with a strawberry on it. The intimate gesture of you feeding him something seemed surreal, but he neverminded, opened his mouth and relished in the sweetness, even though he wasn’t a fan of sweets.

“It’s a lovely day” he was unsure of what to say, one moment he was with Adam, and in a blink of an eye, you were with him. “It sure is, we haven’t had one like this in a while, huh?” he pressed his hand on your cheek, not believing for a second this fake sense of peace in the air.

“This isn’t real” he whispered for himself, but you caught on his words nonetheless. “Wasn’t trying to convince you otherwise” your voice was so gentle, had you always been like this?, “Then, where are we?” he felt a tug on his face, his smile, he didn’t noticed he wasn’t smiling.

“You tell me, my spell reflects the desires of the person in their dreams, so where are we?”  he didn’t recognized the place, It could well have been some postcard image, he liked to see them on the way to the studio, but he wasn't sure.

“On a hill…wait a dream, what about the battle?” what about his body? Although, everything was so idyllic, but in no way did he, after being killed in battle, ascend to heaven. It didn't even cross his mind.

“I’m taking care of everyone as we speak, I’ll be done in a minute” Outside, you were flying over the battlefield, while looking for a way to immobilize Lute without killing her, she made it hard to do so by moving a lot, and attacking you.

Alastor sensed your eyes and your mind were far away, given the stare into nothingness you had. “We lost?” he startled you, so you gave him a rushed answer, entering a separate state of mind connected to his dream.

“No” he was confused, why would you put everyone to sleep after denying the use of your powers? What was the reason of the change of heart?. “Then?” he tried searching in your face, any sign of anything, his ego was dying to know if he managed to kill the winged-wretch of Adam.  

“I heard all the screaming, then…your voice, I just couldn’t anymore” You couldn't handle the thought of losing more people, and dammed as he could be, you had taking a liking over the radio demon’s antiques and old personality.

Your face contorted into a grimace of pain, all of a sudden Lute had attempted to plunge her blade into you, but failed only by a few inches, making a piercing wound on your torso nonetheless, but not in the way she wanted.

“What is going on?” The cuts, given Lute’s advances, were starting to reflect on your skin, staining your white sundress. “I got distracted, is all” you did your best to disregard your situation, making a cover that soon was shattered by another whimper of pain on your part.

Your handle on the situation grew weaker by the minute, until one of her movements graced your wing, forcing you to land forcefully on the Hotel’s ceiling. “I'm going to take advantage of your curse, and when I'm done killing everyone here, I'll come for you” she laughed with a sinister tone.

There was so much hatred in the heart of that angel, it surprised you, you even wondered if he shared the sky in your world with this one, and I hope that's not the case. You were surprised at how cruel a divine being could be.

A ravenous roar echoed through the air; you were immediately held by a huge hand with enormous claws. You looked down in search of Alastor, who had been asleep for a while in a bed made of poppies, but he was not there, and in his place was the beast with red hair, huge jaws, and eyes like...radio dials.

“Holy fucking hell, Alastor!?” the beast took one look at you before pressing you near his wounded chest, as if he was trying to shield you. Lute had to fly backwards, because of Alastor and also because Lucifer made it to the scene.

Seeing his daughter on the ground made him think the worse and he took it on not-so-poor Lute, killing her after a lot of punches. “Ah, sir?” the king of hell took a side look at you, his blood pumping with raw anger, “It’s a sleeping spell, she’s asleep” as if nothing happened, Lucifer’s mood shifted like a light switch, “Could you undo it?” his tone was a bit too stern despite his much better mood, which caused Alastor to growl in warning.

“Relax Albert, I’m not gonna hurt your girl” due to Lucifer's inappropriate insinuating gesture, Alastor tried to crush him with his free hand, failing due to the obvious advantages of the fallen angel, but he still received the message.

After waking everyone up, kicking Adam's ass back to heaven, and a quick remodel of the Hotel, everyone was able to return to their respective rooms to tend to their injuries. Alastor was the first to move towards his room, with you still in his hand.

Still in his large, demonic appearance he entered the room. You didn't remember him having a bed the last time you saw his room, and yet there was one, with red satin sheets, in which he was kind enough to gently place you on.

“Alastor, are you alright?” His size became more normal as he walked to the bathroom, as he did so his fur also began to dissipate, and if it hadn't been for his adorable little tail, you would’ve seen his full naked ass on his way to hide in the bathroom.

“Is your wing alright?” he asked, out of breath and seemingly upset, but it was hard to know from your distance. “I asked first” a robe few from the closet to the bathroom, then Alastor walked back into the room.

“I’m fine, your turn” you knew damn sure he was not okay, but you weren’t going to press the matter, yet. “It’s not bleeding anymore” you showed him the cut on your extended wing, his eye twitched then proceeded to ask, “And your body?” given the extensive cuts on your cheek, arms and legs.

“Alastor what the hell happened back there? I appreciate you getting defensive, it was a bit attractive, not going to lie- I mean, how the fuck did you woke up?!” It hit you harder than a train when you put two and two together.

"I don't know, I just did" the fact that his dream started out as a nightmare, the scenario similar to how he died, and then there was you. It was unconscious to wake up and transform, but the fact that he took you in his hands and had the intention to protect you was not only visceral but also something that he felt was right.

“That’s impossible” he shook his head at your words, "Listen, in your spell, was it my head making you talk or...were you really there?" He sat in front of you, bandages in hand that he magically made appear, ready to tend to your wounds. "What do you think?" he took your hand, watching your inky black blood coloring your skin, you were an enigma to him.

"I heard you calling me" when you said that, his ears twitched. Your spells are accurate, but people's wishes are not written in stone, they change, grow and are full of life. Alastor was calling to you, whatever that reason was, it was strong, enough to split your subconscious to be with him.

You knew, just by seeing the relief in his eyes upon seeing you, that even without calling you, your image would have been reflected in his dream.

“I…I want you to stay” he brushed up your wing, to put a large band aid on the cut, his face close to yours. “I’m not going anywhere” you whispered close to his lips, “I mean–” you pecked his lips, “I know what you mean, I’m not going anywhere” his hand caressed your cheek, passing your pointy ears and down to your neck.

After a light tug he pressed his lips onto yours.

An electric feeling ran through his body, inside his pants his little tail was wagging because of how happy he finally felt with the truth on the table. To think that his heart fluttered in his chest at the thought of losing you in battle, he simply couldn't have lived with that.

“I will finish this up, you did a great work with my wound by the way” he kissed your cheek, sighing onto your soft skin.

After leaving you to be more of a bandage than a person, Alastor opened his heart to say something he hadn't said since his mother passed away. "Y/n, I think that, more than just a desire, I feel like I can't breathe properly if you're not present. The idea that you could have died yesterday filled me with rage, I couldn't tolerate the image in my head” he took your hands in his, they were shaking.

“I think that I love you, but I also feel that that term falls short, and I’m afraid I don’t understand it very well either, or you for that matter” Alastor hadn't felt this nervous since the first time he auditioned to be the new voice of the radio, and being a man of color, damn he was nervous.

Fun fact, he was less afraid when fighting Adam.

“Well, I have no desire to come back to my home-world, so we have time” a genuine smile painted his face, as he slowly pressed his lips back to yours, “You’re magical” he sighed, taking you into his arms, no matter how much it hurt post-war.

"I don't understand it either, but once I had a dream of you Alastor, similar to this"

"When?"

"Half a century before we met"

"Destined to be, then?"

"Yeah, feels like it"

"You know this means I won't let you go, right?"

"I was counting on that"

[shyshyshyz]

Got a request: Caitlyn x astronaut reader who arrived to Runeterra via a wormhole and crashed in the harbor resulting in them being a celebrity among the locals. One day Caitlyn sees the reader trying to fix their radio and phone which they do as it begins singing things from their world.

Echoes from Beyond

Summary: After crash-landing in Piltover, you’ve drawn quite the crowd as the city’s first extraterrestrial visitor, but you’re more concerned about fixing your radio and tuning out the attention. Still, Caitlyn Kiramman’s curiosity—and her sharp wit—keep pulling you in. When she catches you trying to repair your old radio late one night, the device starts playing a song from home, and the sarcastic exchanges between you take on a different tone entirely.

Word Count: 6,500

W: Sci-fi elements, sarcastic humor, homesickness, slow-burn romance, tension.

Sparks flew from the radio, and you winced, pulling your hand back. The device sputtered, wires twisted and exposed, and the panel you’d jerry-rigged threatened to fall off altogether. “Perfect. Yeah, go ahead and fall apart on me,” you muttered, glaring at the radio like it might fix itself out of sheer guilt.

“Talking to your equipment?” a familiar voice broke in. “I’ve heard it’s not the most effective strategy.”

You glanced up, a smirk forming as you found Caitlyn Kiramman watching you with an amused arch of her brow. “Well, you’d talk to it too if you’d crashed on an alien planet and had exactly one broken radio to your name.”

She chuckled, stepping closer. “Good to know sarcasm is universal. You do realize half of Piltover’s harbor has been talking about you since the day you arrived?”

You gave a dramatic sigh, feigning a look of exhaustion. “Ah, yes. My lifelong dream: celebrity status on a world I didn’t even know existed. Truly, I’m living the dream.”

Caitlyn laughed, a real, warm sound that seemed out of place in the cold harbor air. She leaned down beside you, peering at the broken radio. “Does it ever work, or is it more of an… ornamental piece?”

“Oh, it works. When it feels like it.” You poked at the wiring, the sarcasm creeping back into your voice. “It’s a little temperamental, just like me, I guess.”

She tilted her head, giving you a sidelong glance. “I suppose I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

You smirked, glancing up at her. “Careful. Next thing you know, I’ll be making demands. Like… what’s a proper breakfast here? Any weird Piltover customs I should be aware of?”

Her lips quirked as she held your gaze. “Maybe you’ll find out if you stop playing with broken radios in the middle of the night.”

Just as you were about to volley back with another jab, the radio sputtered to life, static giving way to a faint, haunting melody from your world. Both of you fell silent, the sarcasm fading as the music filled the air, bringing a rare quietness to your typically witty exchanges.

For once, Caitlyn looked genuinely speechless. “That’s… that’s beautiful,” she murmured. “It doesn’t sound like anything I’ve ever heard.”

You cleared your throat, attempting to hide the sudden vulnerability the music brought. “It’s just a song from home. They—uh, they play it a lot back there. It’s about… finding beauty, even when you’re a million miles from home.”

Caitlyn’s eyes softened, and you felt her presence in a way that startled you. “I think I get it.” Her hand brushed against yours, and your sarcasm melted just a bit. “Maybe you don’t have to be so far from that kind of beauty. Maybe Piltover has a little of it, too.”

You let out a scoff, though it came out weaker than intended. “Yeah? Well, jury’s still out on that one.”

But as her hand stayed near yours, and her gaze held yours just a moment longer than usual, you felt a warmth that wasn’t just from the music. Maybe, you thought, Piltover had more than you’d given it credit for—especially if Caitlyn was part of it.

