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bsdawgz · 3 months ago

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「 ✦ Please? ✦ 」 au! Bungo Stray Dogs: Atsushi Nakajima

a/n: been thinking about this for a while now, hope u enjoy!<3 mwah :*

genre: au! no abilities, college or grad school. da nasty w/ subby, camboy! atsushi 😏

content warning: f!reader. MDNI! male masturbation. atsushi typical low self-esteem ruminations + self-degradation (both in a kinky and non-kinky way). edging. online relationships (they’re twitter moots teehee).

summary: atsushi's always a good boy on camera, esp when he’s thinking about this one girl from his class ♡

– that girl is you… but of course, you don’t know that yet.

That light fixture. Those cedarwood floors. The white, speckled wall behind him. If you didn't know any better, you'd say this was one of your dorm rooms – but it couldn't be, right?

You're on your bed with your headphones on, blinds shuttered close, door locked. Your plush blanket is pulled up to your thighs. The room is dark, save for your phone screen, casting a glow on your face.

This is a private matter, after all.

"Is this thing on?"

In front of the camera is him, a mutual you've made from the n.sfw side of twitter, though this is the first time you're seeing his face of all things. He's unbelievably cute, in the most endearing sense of the word, with boyish features and a charming smile that makes you blush. "Hey guys," he says, and his voice sounds somewhat familiar, though you can't quite place your finger on where you might have heard it before. "I know it's been a while."

The numbers in his live go up by the second, chat animated now that he's active. His eyebrows scrunch together as he leans forward to read the comments. Most of them are already demanding he perform something lewd, but some of them surprisingly sweet, asking him how his day's been or complimenting him. He pays neither any mind – rather, his focus goes straight to you.

You almost jump as you hear him call out your username, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Oh, it's you!" he says with a cheeky grin. "Everyone say hi and follow them too~"

Naturally, you've seen his nudes before – he's amassed quite a following on Twitter posting his body. In fact, you were shocked when he had decided to follow back someone like you, who only ever reposted content or mused online about what kind of things you'd like to have done to you.

So, having a big creator like him even know you exist – let alone mention you on his live – has your face flushed with heat.

Thank god he can't see you through the screen.

"ofc:)" you type, watching as his followers greet you in the chat.

Then, you hear him sigh and relax into his chair. He pushes back the sweep of silver bangs, fingers playing thoughtfully with the strings of his sweatshirt as he browses through the comments on his computer screen. Your eyes widen when he murmurs in a voice so innocent, "So... you wanna see me stroke it now?"

He sounds so damn innocent – he's definitely got that 'boy-next-door' act down, and you can see why his streams get so much attention. You've never watched a stream before, so he has you pulling your blanket over your head, totally embarrassed as his voice drops to a whisper. "Mm, well, I wanna..." he muses, and through your headphones, it feels almost like his breath is in your ear. You watch as he trails his hand lower, down to the waistband of his gray sweatpants. "Been thinking about it all day, actually."

The numbers in his livestream go up.

You can feel desire pooling between your thighs as he teases himself, as he traces the outline that's becoming more and more apparent through his sweats. He's gazing down at himself sensually, watching himself grow with these half-lidded eyes, lips parted slightly and curved in a lazy smile. There's something angelic about his face, however sinful it might be to think so. "Can I tell you guys a secret?" he asks sheepishly, and you can almost make out a faint blush on his cheeks as he glances away from the camera, fingers dancing around the lean muscle of his abdomen. "There's this girl in my lecture hall that I can't stop thinking about.

I really want her... Pretty pathetic of me, huh?"

The chat goes wild with comments. Some users sexually degrade him, calling him filthy names; others say they'd gladly swap places with his classmate. He glances at the screen briefly, swiping his tongue across his lips as he browses through before choosing a few users to respond to. "I know, I'm a bit of a loser for that," he says with a soft laugh. Then, in a more serious tone, he adds, "But really, I could never... just thinking about her, honestly... she's just so...

Ah, sh-shiit..."

Freeing himself from his boxers, you're met with the sight of it in all of its glory, tip leaking with precum and pulsing with need. His breath hitches in his throat when he first wraps his fingers around it. You hear him hiss from his own touch; he looks away shyly as he strokes it once, as he gathers the moisture on his hand and pumps it up and down. Then, clamping his other hand over his mouth, these soft, sweet moans fall delicately from his lips as he thrusts his hips up to meet his fist – as he strokes himself faster and faster.

Just as soon as you think he's about to cum...

"Nngh, f-fuck – ..." he seethes, letting go of himself completely.

Holding back what sounds like something between a moan and a sob, he buries his face into his elbow, stammering out curses in between ragged pants; you catch a glimpse of desperate eyes before he throws his head back, palming the oversensitive tip until his body's shaking, pleasuring himself in a way that makes his hips lurch forward, in a way that brings him so close to the edge that he's just about ready to fall apart. "So good... wanna... c-cum..."

– and the chat floods with messages instantly.

x69princess96x: 'don't' _daddywuvsu_: 'you haven't earned it' milf9_32193: 'no way!!! 🙄' user704829103: 'beg for it'

"Please–" He's so tense that you can almost feel it through the screen. "Please... please, please..."

Then, his eyes flash with something you've never seen before in someone before – pure, animalistic want as his eyebrows knit tightly, as his lips part in need, as he pleads for release –

and he's looking straight at the camera, so sickening sexy. "Please, need it…"

You find yourself aching in your core, clinging to your screen with widened eyes when suddenly, you hear your username unraveling from his lips. "How about you... You'd... you'd let me cum, right?"