[ladyveronikawrites]

AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT A GOOD TIME

Lady Midnight's Kinktober in the Concrete Jungle 2024

Pairing: Nicholas Ruffilo x Jolly Karlsson x OC x Noah Sebastian

Cw- masked men, roleplaying, sensory deprivation: blindfolds, scarf as bondage, unprotected vaginal sex, mean ex boyfriend, double penetration, oral sex (male and female receiving), mild thigh slapping, spitting, vaginal fingering,  jerking off, facial, cum eating,  revenge kink if you squint, getting caught, voyeurism, THICK DICK NICK, one hot foursome, If I missed anything please let me know!

AN: a little self-indulgent fic, Star Wars characters ahead - Nick as Kylo Ren makes me feral lol - pärla means 'gem' in Swedish

AO3 || Wattpad || Word Count: 3k || masterlist || Taglist sign up

dividers by saradika-graphics

Ruby swipes on her signature red lip as she looks over her outfit in the full-length mirror by the front door. She adjusts her boring brown Jedi robes Nathan insisted she wear to juxtapose his Darth Maul. She scoffs to herself knowing damn well he has no idea who Darth Maul is and probably found the costume at Spirit Halloween. Reluctantly she sighs, the distant dream of her Sabine Wren cosplay lying buried under clothes in her closet never to see the light of day.

Her phone chimes, ripping her from her brief moment of sadness. 

She frantically types ‘OMW’ as she slides into the Uber.

Nathan <Ru, I have been waiting for over an hour.>

She can hear Nathan’s anger through the screen, silently sending a prayer for the driver to go faster. Ruby and Nathan were high school sweethearts that turned into an on-and-off-and-on-again situationship while they were away in college, but when Ruby dropped out of college to pursue music full-time as an indie artist - things went sour really fast. He never understood her passion for music, too self-absorbed in his reputation at the Ivy League university he got into thanks to his wealthy parents. 

Her fingers freeze over the screen as her heart shatters into a thousand pieces. 

Nathan <You know what, since it seems like you don’t care about MY time, we are done. For real this time. Don’t even bother coming.>

Tears stream down her face as she powers down her phone and shoves it into her purse. He can go fuck himself, Ruby thinks to herself - and she gets an even better idea. 

“S-sorry but can you take me downtown instead?” she asks, her voice wavering slightly as the realization sinks in. She takes a deep breath, drying her tear-stained cheeks as the driver pulls up to Nathan’s most hated bar- which happens to be her favorite, Third Base. 

The bar is bustling as she walks in. It’s been updated since she had been there, all those months ago when Nathan was doing a semester abroad in Rome. Ruby instantly fell in love with the quaint charm of the dive bar. It didn’t help that the bar owner was ruggedly handsome, the kind of personality that was homegrown from a small town. She ached for the slow stroll of home instead of the hustle and bustle of city life. Festive Halloween touches add to the ambiance and that’s when she realizes other patrons are also adorned in costume.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” his familiar twang wraps around her like a warm blanket. She should probably be sobbing into her wine glass in a rose-scented bubble bath in the comfort of her home instead she replies with “Whiskey neat, double.” She notices he’s the only one not dressed up, even his bartender is sporting a risque outfit. 

Ruby is about to mention the lack of costume when he asks “That kinda night?” Ruby downs the drink without a word, slides off the metal bar stool, and makes her way to the old jukebox in the corner of the bar. She scrolls through the CDs not really impressed with the selection. 

“Not finding what you’re looking for?” A distorted voice has Ruby turning. She opens her mouth to grumble about the lackluster music selection, but her brain turns to static. She’s met face-to-face with Kylo Ren. 

“I-” 

“Here, you might like this.” Another man dressed up as a Mandalorian pushes between them. Ruby stands in awe as the two men fight over a CD. Her awe turns into appreciation as she notices the small details in the homemade costume. Whoever’s in the suit spent hours making it.

“Can I buy you another drink?”  A deep voice comes from the bar.

She turns and freezes. “N-nathan? How’d yo-” She is silenced by a red-painted finger as the man towers over her. Realization strikes her that this man is too tall to be Nathan. 

“Nathan isn’t here Jedi.” Boldly, the stranger spits in her face - playing into the villainous role - yet Ruby can’t help but be even more aroused. 

Ruby finds herself being shoved into the back seat of an SUV. Not in a kidnappy way but in a rushed I-want-to-devour-you-way. The look Darth Maul is giving her has her pussy throbbing. She slides her way in as Kylo and Mando hop in the front. Warm lips pressed against her and; at this moment, she couldn't care less if she was covered in red and black body paint by the end of this. She pulls him in closer as his gloved hand teases the waistband of her leggings. Her head thuds against the window when he slips his fingers inside her as his tongue explores her mouth. Suddenly, his long finger slams into the sweet spot and she bites down on his bottom lip, hard. 

He groans, “You gonna surrender, Jedi?” 

“Fuck, don’t stop,” she whines as he finger fucks her all the way to her apartment. By the time they get to her apartment, his gloves are drenched and the back seat is damp where she was sitting, but Ruby could give a single fuck as in the span of 30 minutes she had already had more satisfying orgasms than Nathan could ever give her. Maybe it’s the adrenaline or the thrill? Probably both. If one of them can satisfy her alone with his fingers imagine all three of them.

“You wanna do this Jedi?” Kylo Ren asks once in Ruby’s apartment.

“It’s not every night you get three masked men in your apartment,” she smirks her hands roaming over his black robes. 

“You’ll have to wear this,” the foreign Mandalorian slides a blindfold over her eyes. 

“That’s fine,” her breath catches as her hands drift up to grip Ren’s mask. “Can I take this off?” 

Abruptly, she finds herself pressed against a solid chest behind her and warm lips devour her own. She tangles her fingers into long hair and he groans when she yanks. 

“I was not expecting long hair, but it’s so soft.” Ruby twirls a strand around her finger. Her hand cups his cheek and pulls him into another kiss.

“Ren’s not the only one here Jedi.” Her heartbeat skyrockets at the memory of Darth Maul in the backseat of the car. The way he towered over her, his eyes dark with lust, and his voice made her pussy flutter.

 The mattress groans with the added weight and Ruby’s mind begins to spiral. She yelps with teeth and stubble brush against the skin on her inner thigh. Fuck, Mando has facial hair that's fucking hot. Ruby giggles as he inches closer to her core and at the same time remembers how Nathan can only grow a pathetic and patchy beard. She squirms, aching for roughness against her pussy..

“Oh you’re a feisty one,” Maul whispers in her ear as he settles down beside her. Suddenly, her hands are bound loosely with something smooth and soft. Her brain rationalizes one of her summer scarves that hangs from the hooks over the door. A part of her hopes it’s her favorite one, the black one with skulls. 

“Our red hot Ruby.” he nips at her ear and at the same time one of them pinches her nipple. Ruby yelps at the sudden pain, endorphins surging through her body. “You like a little pain with your pleasure, hm?” 

Smack

A large hand makes contact with her inner thigh. “Fuck! Yes,” Ruby yelps. “Yes, I like pain ‘n pleasure!”

Lips brush against her cheek. “Our little pain slut.”

“Our little pain slut,” Mando mumbles against her throbbing clit as he sinks two thick fingers inside her. 

“Fuck,” she groans as her pussy walls stretch from the invasion. 

“God Ruby… have you ever- “ he trails off, lost in thought. He sucks her clit between his lips and thrusts his fingers into the spongy sweet spot. Ruby writhes as the coil winds tighter in her core. Large hands clamp down on her shoulders to keep her steady as her body starts to tremble. In a silent scream, the dam breaks, and euphoria floods through her body as she releases herself onto Mando’s face. She writhes oversensitive and overwhelmed as he laps up everything she gives him. 

“Little, pärla” Mando pants, “You are divine.” 

Ruby finds herself being pulled gently to sit upright. “Here’s some water,” Ren says softly, handing her a glass of water.

“Thank you.” Her cheeks warm to the kind gesture. “Nathan never took care of me like this.” Her lips press into a thin line and her shoulders slump forward as her mind flashes each disappointing experience. 

A warm hand settles on the small of her back, gently rubbing up and down. “Ain’t nothin’ but a good time, hm?” Mando whispers seductively, his breath is hot against the shell of her ear.  

Ruby briefly wonders if that would have been the track he chose at the bar. Her heart flutters at the parallels and she enthusiastically adds, “Hell yeah!” 

She squeals at first when hands grip her hips and hoist her onto his lap. His hard cock

“You ready for a good time, sweetheart?” Ren asks before pulling her into a heated kiss. His free hand roams over her tits as another set of hands rubs up and down her thighs. Sandwiched between the two men her heart races with anticipation. 

“Got any lube, darling?” Mando asks as Ren pulls her up onto her knees. 

“In… the… drawer…”  she replies between kisses. Her heart leaps into her throat when a cold and wet finger circles the tense muscle of her asshole.

“Can Mando fill you up back there while Ren plays with your pretty pussy?” Maul’s baritone makes her spine tingle. Mando’s finger stills at her back entrance and Ren nips at her other ear. 

“Can I watch?” Maul asks, pulling the blindfold off and Ruby’s eyes widen, taking in the sight before her. Ren’s stormy blue-gray eyes captivate her first, then his soft smile and tint of pink on his cheeks. She can’t resist carding her hand through his hair, so smooth. He leans into her touch, entranced by the gentleness. The world around them darkness slightly and she briefly forgets about the other two. She could stay here, locked in his gentle gaze but her eyes begin to wonder. Her other hand traces the tattoos on his shoulder to his wrist where in the corner of her vision she spies his large thick cock. 

Suddenly, a gloved hand grips her wrist and twists her sideways. His fingers entwine with hers as the other grips her chin. “Don’t forget about us, Jedi.” His deep brown eyes are piercing and she notices that his face is the only exposed skin free of paint. His abdominal muscles flex as her gaze lowers, she huffs disappointed that he is clothed from the waist down.

Her eyes widen at the sound of a deep moan. Maul tilts her head back so she can see the man behind her. His grasp loosens completely and she twists her body more to see Mando better. 

“Hello, pärla,” he moans her nickname, his eyelids flutter closed as he strokes himself. 

“Looks like Mando’s ready. Are you?” Maul asks. 

Ruby remains fixed on watching Mando touch himself. She mutters a breathless, “Yeah.” 

“Come back to your supreme leader.” A tinge of pain pricks at Ruby’s scalp when Ren fists her hair and tugs. She moans as the pain melts into pleasure. 

“Finally showing me your dark side, Ren,” Ruby smirks. “I like it.” 

“Good.” Ren crowds into Ruby’s space, thrusting his hand around her throat. He squeezes slightly then releases pressure completely. “Lean back.”

Ruby adjusts her stance to straddle Mando’s hips. Together, Mando and Ren guide her to lower herself onto him. Maul groans beside them.  The stretch takes her breath away, if only for a moment as the hand tightens around her neck and lips crash onto hers. Ruby succumbs to the sensations letting Mando set the pace while she battles for breath with the fallen Jedi. Ren shoves her back against Mando’s chest by the throat. She sucks in the air when he releases his hand, chest heaving with every inhalation. 

“My turn,” Ren growls, nipping at her earlobe. He squeezes the soft tissue of her breasts as his mouth trails kisses down her torso. Grinning he spreads her legs apart wider and his lips gently kiss her tummy before descending through her silken folds. Mando thrusts into her as Ren teases her other hole with his tongue and then sucks at her clit. She’s teetering on the edge of bliss when it is abruptly ripped away.

“No cumming yet darling.” Mando stills inside her just as Ren flattens his tongue licking one final time before pulling away. 

“Do you want a taste?” Ren asks, his lips ghosting over hers. Her mouth drops open to respond but without warning, fingers slide their way in. Disappointment sours her stomach when Ren leans over and kisses Mando. Greedily, she flicks her tongue around Ren’s fingers in hopes of vying for his attention. 

“Is our Ruby a little jealous she is getting attention?” Maul laughs. In the heat of the moment, Ruby had forgotten all about him. “No… you aren’t jealous, but your needy little cunt is.” Desperation flashes through her as she bites down on Ren’s fingers. Ren huffs a laugh against Mando’s lips, 

“I heard that cunt is still needy, hm?” Ren tilts his head, his gaze scanning over her body. A small whine leaks out of her mouth. He slides his fingers out of her mouth and onto her throat. His lips curl into a devilish smirk, “You want more?” 

“Yes, yes, yes, please!” Ruby’s lashes flutter when Ren sinks into her dripping pussy. 

“So tight-” Ren groans.

“Dude, I can feel you,” Mando gasps when Ren bottoms out.

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Maul muses.

Ren holds her steady as Mando slowly thrusts in and out of her. 

“Feeling good?” Maul whispers lowly in her ear.

“S-so good, so full.. he's so big” Her words melt into nothingness when Ren flexes inside her.

“Fuck fuck fuck, I’m gonna come… don’t-” Ruby whines as Mando and Ren alternate thrusting into her ass and cunt.

“Ru, you home? I saw your car out front.” Her ex’s voice booms through the apartment, his words slur together in one long word. But she can’t be bothered as pressure builds in her core. 

“Shhh,” Mando shushes her with a hand to her mouth

“Maybe,” Maul leans over and whispers turning Ruby slightly towards him. Grinning he offers his eager cock to her and she eagerly nods. Ren smacks Maul in the arms when he moans as Ruby takes him into her mouth. 

The bedroom door swings open and Maul’s cock throbs between her lips. Ren and Mando are too far gone to care when -

“WHAT THE FUCK!”

Ruby sighs against Maul’s softening cock slipping it from her mouth while she is still being pounded between two beautiful men. It takes all of her strength not to come when she leans around Ren to stare Nathan dead in the eyes. 

“Fuck! You!” she groans as she comes, flipping Nathan one and then sucking on each of her middle fingers. Her eyes roll back as she catches a glimpse of him stalking out the door. When the door slams shut she sinks into Mando as euphoria floods her body.

“Damn, that was hot!” Maul says impressed. Ruby peers up through her lashes at Maul who’s stoking his now hard cock. 

“Yeah?” Ruby cocks an eyebrow. Without hesitation, she pulls his free hand and sucks on his middle finger. 

Maul sucks in a curse. “Damn girl, fuck.” Ruby bites down at Maul’s finger, not painfully hard, but enough when her hair is yanked back and she is pulled off. 

“Wh-”

“Open up,” Mando commands as he grips her jaw forcing her mouth open. Ruby opens her mouth wide and sticks her tongue out with anticipation. Mando lowers his hands to rest around her throat squeezing gently. Ren tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear before leaning down to suck on her nipple. She jolts when he bites down, her pussy walls clenching around his semi-hard cock. Mando slides his hand down her middle to circle her clit as Ren plays with her tits. 

“Fuckfuckfuck,” Maul curses as he splatters his cum all over Ruby’s face. Small whimpers come from her open mouth as another orgasm wrecks through her. She swallows then licks her lips and smiles up at Maul before pulling him closer to lick and suck at his softening cock. She hisses when Ren pulls off her tit with an audible pop. 

Ruby hums satisfiedly, leaning back against Mando, as Ren slides out of her. Before he can say another word, she mumbles, “Baby wipes in the bathroom down the hall.” 

She doesn’t open her eyes but sinks further into bliss as Mando rubs his hands up and down her arms. “You did so well for us Pärla,” he whispers in her ear. All she can muster is a hummed agreement. 

“Let me clean you up,” Maul offers when Ren returns. She blinks to find soft brown eyes and a dazzling smile to greet her. “Thank you,” she whispers. “All of you,” she adds when Ren takes Maul’s place in front of her to press a gentle kiss to her cheek. As Ren and Maul redress, Mando steals more kisses as he helps Ruby up to dress her. 

“Here,” Maul hands Ruby her glass of water. “You can call me Noah.” 

“Hi, Noah.” she flashes him a dazzling smile in the afterglow.

“Food?” Ren asks before adding,” The name’s Nick and he’s Jolly.” 

“No please- you guys can go, I’ll be alright.” Ruby dismisses, gesturing to the door.  

“Please?” Jolly wraps her up in his arms. “Dinner and a movie and we will leave after that.”

“We just don’t want you to be alone,” Nick adds. 

“Fine.” Ruby relents as her stomach rumbles. “Thai food and the new Deadpool movie.” 

The four of them settle on blankets and pillows in the living room with Ruby in the middle. She finds herself leaning against Jolly’s shoulder and for the first time in a long time has finally felt at peace.

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[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Ace's Story - 10

Source for pic

Firestarter 10

Word Count: 6335

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader, slight NSFW (It's mature, not explicit), slightly sugestive behaviour, flirting, jealousy, frenemies, sexual tension, miscommunication, unresolved tension, slight angst, slow-burn, romantic comedy vibes, alternate universe modern setting, swearing, drinking, fluff, feelings realisation, denial of feelings.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You intended to have some alone time, to reflect and heal, but your childhood friend's older brother, Ace, seems to be there just to upset that fragile peace you're striving for. He's a flirt and a womaniser. But why does he also have to be so handsome and perfect? And how long can you resist his charms?

Notes: This chapter was a rollercoaster of emotions! But now we're only missing the epilogue with our happy ending 😊 I will be posting the new poll (for voting on the next story of the meet-cute series) this week! Also, if you want to check out my 100 followers event, feel free to do it! Full disclosure, answers to requests may take a while! Thank you for reading this! ❤️

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn

Masterlist for previous introductory chapters.

|Previous Chapter| | |Final Chapter|

Ace sets his phone down but keeps staring at it. He has a silly little grin on his lips though his eyes are furrowed with apprehension. They're enjoying a tiny break at the fire station, after helping clear the gutters that were blocking the water from flowing freely. 

All the firemen are on standby, waiting for the storm to pass and hoping for a calmer evening. 

Luffy pats Ace on the shoulder with a small smile curling his lips. “What's with the face?”

Ace sighs as he whispers your name, his fingers tousling his hair. “She managed to get a call through and though I barely heard her, she said she was coming over. And that she loves me.”

Ace can't stop a grin from pulling the ends of his lips and Luffy is smiling with him. “But that's good, right? Why do you look worried?”

“I really didn't want her driving in this weather.”

Luffy hums and nods, his eyes darting to the large windows where fat drops of rain pound incessantly. “She'll be fine, Ace! Don't worry!” He pats Ace on the back again while getting up. “Want the last slice of pizza?

And suddenly they're both fighting for the slice, Ace trying to forget that you're driving along dangerous roads and Luffy helping him do it.

-*-

The ring from the station’s phone is shrill and piercing. Ace jumps before picking it up. He's been watching the time and you were supposed to have arrived already. He can't stop the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. 

“Hello, go for Ace.” Even his normal greeting seems strained. 

“Ace, hi! It's Marco.” The older man has an urgency in his tone and Ace snaps in his seat, nudging Luffy as he sets the call on speaker. The connection still feels broken and with a lot of static, but he can make out the words. “There's been an accident at the intersection before the turn to the road that leads to the fire station. I don't know how long, but the car seems to have rolled over at least once. There's a girl inside and she's unresponsive. I didn't touch her but there's a lot of blood-...”

Ace scrapes his chair against the floor as he gets up, not even letting Marco finish the call. His heart is pounding against his chest relentlessly. In his head an unending litany set on repeat: no, no, no, please God, no! 

He feels cold and numb and he doesn't wait for his fellow fireman nor for the truck. He grabs his jeep keys and slides down the pole, running, not answering Luffy’s calls, not hearing anything else but the pounding of his heart in his ears. 

No, no, no, please God, no! 

-*-

When you entered Shanks’ house, a smile on your lips, calling for daddy, he felt a pang in his heart. You had grown up into a fine, beautiful woman. The burn of desire tingled and Ace knew he wanted you. 

He wanted you badly. 

But you were Shanks’ daughter, Luffy’s friend. Off-limits for his little one-night stands. It was okay, he could admire you from afar. 

It got a little harder when you stopped on the stairs and his nose rubbed against your ass. It got even harder once he found your vibrator. God, not even ten minutes had passed since you had entered your home and already he knew you would be the death of him. 

Learning that you were cheated on was like a punch to the gut. After what had happened to you and, as soon as you heard of his reputation, you would never trust him enough to let him get close to you. 

But it was fine. He just wanted to be friends. You were off-limits. 

-*- 

Ace closes the jeep door with a bang and turns the ignition, the windshield wipers swiping into action instantly as the rain keeps its downpour. It's not supposed to be dark yet, but the storm makes everything bleak and grey. 

And he's so afraid. 

It can't be you. It's not you. He's going to help whoever this person is and then he's going to find out that you never left home because your car didn't start. And you just couldn't contact him because of the lines. 

That is it. It isn't you. It can't be you. 

No, no, no, please God, no!

-*-

When you called Shanks because your car wouldn't start, Ace immediately offered to pick you up. Shanks looked at him with a sidelong glance, especially after the battery remark he made to you. As if an older man wasn't aware of toys. 

“Freaking kids think they know everything.” 

But then he agreed, simply because he had a lot of work to do on the property and picking you up would interfere with his plans. 

And the sight of you bending over the hood of your car in that little dress, leaving the lowest part of your butt cheeks exposed, almost gave him a heart attack. Damn, how could you be so cute without even trying? That was what made you even more alluring to him. He couldn't stop the flirty remarks from slipping out of his mouth and seeing you flustered was just the icing on the cake. 

That car almost hitting you had made his heart jump into his throat. What a freaking reckless driver. He barely noticed that he had pulled you into a tight hug, gripping you as if he were about to lose you. 

Except Ace, true to his nature, couldn't help but flirt with the girls who called for his attention. He thrived on attention, he knew that it was a terrible fault. 

One of many. 

And if at first he didn't realise why you had suddenly become so pissed at him and his behaviour, as soon as you snapped it hit him. And you were right. He gave those nicknames to girls because it was easier. He wouldn't get attached this way. He never meant to get attached. 

But you… 

Damn you were built differently. And he had to stop thinking about you like that. Because you deserved much better than a good-for-nothing man like him. 

-*-

He knows he can't go over the limit. He's a firefighter. He knows the risks and the roads are like butter. 

Yet he can't stop his foot from pressing on the accelerator. Even though he knows it can't be you. It really can't. 

You said you loved him. He needs to let you know he feels the same. 

It can't be you.

“Fuck!” He growls as his hand hits the steering wheel and his foot presses down further. 

As soon as his eyes spot the crashed car, his heart sinks and his breath catches in his throat. 

It's your car. 

-*-

The first time you exchanged messages he had the silliest grin pulling at his lips. You were actually responding to his flirts and, for some otherworldly reason, you apologised to him. 

He didn't really think you needed to apologise, but if you were being nice to him, he wasn't going to deny you anything. 

He craved to see you, to hear you, to touch you. 

You wouldn't believe how happily surprised he was when he saw you on your morning run. Obviously he had to tease you, taunt you into a little bet. 

Winning a kiss was a long shot. He made the pitch but didn't expect you to accept at all. When you did, he almost wanted to sprint so he could win right away. But he managed to keep his cool. 

Barely. 

When you tripped and Ace grabbed you, he felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach. It was the way you smelled. Like some sort of flowers - from your shampoo, probably - and the natural tanginess of your sweat. It beckoned to him, leaving him breathless and dazed. 

It also didn't help that you were flush against him, your breasts heaving as your chest pressed against his. It filled his head with lewd thoughts and suddenly all he wanted was to have you squirming beneath him, panting for a whole different reason, sweating from ecstasy and not effort. 

It was a good thing you were distracted and didn't notice the hunger in his eyes, because he would have devoured you right there. 

When the time for the kiss neared and he had you pinned against the fence, his eyes darkened at the sight of your parted lips and the way you gasped slightly as he lifted your chin with two fingers. It took all the self-control he possessed to turn his face at the last possible second so that his kiss landed mostly on your cheek. 

His heart thumped like a drum against his chest and, for once, he was glad he listened to his brain instead of his urges. Otherwise it would have been very hard to stop at just a kiss. 

And he had to keep reminding himself that you were off-limits. That he couldn't treat you as a one-night stand. 

Even though he was starting to realise that you might be more than just a one-night stand. 

-*-

Ace has enough judgement to park the car on the side of the road with the blinkers on to prevent further accidents, yet he sprints out in a rush, completely ignoring Marco as he approaches you. 

The unending litany of ‘No, no, no, please God, no!’ keeps leaving his lips as if it were a prayer. 

As soon as his eyes meet your face, tears start to mingle with the heavy rain pouring down. Through the broken window he realises that the airbags have deployed and are now deflated and you are slumped over the steering wheel. Your face is covered in blood from a cut on your forehead and there are shards of glass on your arms. Your side of the car is crumpled from the impact and, as he tries the door, he finds that it's jammed. 

Worse, you're unconscious. 

His hand reaches in as he checks you and he almost freezes in place. You're not breathing. 

“I'm here, babe. I've got you. I've got you.” He murmurs the words to you and keeps repeating another set in his head:

No, no, no, please God, no!

-*-

Ace couldn't get you out of his head. He tried to distract himself with music, movies, even a book! Yet he kept thinking about your body close to his, your parted, panting lips and the way your eyes fluttered closed before he approached you. His body betrayed him and he kept thinking about the way your lips would feel against his, or how your skin would mould so well against his fingers. 

He needed to be with you. 

Even if it was just to see you, talk with you and spend time breathing the same air as you. He felt as if he was going crazy. He knew how desire felt, he had wanted other girls before - normally fulfilling that need quickly - but with you, he began to understand that it was deeper than just urges that needed to be met. 

So when you knocked on the fire station door, he was set on talking with you, opening himself up and listening to what you had to say. Create a friendship. A steady base to build trust upon. He could do that. He knew he was a good friend. 

He just wasn't expecting to see you looking like that when he opened the door. Thighs exposed, just a little, a cheeky grin on your lips and your smell, God, your smell. It had been years since he had been this nervous around a girl. 

You did something to him that he couldn't quite explain. 

Especially to his heart. Should he see Law at the clinic about it? It had been beating strangely for a while. 

Deuce behaved like an idiot, as usual, and insisted on seeing you, which made Ace jealous. Curious. He was not usually the jealous type. Mainly because he was never with a girl long enough to be jealous of her being around other guys, or because, even if she did, he wasn't interested enough to be jealous. 

Except with you… Damn… he felt a strange burning flame inside him roar to life. It was as if he wanted to keep you forever, to make you his. 

-*-

Ace runs to the passenger’s side of the car and tries the door, cursing loudly when it doesn't budge. Using his elbow and not caring one bit about getting cut, he shatters the glass, taking care to do it gently so as not to hit you with more shards. Reaching in with trembling hands, he unlocks the door and climbs inside. 

“I'm here love. I'm here. You're going to be fine. I'll get you out.” He keeps murmuring. 

His fireman training does not fail him as removes the seat belt and carefully manoeuvres you out of the car, gentle hands supporting your head and neck, trying to hurry, but doing everything in his power to be careful. 

“There, see, we're out. Come on baby. Breathe for me.”

He sets you down on the wet, muddy road and tilts your head back to clear your airways, his fingers pressing gently against your face. Your skin feels cold and clammy to the touch and his tears keep falling and mingling helplessly with the rain. 

No, no, no, please God, no!

“Breathe, baby!” He pinches your nose as he leans down and huffs two breaths into your unmoving lungs. 

Nothing. 

A ragged sob makes his shoulders heave before he places his hands against your chest and starts CPR. 

“You can't leave me now!” He whispers your name. “Fight!”

No, no, no, please God, no!

-*-

The day after your visit to the fire station had Ace walking on cloud nine. When he took girls to the station, it was not just for talking. Never just for that. 

Let alone speak about his worries and how he feels regarding his grandfather. Yet, with you, it felt natural, easy, nice. He wanted to get to know you and wanted you to get to know all of him. 

So he couldn't stop his silly grin from making his freckles dance. 

Not even when his grandfather asked him why he was behaving so foolishly. He kept raving about you, how you'd grown up, how interesting you were, how happy you made him feel. 

Garp was grinning and shaking his head by the end of lunch, calling him a lovesick fool, and it took him a while to realise that he might be becoming just that. Because he didn't remember feeling this way about any girl. Ever. 

Even Garp’s cleaning lady noticed the way he was acting when she was cleaning his room, a mocking smile on her face as she closed the curtains of his room, to keep the afternoon sun out, after finishing. 

He kept wanting to talk to you, but you took so long to answer his texts that he thought he had done something wrong. Again. When you finally reached out, he had to hear your voice. And he ended up talking with you until dinner time. Time flew when he was spending it with you. And he'd be damned if he wanted it to end. 

At the party he was very excited to see you. His heart kept thrumming against his chest as if he were some lovesick teenager and he had to ask Sanji to make him an extra strong drink because he was nervous to see you. 

As it turned out, you ended up drinking his drink and a whole bottle by yourself, as if you were trying hard to get wasted, only he didn't know why. But you looked wonderful in that tight red dress. More than wonderful, actually. You were breathtaking. And he had to keep telling his and Luffy's friends that you were off-limits.

Even to himself. 

He needed a constant reminder of that important fact as well. But it was damn hard to restrain himself once he took you away from the party to nurse your drunken self, and you sat on his lap and told him to kiss you. To have you. To fuck you. 

He didn't know how he managed to do it or where he found the strength or willpower, but he pushed you away from him. With his heart hammering, cock twitching and lips tingling to taste every inch of you. 

But not like this. 

He wanted to have you, he couldn't wait to hear your pretty voice moaning his name or how melodic your mewls and sighs would sound in the throes of pleasure. How you'd writhe and squirm under his touch or how you'd beg for him when he teased you. 

But you were drunk. It wasn’t okay. 

And after he put you to sleep and the party lulled and ended in the wee hours of the night, he returned to his room, having declined advances from many pretty girls, like he had been doing since you had crashed into his life unannounced but not at all unwanted. He watched your sleeping form for who knew how long, before his eyes grew drowsy and he fell asleep on the floor, close to you. Hearing you breathe, sensing your presence and smelling your scent. A scent you'd leave on his sheets for days that were bound to give him the best and most tortuous dreams of his life. 

How he wished he could wrap his arms around you. 

The harsh reality came crashing down - literally - on him in the morning and with you straddling him. Barely having a sense of what was going on, having just woken up, the first thing he realised was that you were squirming and grinding against his cock which was hard already because he couldn't quite discern if this was a dream or reality. 

Begging you to stop squirming and digging his fingers deep into the flesh of your hips grounded him. It was reality. And by heaven above, you on top of him, looking all flustered and dishevelled, as if you'd just ended a steamy makeout session, had him seeing white as he gripped you hard to avoid losing control and kissing you. You were so fucking perfect. 

And then you told him: ‘don't do that’, which he immediately thought that you were talking about the kiss that he wanted to give you, so he got up. Upset, frustrated and hit hard by the reality of the situation. 

You'd never think of him as more than a friend. You'd never trust him enough to realise you were special to him. 

More than just any girl. 

You were the girl. 

-*-

Ace keeps counting aloud, forcing the words out of his mouth to stay in control. Begging for his training to ground him, before he loses himself in agony and pain. 

“One, two, three…”

Two breaths of air straight into your lungs, another moment to see if your chest moves. 

Nothing. 

Desperation sinks in and makes his hands tremble. The cold rain is relentless against his skin and yours, turning everything bleak and sorrowful. 

“Baby, please, please! Breathe!”

He continues administering CPR, his own breath coming in short gasps as tears and ragged sobs make his shoulders heave and shake. 

“Come back to me…” He mutters to the wind, hoping that, wherever you are, his words can reach you.

-*-

Ace's day hadn't started well after that debacle, but that all changed when he saw you by the window, clad in nothing but a very small towel. You apologised for your behaviour over the phone and his heart sank further. 

As if it could be any more obvious that you did not want to be with him. You had the perfect excuse: alcohol. 

Yet, he could hardly be upset with you when you spoke in your sweet voice telling him you liked that he called you Firestarter. It made his stomach somersault and his heart skip a beat. So much so that he decided to make plans to meet at the Jubilee. Because he couldn't wait to see you again. 

He needed to be near you. That much he had made peace with. 

Now he just needed to prove that he could be good for you, that he could help you heal, and that you two could work as a couple. 

Easier said than done, really.

He had been selling calendars for a while at the Jubilee, making small talk with girls who approached the stand giggling, interacting with friends and acquaintances and even entertaining some kids who wanted to try on the fireman’s equipment. 

Yet, his peripheral vision had been on alert since dinner time - the time you told him you would come by - and, as soon as he spotted you, he grinned and told Luffy and his coworkers that he was going on his break.

The opportunity to show you how he felt about you presented itself earlier than expected. As he held you in his arms, faces inching closer together and his heart beating relentlessly, creating a savage rhythm against his chest, he knew his kiss would show you just how perfect you could be together.

Except the kiss never happened. And Ace wanted to kill Deuce for ruining a perfect moment. Because when you both settled down by the swings and he opened up his heart a little bit, you shut him down by repeating that you’re good friends and that your friendship was important, coldly and harshly reminding him that that’s all you’ll ever be.

Friends.

He was ready to call it a night and didn't want to bother you with his presence anymore because he was being a sourpuss. And it wasn’t your fault! If you were not ready to commit - or didn't want to commit to him - he needed to understand that. And fucking move on.

Yet even if he was done with the night, the night was not done with him, and duty called as he saved a girl from a falling stand. She thanked him, flirted with him, and even slipped him her number with an offer to buy him a drink. 

But you made such a ruckus that his eyes wandered to you and he found himself smiling and realising that if you just wanted to be friends, he was fine with it. He would much rather have that, than not have you at all.

So he politely declined the invitation for a drink by the beautiful lady - told her that they definitely should do that, but some other time - and sauntered over to your clumsy side, seeing you try and pick up the mess you made out of Makino’s jewellery stand.

Your playful banter was back on track and it was like your miscommunication issues had never really happened. He was fine with you just being friends. Perfectly fine. Even if he had to repeat it to himself over and over again. 

The matching bracelets were just a nice addition to your friendship, even if Makino was making it look like it was something more. And, to be truthful, he found your embarrassed smile and demeanour quite endearing and adorable. 

Until the beautiful girl from earlier approached with that drink offer again. 

And you bolted out of there as quickly as lightning, giving all sorts of mixed signals, because if you just wanted to be friends, why would you be saddened by him hanging out with another girl?

He saw your tears. 

And they troubled him.

-*-

Ace faintly hears the sirens of the fire truck approaching. The storm feeds a distant roar of noise to his eardrums, but the ringing from the shock and despair is what prevails above the noise.

He just wants to hear you breathing.

That’s the sound he wants - needs! - to hear the most. A gasp, a sigh, a cough… he’ll take anything! As long as you come back to him.

“One… two… three…”

Another two breaths of air to revive your lungs, more compressions, more prayers, more whispers, more tears…

He would give all of himself - everything! - if it got you to come back.

“Don’t leave me, love. Don’t leave me…”

-*-

Ace always enjoyed beach parties in the summer. Spirits were high, people were cheerful, and there was always more than one girl willing to go somewhere else with him. Somewhere away from the party where they could have fun.

This party, though, he expected to be different. 

He couldn't help but try his luck with you again. Maybe if he kept hanging around you, you could start to see him as more than just a friend. Heaven knew that you two shared the sexual tension of an uncut red wire in a spy movie: just ready to explode at any given moment. 

He knew he could be smooth, suave, and charm his way into your heart. Even if it took you a while, he was willing to wait. Now that he'd found you, he was not so willing to lose you.

But none of the smoothness of the universe, nor all the charm in the world, could have prepared him for the vision of loveliness that you provided. Lulled by the soft splashes of the waves and the echoing calls of gulls, you stood at the edge of the ocean, sunbathed and glowing as if you were something out of a myth. Your hair blew in the wind and your eyes were closed, keeping out all the chaos of the outside world and losing yourself inside your mind.

A silent tear escaped your closed eyelids and a soft smile plastered upon your lips. He would take this sight with him to the grave because he had never seen anything - or anyone - so perfect.

He almost felt out of place as he called your name, slowly waking you to the reality of the party and his company. But he felt entirely whole when you grabbed his hand and watched the sunset by his side.

You belonged together. He knew that. And he fought hard against the urge to pull you close.

The perfect moment ended too soon and the party continued. He kept being requested by friends, and girls and more friends and once he made his way back to you, he was already a bit tipsy and you seemed more than upset with him.

Plus, you didn’t even have the matching bracelet he bought you.

Not only was he jealous of Sanji and the smiles you shared with the blonde, but he was once again reminded that he meant nothing to you, as you slithered out of his embrace, albeit with a lot of rubbing and sinful looks, but not one single sympathetic glance his way. You were pissed.

At him.

And that was perfectly clear once he saw that bastard Lucci rubbing against you at the dance floor. Jealousy took over, and he decided to pay you back in kind, not knowing if you would really care, but he couldn’t sit still and watch another guy flirt with you.

It was driving him insane.

Obviously Nami knew all the right ways to rile people up, and soon enough he was kissing one of the girls at a game of truth or dare. She was annoying, clingy, had a shrill voice, smelled of tobacco and felt so wrong against him. But you were busy as Lucci was whispering into your ear, so he had to keep up the facade. 

Until he couldn’t any more. Because when Nami dared you to kiss Lucci and you acquiesced - oh, look at that, you actually had the bracelet, it was just him that wasn't good enough to touch you - the fire in his belly roared and ignited into a hellish flame and he couldn’t take it anymore.

So he left to vent. He didn’t even care if you went home with Lucci.

Liar. 

He cared, obviously. It would kill him and tear his heart into tiny, irreplaceable pieces. But he was just a friend to you. Right?

Maybe not, because you came after him, arguing as if you were two crossed lovers, seeing who could scream louder and who was pettier. Until he spoke aloud about the desire he felt to kiss you. And you dared him to.

Time stood still and there was only you and him. You in his arms and his lips on yours. Tongues swirling as hot kisses ignited the embers of passion. Fuck, he had never felt like this. You were consuming his very being and he wanted to burst into ashes and disappear into your kisses. 

This was perfect. You were perfect. You and him together were perfect.

And how he hoped nothing could ruin it. 

Until it did.

-*-

As soon as the fire truck stops, its sirens blaring, and lights casting reflections against the puddles on the floor, Luffy rushes to Ace’s side, his expression turning into pained surprise once he sees you breathless and looking quite frail in his brother’s arms.

“Ace!” He manages to sputter, a distressed wail escaping his lips.

���One… two… three…” Two breaths. Nothing. “Luffy! The EMTs?” He doesn’t stop. He never stops.

“They were right behind, they should be here any second… Ace…”

Luffy sets a hand on Ace’s shoulder and squeezes. But Ace doesn’t want to stop. He won’t give up on you. Not now, not ever! You were so hard to win over, he’s not a quitter! He will never quit on you. Ever!

“Come back, Firestarter. I need you…”

-*-

He was never a quitter, so he didn’t stop calling and texting you, trying to reach you after that disaster at the beach party. He didn’t want to be with any other girl. He just wanted you. Always you.

So he didn’t quit.

He called Shanks and asked about you, if you were alright, if you could call him back, but when Shanks told him that you didn’t want to speak with him and told him to go to hell, he faltered. He thought about quitting.

You were so pissed at him.

Would you even listen to what he wanted to say? He knew apologies wouldn’t cut it, but he had to try. He couldn’t bear the thought of you hating him, or shutting him out. Of never wanting to speak to him again, for how could he live without your voice, your smile, your laughter?

He’d had a taste of you. He was addicted. He would never give you up.

Going by Shanks’ house might not have been his brightest idea, but it was the best he could come up with since you didn’t want to talk to him and had been avoiding him all day. When Shanks told him you still didn’t want to see him, he saw red. How could he make it up to you?

To help with the racking guilt and despair, Shanks was also pissed at him for hurting his babygirl. Like he would ever do that willingly. It took Ace a while, but he managed to clear the facts with Shanks and to assure him that his intentions towards you were the most honourable ones. 

He loved you. And he told Shanks that. He told him he had never, ever, felt this way about a girl before and, after some coaxing, Shanks finally believed his words. He even said he would try to plead his case. 

Which was true, because after a few hours he called Ace saying you were stranded in the middle of nowhere and you needed a ride. Then he gave Ace a full speech on responsibility and treating his little girl right and a bunch of other stuff Ace didn’t really listen to.

All he knew was that he had his chance to apologise. To make it right. To win you over.

And he’d be damned if he let that go.

So you talked, he apologised, you heard him and asked questions and he could feel you softening to him and getting closer to him. He had his shot at you. He wouldn’t miss it. 

And he didn’t. The night was perfect, you were perfect and, once again, he was reminded that together you were perfect. You made him promise not to break your heart. Hell, he didn’t even think about that. He never wanted to let you away from his arms, from his lips or from his touch. Let alone drive you away for something random. 

He was yours and you were his, in the sense that he knew he couldn’t live without you by his side, nor did he want to spend a day without your voice, or your smile or hearing your breath. 

Eternity. That’s what he would like. An eternity with you.

Was it possible?

-*-

“No, no, no! This is impossible, it can’t be happening! Loof, where are the EMTs!?” Ace’s desperate voice is charged with agony and despair, rubbing it off on his brother who has kneeled down next to you and taken over chest compressions for Ace.

As if answering his own question, an ambulance screeches to a halt next to the fire truck, and two EMTs rush out, gear in hand, and make their way to your side. 

“Ace, she’s drenched. They can’t use the defibrillator like this. We need to move her inside the ambulance.”

“Fuck!” Ace curses, his frustration palpable as he continues performing CPR. He never stops, he can’t stop.

-*-

Your voice was so sweet beneath him, asking him not to stop, to go harder, to give you more, please, please, please.

Your mewls and pleas, your body writhing with passion and desire, your little gasps and beads of sweat glistening between your breasts.

God.

He couldn't get enough of you. You were so addictive.

He didn't want to let you go. Ever. 

-*-

The EMTs transfer you to a gurney with the help of Ace and Luffy and quickly move you inside the ambulance. Ace feels an icy chill, and he knows it’s not from the relentless pouring rain.

He’s scared. He’s terrified. 

He doesn’t want to lose you. He never wants to let you go.

-*-

Somehow the bliss that had surrounded you both fell apart quickly and Ace’s left to wonder what happened. You were having the sweetest of dates and the ending would promise so much more. He was ready to tell you he loved you.

He didn’t even care if it was too soon.

All he knew was that he was bursting at the seams with feelings of yearning, longing, passion, desire and so much love. He needed to tell you. Even if you didn’t feel the same yet. He was willing to wait.

He would move mountains for you.

You were worth the wait.

-*-

The wait seems endless. The EMTs are cleaning your chest as best as they can before applying the defibrillator. Seconds tick by relentlessly.

Realistically, Ace knows that he’s only been performing CPR on you for around five minutes before the EMTs arrived. He knows it seems like it was much longer, but it wasn’t. 

What he doesn’t know, however, is how long you stood without breathing in your wrecked car. And that can improve or impair your odds significantly.

And Ace, despite his name, has never had much luck with gambling.

-*-

He hated games of chance. Whatever he betted on, he always ended up losing more than he gained. And now he was so afraid that his loss would be the biggest one yet. And the hardest one to recover from. 

You needed time to process. 

The girl you spoke with planted the seeds of doubt deep in your mind and you were watering them with your thoughts and past traumas. Despite anything Ace told you, any demonstration of feelings, you were out of his reach for now.

Time to process.

What did that mean? Were you going to ghost him again? For how long? Could he endure it?

He could barely hold back tears as you climbed the steps to your porch and disappeared inside the house. How could he convince you that you were the one he wanted? No matter how many girls from his past came back claiming him?

None of them ever meant anything.

You were the one. 

The only one.

-*-

“Clear!”

Your chest heaves and your back arches as the jolt of electricity courses through you. Ace holds his breath the entire time. Silent tears framing his face, his freckles almost invisible against his pale skin. 

The EMTs carry on with the CPR and Ace climbs by your side, taking care to steer away from his colleagues, not wanting to hinder your rescue. 

His hand brushes your wet hair away from your face and he can’t help but notice how cold you feel. Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers your name, jaw clenching, fighting back tears, holding onto hope as if it’s the only lifeline pulling him through the void of despair and uncertainty. 

“I love you.” He whispers into your hair. 

He can’t lose you.

It’s too much to bear and his heart's already breaking apart. He can almost hear it shattering: a fragile sound like crystal, delicate and sharp, splintering into countless irretrievable pieces.

He won’t give up.

Not now.

“You’re the one. The only one. You always have been.”

His words seem final but he isn’t resigned. He can’t live a life without you. It’s too much. Too painful, too meaningless. 

His eyes close, and a distressed wail escapes his lips as an eternal silence surrounds you both.

Until you gasp, inhaling a deep breath, your hands flailing as you blink, adjusting to the light and the sounds. Life breathing back into your lungs, you begin to feel the slow but unmistakable return of awareness, each breath bringing clarity to the fog of unconsciousness.

But you’re not alone.

Ace is there. Ace is with you. 

He will always be with you.

[romcomeon]

⌞ 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 ! ⌝

⨾ honey, are you coming. can't help that it's worth it.

⨾ she's a '90s supermodel. sfw version, barbatos x gn!mc, obey me x måneskin, electricguitarist!mc, we got an awestruck + lovedrunk combo for the butler with this one, established relationships, mildly suggestive, song fic? there are lyrics of the songs sprinkled throughout. use of they/them pronouns, use of petnames [dearest, baby]

⨾ i'm beggin', beggin' you. wc ≈ 3.0K

⨾ sip the gossip. very short. very unserious. last-minute barbatos gift cus i wasn't able to finish the type i error fic. happy birthday barbi, i present to you the metalhead partner of your greediest fantasies/j oh and yes this was a reupload, since this early in the morning i wanted to fix this a bit, so pardon for that ;v;

You can't deny yourself the pleasure of different genres.

A contrast that sticks out: when you expected one instance from something, but the result shows one that is significantly different. The thing is, it can 't just be good or not; it all depends on how you take it. Sometimes, it makes you wonder what songs they play at the palace of so-called miseries.

How there's a long multitude of music to enjoy for each and everyone. It's universal, per say, and as refine as other music is sought out to be, sometimes all you ever desire has to unleash the inner turmoil burning deep within your chest.

It didn't have to be real, it just had to feel real.

⸻⸻⸻

The riff, the bass, starting notes shifting from F#5 to C#5: all were familiar harmonies to Barbatos' ears. It's odd, as usually festivities didn't start around the rising moon. Ideally around noon to account for preparations, though some would opt to drown their worries in the morning to fully immerse themselves in celebration at night.

He never anticipated waking up to the sound of speakers blaring the strongly magnified tones to breach the walls of the Demon Lord's Castle. He never imagined hearing static transforming into rhythmic tunes, with certain notes switching and playing in an alluring sequence. He, for one, never imagined for such music to play so strongly; drawing him out his bed as these notes dragged the butler by an invisible rope.

While he can and could predict it, Barbatos doesn't mind. He would put away all his power and oneself if it meant obtaining 'utmost satisfaction'.

As it was five in the morning along the Devildom clock. Around a time the earliest of early birds would wake up, yes, although most would be tucked to sleep; especially fellow RAD attendees where classes start 9 o'clock on the dot. Yet something compelled a glance out the window, a need to see something— confirm reality or cease the imagination.

It's not that he was compelled to check if the song itself was correct. Frankly, it was plainly obvious even to a casual listener. If you have a trouble discerning a song from many others as "all instrumentals sound the same" even when the latter song could be pitched at an octave higher, the lyrics reinforced that assumption.

"What's your thoughts about religion?" the voice growled out. Stable yet shaky, all while keeping a snappy tempo. As if each word paused right by a period or comma; semicolon or dashes while repeating the same set of harmonics for every subsequent syllable. "Are you close to your mother?"

Hook him by word of mouth, entrance him by the tongue. It feels so good — almost frightening.

Jade eyes momentarily widened, blinking. Barbatos had to pull the red curtain away to get a better glimpse. The sky stood still, vaguely illuminated by the neon city lights. You were standing on what appears to be one of Diavolo's unused vehicles: he could tell from the long angular model, the nonreflective maroon surface, and the firing golden plate number at its front. Hidden within dark igneous clouds, light tried seeping through every chance it got. Through hellish landscapes, you looked heaven sent.

"Tell me 'bout your dream vacation, and all of your ex lovers," the line delivery followed by the subtle click of your tongue. Immediately after that you had to move your fingers along the guitar strings as if you didn't want him to catch a break.

As if the moon abides in your favour, the light illuminated was enough to cast an iridescent spotlight. The white perfectly spit from turquoise and pink, hitting your sweaty cheeks and crinkled yellow shirt. While your five-year-old and counting electric guitar shone back most of the light, you were basked in it. Others reflect these colors, yet you embody them like crystalline gems.

Barbatos had to be honest, he gasped at the moment you whipped your hair back while seemingly losing yourself to the music.

"Is it..." the butler whispered to himself. He couldn't perish the thought of reality. You were there, right before his eyes, performing on stage but trapped in your own psychic tapestry.

In moments notice, he'd stand there frozen. The human, beloved by many, master of the avatars, representative of humanity, was strumming along to the guitar like a maniac. The long wires connected to large speakers, and not only that, you had a mic. A working microphone stand.

Many thoughts circled is head, and before one knew it, he had already been perched up at the balcony. Still in his sage green slacks, he clung to the marble ridges of the railing.

Tell him, what's that look on your face? The widest grin with a smile that reaches your eyes, added to furrowed brows while you squint to not get too blinded by the light.

"He puts his hands on his hips, begging 'please end this conversation'..."

The speakers thump to your every word, and all remains from the night before rolled up to a perfectly adorable little summary. For one, the shirt you wore irked the faint smell of Barbatos' cologne, and how it had stains along its seams.

You forced the mic closer to you, your legs tapping along to the music. "Baby said, 'when you talk, and I go dead' 'just your mouth, give me your head."

All it did for the ever growing fire in your soul to ignite was seeing him break into a smile. His elbow on the railing, his resting the side of his face on his had. You knew he'd really want this.

Does he deserve it? My my... You're a diamond.

Alone at parties in a deadly silhouette, it came to a drastic surprise when those who aren't too familiar with the Lord's butler had an affinity for such genre. Truly, they have never seen him in such a state of ecstasy.

Barbatos never seemed to be one to find things 'fun'. Delightful? sure. Exquisite? of course. Immaculate? perhaps. Enjoyable? Thrilling? Remarkable? There could be a whole manuscript of words, but 'fun' ousted itself like a young seedling amongst great trees.

Rarely has he ever reserved time for himself, and it is usually as a request from others. Not that he doesn't see the value in taking a break; he will surely indulge in it himself if necessary. But in Barbatos' eyes, it isn't practical.

In contrast to Diavolo, whose childish demeanor outshines his princely duties - much to the council's dismay - Barbatos was his guide. As Lucifer might've been the voice of reason who often takes responsibility for nearly triple quarter of the devil's work, Barbatos was a guiding light: an observant to be sure that no path goes astray. It was never not expected that others have a rigid view of his character, much less consider his other likes.

Yet why betray him the privilege of enjoyment? He truly hoped your perception of him didn't end there. If it did - how pitiful.

When he's particularly upset, he'd brew up the finest tea to the brash melodies of rock and metal. The serene atmosphere of golden highlighted crimson wallpaper, the smell wafts itself in the air with how small skulls shape themselves from the steam. And as you enter such a display, the first ever sound you'd here was the excruciating, hinting deathly scream of a low, raspy voice from the record player.

And he'd look up from sipping his tea, offering you a smile that only emphasizes his hospitality.

It wasn't practical, which was why he blends his favourite past times with his usual tasks. He didn't have to be in such a down mood for one to hear the snaring of drums and loud guttural growls from the castle's kitchen. Starting off with the Devildom's version of metal: rather hellish and would break the average mortal's ears by the first second. It's a special earful if you got the singles that sung it in their faction's native language. Though Latin would be Barbatos' preference "et in hora mortis nostrae".

That changed upon the introduction of human world rock. It's shallower, mellower to the ones he and any other demon is used to. But it's different. It doesn't necessarily channel a destructive output, yet it was a good change of pace.

That was far before you two started dating.

Months thereafter his adoration for the vividly wild instrumentals and appreciation to each throat-wrenching strain gradually grew. You knew that. When you're not looking, he's etching records of your song to always and forever, remember, Was there a moment where he'd skip a chance to listen to you practice? He'd always make time.

Until then, the little D's watch as the, once more, renowned butler of the castle wiggling his hands along imaginary strings, too deep in the moments as he waits for the kettle to boil. They admit, it was a rather endearing sight.

"Yeah, he's a master. Compliments!!" they'd all cheer. On occasion, Diavolo would witness these brief minutes himself. Actually? He'd watch silently before Barbatos quickly comes back to his decorum upon the sight of the prince.

Besides, it was more than enjoyable. Listening to him say the words "let me taste your silhouette, you can talk between my legs" was extremely entertaining. You wouldn't necessarily hear him say the exact words in person and that was the point, it was a form of expression.

What can the prince say? The tea tasted better when made with passion. And after that was the start of a normal day; well aware, the usual. This was a routine that everyone can get by on.

Just what felt like millennia ago, you and him were alone in one of the corners of the classroom. Free period; better to finish some additional seat work, though at this time you didn't feel like doing it. It just so happens to also be the hour where Barbatos was also free, so you'd consider this a win.

"Put your lovin' hand out baby," you spoke in a sing-song voice, extending your hand towards the butler. You sat on the wooden chair, your free arm lays on the backing as you leaned forward to resting your chins along your elbow. You legs wide opening to be able to sit in such orientation when the back was now the front.

Your darling only shook his head. "For sure you can do better," he teased, speaking in an every so slightly cocky tone.

You pouted your lips, cocking your head to the side. "But, baby, let me."

"You spoil yourself," Barbatos said. The legs of the chair scraped against the floor as he pulled it closer to you, finally sitting down at your side, close enough that your knees brushed against each other. You felt his presence near, and for a moment, it distracted you from the nagging thoughts in your head. You'd think you'd beg for more, but also something had been circulating your mind. August was near, and so far you.. needed confirmation.

You leaned back slightly, your fingers tapping absent-mindedly on the chair's back as your thoughts drifted. "I heard you've been listening to that band I recommended," you said, shrugging a bit.

It wasn't too long when you first recommended him Måneskin. Consider yourself the next Thomas Raggi, all the same you're confident enough in your skill level. You'd practice their songs in secret, hoping that, just once, you'd be able to perform for a single audience. You'd play it hard and fast 'cus you had everything.

He raised an eyebrow "Ah," his curiosity piqued. "I see the news has reached you as well."

"Gossip. And it's near obvious." You spoke with a hum, standing up from your chair. Still leaning onto it for support, your knees against the rounded edges. "So, what song are you listening to?"

That was a billion grimms' worth question. Barbatos paused for a moment, carefully considering his answer. You watched as his green eyes glance back at you, the subtle movement of his green hair flowing along to the tilt of his head in your direction.

"Hmm.. and why would you wish to know?"

You pouted again. " Please? "

Barbatos sighed. Truly, he was not exempted from any request when it was especially you. "Since you asked so kindly, then I shall."

All ears up, you listen to his words carefully. While not especially a favourite, he admitted: "Baby Said".

You nodded along in understanding, thinking on how to practice this while your subconscious human turn to your own depiction of the said song's instrumental. Only one thing was on your mind on that moment — "ohh.. good taste."

You hadn't even noticed him leaving the room, too focused to listen to the ongoing conversations. Your fingers snap themselves to the beat of the song; well the electric guitar had always been the highlight.

To think you held his heart captive twice in a row was a near understatement. Even so, it takes a lot of meticulous and carefully curated, well-thought-out actions to effectively hide surprises from Barbatos. Seriously, you wonder how he's well aware of everything, powers aside. It's not like he always uses it.

You felt shivers from the night before. His taste lingering from your tongue, the blurry memory of his hands tracing the side of your body. How you had to cover yourself with the large satin blanket, trying to at least be a bit modest.

It was a miracle how he managed to have a bed in a room filled with hexes, portals to other universes and other forms of magic. Amidst all the unsightly elements, his room was tidy.

Though you aren't the most careful of individuals. Loosening yourself from his iron grip wasn't enough, but to do so without moving too much was beyond a hassle. Furthermore, sliding off the bed instead of lifting yourself up felt as if waking him up would be the end of you.

Nonetheless, it was partly manageable.

You had no choice. Beggin' and prayin' you hadn't caused that much of a mess. You also cleaned out a few of your valuables out of courtesy- if you were able to identify them to begin with. The mix of whole and shredded fabric in a dim lit room should be a crime in itself.

That should answer most of the embarrassing questions. You hopes that he wouldn't mind a more... well, residents say "annoying" or "unethical" which was a whole irony in itself, but for you you can just refer to it as: convenient.

And it was worth it.

Your eyes looked back at your beloved, whose attention dangles from above the balcony. You couldn't help it, you just had to let out a playful scoff at that.

Ignore the microphone, the gardens were your amphitheatre. No static can overcome the sudden impulse to surge through the buildup. To let all realms hear your hearts-and-tears rendition. It may cause a strain in your voice, but you didn't care.

"I wish he didn't but my baby said!"

Pools of pink and gold swirl in your irises. A sharp, crazed look adorned your otherwise earthly features. There's the insanity oozing itself out your system, prying out the shell it had been oh so desperate to break every since you started practicing the song. Was it a month or two? A concrete timeline didn't matter; your feelings hated the waiting.

Sing him praises over and over, it's music to both of your ears.

Repeat lyrics as if the last one wasn't loud enough. Louder. Until heaven knows your voice will experience hell for days.

Moments after your song finished you jumped out of the car to immediately greet your lover as he opened the door to the castle. You could see him, always presenting him prim and proper, now a bit disheveled from the stereo beat of his heart.

You chuckled, flipping your hair as you placed a hand on your hip, "did you like it?"

With one final inhale, Barbatos recomposed himself once more. Standing up straight, fixing up his sleeves; though one notable difference was how relaxed his expression had become. How his smile has gotten wider, lightly touching the corner of his eyes.

"I'm flattered you think so fondly of me."

You rolled your eyes, raising a brow as you leaned your back against the door of the car. "And miss out? Please, I can never do this again now, hmm?"

The latter simply nodded, closing his eyes as he raised a hand to his chin. "You're correct on that assessment."

"Heh.." you huffed out. You got up and started walking towards Barbatos, placing a hand on his shoulder and the other caressing the sides of his face. It's as if no amount of emotions you poured out earlier would encompass all of what you simple adore of this butler. You could hear the distant complains of elder demons, though they are easily dismissed. For now, you leaned closer to give him a small kiss on the cheek.

"Happy Birthday Barbi," you cooed. "'Love ya."

Barbatos simply nodded his head once more. Grabbing your wrist, he softly leans his cheek closer, encapsulated in the warmth of your hand. Even in the faintest voice, you could make out a small "thank you."

You startled him at first, but now that you finished your bedazzling serenade, Barbatos needed a time to breathe. How you'd notice your own reflection within his glossy eyes — from waking up to early or from the awestruck faxed you put him on? We will never know.

Barbatos pulled you closer, the feeling of his soft lips on yours sent an electrical chill down your spine. It caused you to shiver from shock, but slowly melt into it. It's one to express your gratitude verbally, but the swelling of emotion you caused him may have required a different outlet for output.

"I love you most, dearest."

A couple seconds to spare is more than enough to satiate a lover's requirement, though he'd gladly be greedy enough to want more. You can't make yourself oppose it; that's what your baby said.

note.s : take a wild guess on what time did i start writing this because, looking back, this feels like such a huge... opportunity. i promise that i'm working on type i error, it's just my schedule for the past few days had fucked itself over- but nonetheless, i'm happy that i was at least able to make something special ^^

again, this is more self indulgent than anything but please, it's barbatos. anyhow, that's all for now hehe~! also as promised to a certain someone, @youngwonhee here's your ping <3

2024 © dear-tortured-adam | dividers by cafekitsune

[podcaststatic]

where there is a galaxy there is life 🌌

[cherri-cola-soda]

(Cherri had always like storms, even as a kid in the city. He loved curling up somewhere cozy when the dust started blowing, he loved the scent of petrichor in the desert as he let the rain soak him to the bone. It was the only cold he didn’t mind, one they’d seek out until Pony dragged him back inside to get dried off and warmed up before he went all Polaroid.

But Cherri’s favorite thing had always been the lightning. He loved the rush of awe as he stared up at the raw power arcing through the air. It was beautiful, lighting the sky with bursts of light that you never saw anywhere else. Sometimes he wondered if that was because nobody else saw the colors in the lighting, or felt the static in the thunder, if that was why nobody else talked about it. He wasn’t sure, and right now, they didn’t care.

Right now, Cherri Cola stared up at the sky, grinning at the bright colors in the dark clouds as he held Kobra’s hand. It wasn’t raining, but it was cooler out and dark as holy energy spun in the air all around.

Cherri Cola is a part of the universe, not apart from it)

@k0bra-k1d

[sailoryooons]

Spider Web | JHS | (m)

☾ Pairing: Vampire!Hoseok x human!reader (afab)

☾ Summary: Playing games with vampires is a bad idea. Playing with Spiders is worse. 

�� Word Count: 1,976

☾ Genre: Supernatural, Predator/Prey, Established Relationship, Smut

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings:  Predator/prey dynamics, intense feelings of fear, reader is navigating a maze while unable to see at all, Hoseok taunting reader, minor injuries, explicit language, explicit sexual content including vaginal fingering, biting, dom/sub dynamics, subspace, feeling fear during sex, reader being both afraid and aroused and just going with it, implied relationship of some manner. 

☾ Published: Monday, January 15, 2024

☾ A/N: This might not be for everyone, but this is for me. This is not only self-indulgent but it was so fun to write. The third roll for the 100 Drabble Challenge was number 46 - Predator/Prey and I had the opportunity to do something that surprised me - write a piece of a universe that I’ve wanted to write since I was in middle school. You heard that right - I have an entire outline/idea of a dystopian vampire novel where vampires rule and humans live under them with a complex political structure and rebel human groups and class war etc. that I have wanted to write since middle school and when I rolled this tonight… I was like what if I just use that world. In that world there are vampire guards call The Web that are broken up into three categories: Spiders, Widows and Venoms and they all have different purposes. In this case, Hobi is a Spider :) I’ve considered turning it into a fic so… let me know if you’re interested odigjdoigjdofgij 

A/N 2: This is unedited and I wrote it in roughly an hour pls excuse the errors etc. I will look back over it in the morning and fix them okay soifjsoigj

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist ☾ 100 Drabble Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾ 

“The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout,” a voice echoes. Your heart slams in your chest as you press your fingers against the sides of the wall, trying to feel your way through the maze. “Down came the rain and washed the spider out.” 

You should be used to the dark. Your life has revolved around the dark from the moment you took your first breath. Born in the dead of night during the hour of the predator. As a kid, you didn’t quite understand the hour of the predator. All you knew was that it meant to stay inside and not leave the building no matter what.

When you were older, you learned that walls and locks do not keep out predators. The notion that they keep their hunt to a single hour of the night is ridiculous. Now you know that vampires only let people think that they’re safe outside of that single hour of every night.

Like everything in the city, it is an illusion.

Inhaling shakily, you try to calm your breathing. The thud of your pulse in your neck and the rattling of your heart in your ribcage is a dead giveaway to this predator. Fear puts you on a razor's edge. A tingling sensation skitters along your skin like static as you keep one hand against the wall and the other in front of you, each step careful.

You can’t see in the darkness of the maze. He can. 

The disadvantage isn’t far. He’s better than you at most things: sight, smell, speed, strength - sadism, to be sure. But still, you’ve managed to evade him for far longer than he would like, and despite his taunting, you know it’s irritating him.

You smile. For vampires, most things are prey. For Spiders, all things are. 

“Perhaps we should change the lyrics of the song,” Hoseok calls. The hair on the back of your neck stands up. He sounds only a few rows over, making you quicken your steps. You’re barefoot and the ground is cold, making you shiver as you go. “The Spider doesn’t get washed out, but the little human does.”

The hand reaching in front of you hits the wall. You inhale and turn left, letting your right hand skim the corner and press against the new wall. You’ve hit a dead end twice and lost your sense of direction, but Hoseok hasn’t caught up yet. 

The thought makes you grin. You’re better at these games than you used to be, and you’re able to make faster decisions now. You also have managed to learn a thing or two about vampires. Somewhere, your socks and shoes are sitting in other corners. You’ve also dropped a jacket, making the entire maze smell like you. 

“Ah, the mouse has left a shoe for me.” 

Your heart beats faster. You only dropped that shoe moments ago, which means Hoseok is close. Too close. You’re not even sure what will happen if he wins - it’s always different. 

“I hear your heart, Mouse.”

The momentary panic makes you walk into a wall, banging loudly. Hoseok laugh is carried down a maze hall, chilling your spine. You throat caution to the wind, breaking into a run though you cannot see anything around you. 

In the dark, colors and shapes taunt you, your imagination filling in the gaps for the things you cannot see. Running wild totally unable to see is a terrible idea, you could run into-

You slam into a wall and let out a pained sound. Pain shoots up your wrist and you whimper, cradling it to your hand. A hiss echoes behind you and you run again, bad hand tucked to your chest as Hoseok closes in. 

“Yes!” he growls, glee in his dark voice. “Run, Mouse! I love it when you run!” 

You hardly recognize his voice through the growl, bloodlust taking over. Your instincts perceive a wall and you jerk to the left, skidding as you go. A speck of light beckons you and you gasp, realizing you can see the way out of the maze. You never make it that far. 

Without hesitation, you take off at a full sprint, the soles of your feet slapping against concrete, your heart pumping in your chest. Just a little further, almost there.

Hoseok snarls behind you and you scream, a primal fear exploding inside of you as your instincts sense the danger behind you, all other thoughts and feelings blotted out by the sheer force of terror. 

A force crashes into you, taking you down. You squeeze your eyes shut, jarred and waiting for the harsh impact of the concrete. It doesn’t come, instead softened by the blow of falling into Hoseok as he twists, taking the brunt of the impact. 

You’re dizzy, world spinning as the adrenaline tingles in your veins, your entire body feeling like it’s on pins and needles. In the dim light of the concrete building, you make out the shape of Hoseok under you. It doesn’t last long, the vampire rolling and pinning you with an ironclad grip to the floor.

A cry slips out of your mouth before you can stop it. It riles him up, Hoseok pressing in on you. He smells like rosewood and lavender, making your eyes flutter as Hoseok pulls your head backward against the old concrete, your skull digging in painfully as he noses your pulse. 

“You lose, Mouse.”

Hoseok’s voice rasps against your throat. Fear-laced pleasure blooms in your stomach. Where his mouth ghosts against your sweaty skin feels good, his words buzzing through you as his lips skim your neck toward your jaw.

You don’t dare move - can’t move. This is the part that you don’t understand, but don’t have to. Your body thrums with the innate terror of death. Adrenaline pumps through your system, parts of your brain screaming and alerting your organs that you’re in danger.

But there’s another part of your brain that goes fuzzy when you feel Hoseok’s fangs drag against your jaw. You can’t make out his features in the barely-there light of the building, but you catch the silver flash of predator's eyes when he glances up at you.

Once upon a time that gaze made you nearly soil yourself in horror. Now the wetness between your legs is entirely different, caused by the hell your nervous system goes through as it straddles fear and desire. 

“I smell you,” Hoseok breathes. His tongue snakes out to taste your salty skin and you can’t help the sound that comes out of your throat. It is equal parts a whimper as it is a moan. His lips are pressed against your cheekbone as one of his hands skims down your body. “You almost made it out this time.”

The ability to verbalize anything is lost on you. You can only squirm underneath his touch, sparking to life like cut livewires. A violent shiver wracks through your body as Hoseok presses his hands between your legs, causing a pulse of want to unfurl. 

You want more. You want none of it. You want both. 

“Next time try dropping your panties,” he whispers, pressing hard, painful kisses toward your ear. He bites your earlobe sharply at the same time he presses your clothed cunt, plain and pleasure dancing together. “That would certainly do it.”

“Never thought of that.”

Hoseok’s hand ventures up and grabs the waistband of your pants, pulling on them with a loud rip. It’s almost drowned out by the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. 

Your limbs start to shake in excitement as Hoseok catches your mouth with his. The kiss is sudden and demanding, completely inescapable. You kiss him back, drowning in the flurry of sensations hammering down on you, scrambling your thoughts, destroying your feelings. 

It’s always like this. He’s always able to do this. Hoseok has made an art of building you up and cutting you open, scattering every thought to the wind as he hunts you and beds you. Here with him you might not be safe, but at least you don’t think about being out there and being unsafe. 

This spider web you weave with Hoseok is high stakes, high reward. At least here if he kills you, you’ll be smiling. Out there when you die, no one will care.

Hoseok’s fingers hook your underwear to the side and pull. Cold air hits your hot, weeping hunt and you wiggle under him, trapped under his oppressive weight. He half growls, half purs as his fingers swipe up your sticky folds, avoiding your clit where all the pressure feels trapped.

You kick your feet under him, pressing up. You want more. Need more. The more he gives you, the more you feel the high of whatever this is between you. Hoseok knows this and gives in, playing nice as his fingers dip into your clenching hole to collect wetness before drifting back up, circling your clit.

A sound that is barely human escapes you. Hoseok has you pinned firmly underneath him as he starts to play. He carefully drags his fingers up and down, tracing your tightening entrance before drifting back up to apply pressure on your bundle of nerves.

“Little mouse is desperate tonight,” Hoseok pants. When he speaks, you can feel the sharp drag of his fangs on your cheek. “I bet you wanted to be caught.”

You shake your head no and he laughs, sinking a finger into your waiting heat. A strangled moan escapes you. Everything is on fire and you feel your cunt clench around his fingers. The concrete beneath you is too hot, Hoseok is too firm, his fangs on your skin are too sharp, you’re half afraid and half aroused - it all turns you into a mess, your mind tiptoeing on the edge of a blade between two nameless abysses. 

Hoseok thrusts his fingers up into you at an angle, pushing against that spot that makes you teeter dangerously. Your nails dig into your palms, leaving bloody crescents as Hoseok fucks you expertly with his fingers, drawing you to the edge of madness as he does it. 

Just as you think you’re about to tip one way or the other and plunge into darkness, Hoseok presses his mouth against yours, words slurred as he mumbles, “Ask.”

“Please.” Your words are slurred against his mouth, your breath hot and sticky. “Please let me. I need it. I - Hoseok - please.” 

His pace quickens. His thumb presses on your clit, wiggling. You feel it coming like a spool spinning thread, going and going and going until the spindle snaps and the thread comes unwound, spilling into his hand with a scream. 

Your ears ring. Your mind blanks. Your body goes so taught that it's only option is to go limp. You are vaguely aware that you’re gasping for air - you feel it more than you see it. You melt into the ground, unaware of anything but the static in your veins and the rush of air through your lungs.

In out. In out. In out. In out. 

You drift in the abyss. You’re unsure which one you fell into. Here, you are weightless and calm. 

In out. In out. In out. 

Nothing can hurt you here. There is no such thing as pain. There is only absolutely nothing but your breath and the buzzing on your skin.

In out. In out. In out. 

Eventually it wears off. Hoseok is still a firm weight against you, an anchor pulling you back. Your thoughts are syrup-slow and dizzy when you lift your too-heavy head to look at him. You cannot make out his features, but you get the sense he’s smiling. 

“Did you think we were done?” he rasps, a laugh in his voice. “You’ve only just fallen into the spiderweb, Mouse.” 

[alta1red]

HAZBIN HOTEL . IMAGINE . II 'The Darling Artisan from the Clouds'.

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀 : [ NAME. ] Is exploring Pentagram City, and runs into a certain Radio Demon..

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 : [ NAME. ]'s luck might either be the worst, or the best no in-between . Alastor being a creep . OOC Alastor . Small amount of dialogue .

𝑷𝑻. : II.

— Well, congrats ! You somehow managed to avoid probably all the wrong kinds of people in Hell ( that being certainly 99% of its total population.. ) , was it due to sheer luck? Or by some stupid twist of fate something else awaits you in your path? Maybe, maybe not.

• As you wandered the streets of Hell and witnessed around One.. Hundred incidents of violence, abuse, prostitution, people getting mugged and drug dealing —You remained peaceful (?), ( you held your art matierials closer to your figure. ) although your inspiration did take abit of a dark turn in its source. Your cloak, and subtle presence helped you alot in hiding your angelic features .

• But your presence certainly didn't manage to slip by a certain .. Shadow Minion of a Radio Demon.

• 'It', 'He'? Observed you with careful precision, you certainly didn't think you'd be able to just waltz around in Hell unnoticed, did you? As you wandered mindlessly through Pentagram City blissfully and ignorantly prancing around as you gazed at horrid theatrics.

• How interesting ! Oh how 'His' smile got even wider ,

• As you accidentally bumped into people left and right in the Enertainment District, you always muttered small apologies —As if the reciever was even sober to hear it.

• Your manners were impeccable, how kind of you ! It's almost as if you don't belong here.

• 'He' knows you don't.

• You feel it, the feelings been gnawing at your back for awhile now.. Someone has been following you, and so that's why you were practically near a sprint as you ran through Districts, and Border zones —Fully debating on using your wings to get away from 'It' entirely, but weighing the pro's and con's were obviously needed before taking such a drastic option and life threatening decision.

• And since you didn't want to be hunted down, or even worse —Reported to the King of Hell, you took alleyways and random directions hoping to run away and have its sight's lose you. ( Dumb Decision. )

• Now DEAR. You didn't think you'd run away so easily now do you? After all, the site of an angel after the extermination was worrying ! How he wanted to try Angel Meat —However, he must introduce himself to you first !

• As you ran into another alleyway —" Shit! Dead end — "

• A dark murky shadow formed behind you, your instincts caused you to turn into fight or flight mode — Your halo glowed violently reacting potently from your panicked emotions,

— START OF MEMORY.

" No need to act so —violently, My Dear ! " The Demon's voice had a static filter —possibly done on purpose, he donned a transatlantic accent —He felt powerful, yes —but you've been enhancing your ability, even when Heaven was probably the most peaceful place in the entire universe, despite the fact Adam caused a ruckus every now and then —but he's already dead, so peaceful it was once more;

The Demon found your panicked expression comedic, hilarious, fun.

Like Prey facing Predator.

Could it be you felt fear? Panic? Whatever it was, it was certainly messing with your train of thought— you needed to rationalize yourself !

Talking a sharp breath and sucking it up, you then inquired — " I'm so sorry Sir, I was just rather startled .. " Your tone was geniune, yes —But your actions certainly told what you actually felt —Your hands quivered and beads of sweat started to form under the hood of your cloak.

" What a frightened Swan ! What's an Angel like you doing here ? " 'He' mused, relishing within your frightened presence. Your gaze turned cold as you felt your sweat turn freezing, your jaw slightly agape—

You looked at him before saying, " —

— END OF MEMORY.

• Your encounter with the Radio Demon was far from pleasant, but you wouldn't admit it. It's not nice to do so,

.

.

.

—FIN.