#BSDAWGZ #been thinking about this for a while now...#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs smut #bsd smut #bsd atsushi #bsd atsushi smut #atsushi smut #atsushi x reader #atsushi x you #atsushi x reader smut #bsd x reader #bsd x reader smut #bsd x reader atsushi #bsd smau #bsd smau smut

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inuhalfdemon · 6 months ago

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No One Can Know... (19/?)

Word Count: 4,505 Words

Rating: Mature (Sexual Content and Violence)

Chapter 19

"Are you insane like me?

Been in pain like me?

...

Are you deranged like me?

Are you strange like me?

...

And all the people say,

You can't wake up, this is not a dream

You're part of a machine, you are not a human being

With your face all made up, living on a screen

Low on self-esteem, so you run on gasoline

I think there's a flaw in my code..."

- Halsey

Some years earlier…

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Pentagram City, Pride Ring of Hell

1950

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Even Alastor would admit now that he had made mistakes in his earlier years in Hell. One of them being that he had decided to go out to the bar for a drink that night during the peak of one of his ruts.

He had let his work entirely consume his attention and his time. It had taken awhile for other Sinners and Hellborn demons to piece together that he was the one responsible for the toppling of some of the Pride Ring’s most powerful Overlords. Even after Alastor had begun broadcasting the screams via his own radio waves, his fellow denizens of Hell denied that someone so fresh to the rings could accomplish such an impressive upheaval to the status quo. The focus was always turned on some other Overlord – or possibly a royal of another ring. It took time for the rumors to spread and finally solidify, but now Alastor had truly made a name for himself.

Alastor shouldn’t have gone to the bar. Hell, he probably shouldn’t have been drinking. Now that others were coming around to the truth that he had been responsible for the incredible shift of power for their city; it made him feared, respected…isolated…but, it also painted a huge target on his back.

He had learned the nuances to surviving Hell quite naturally. Alastor had played this game on Earth during the years that he was living after all. The players were different….but, the rules were just the same. Both the standards and strategies he utilized then, worked well for him here too.

Still, Alastor had gone out that night; planning to indulge himself to a drink – wind down from the pressures of his recent establishment in status and suppress what he could of his neglected rutting. He was uncomfortable; sexually frustrated and irritable but he planned to endure it for some time yet.

If he had ever truly wondered if Hell existed to punish Sinners; his mating cycles confirmed it for him. His ruts were almost custom tailored to torment him. He had had less than zero interest in the act of procreating while he was alive so it only seemed karmically fitting that he would be plagued by the urges regularly now.

He was seated at the bar; finishing his whiskey and just deciding that it was time to go when the scent struck him and he stiffened where he sat.

A female Cervidae demon – a doe – had entered the bar. The bouncer at the door had allowed her and two incubi to enter the establishment. The incubi, chatting with each other continued on toward the working bartender – ordering drinks; while the doe paused. She tilted her head to the side, long deer ears tweaking and turning before she jerked her eyes to Alastor’s.

She was a pretty, petite thing. Any other stag that laid eyes on her would have been sweating… Alastor wasn’t sweating but he was growing more uncomfortable; feeling a twitching tightness between his legs. She wasn’t just a pretty doe…she was a receptive one.

Pheromones wafted to him from the doe as she turned for him, approaching with open confidence. He felt his body responding to this new development and he cursed himself for having not just stayed at home.

Normally; Alastor declined sleeping with anyone who approached him as a precaution. He had already had one degenerate try to drug him while he was rutting and he knew that there also existed synthetic pheromones created to lure Cervidaes into problematic situations. Alastor – too - avoided females as a rule…not because of any particular sexual preference but because he abhorred the idea of having to use any respectable woman for such a means-to-an-end.

The doe slid up beside him, lithely lifting into the stool beside him at the bar and smiling at him.

“So the up-and-coming radio demon is a true Cervidae.” She perked her long ears toward him. “I always wondered.” Her voice lilted to him. “Some stags have got the antlers…but, they don’t have a musk quite like yours.” She tilted her head again; closing her eyes she drew in a deep breath. Opening her eyes again; she stared back at him with large, dilated black discs.

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Alastor couldn’t recall the exact steps that got them both into her bed together; completely unclothed – only that it happened and that his body was betraying him in the most treacherous of ways.

Wrapped together; Alastor was kissing her – hands and mouth hungrily exploring her as he began to work his way down. Her scent was overwhelming him; escalating his libido. Every instinct was telling him to have her, to claim her, to breed her. He was so lost in his amorous occupation that he didn’t see the movement or hear the sounds that she made – reaching for the knife.

The only thing that saved him was his shadow.

Slipping the dagger from a slit she had made to the side of her mattress; she had angled the blade so that when she brought it down, it would plunge deep into the side of Alastor’s open and exposed neck. Just before she could make her strike; Alastor’s shadow alerted him to the danger – pulling away from him and catching her by the hand before it was done.

She gasped; surprised by this sudden resistance and her form wavered.

Alastor held perfectly still; only his head lifting from where he had been sucking softly at her heated skin – trailing down her breasts and moving toward her abdomen - when he had responded to his shadow and froze all movements. His eyes glowing red and burning in the dark; his wide smile stretched tight across his face.

“Do we have a problem...my dear?” he asked her cooly, eyes narrowing sharply.

Her eyes widened; a cold fear touching her face. She jerked and struggled against the hold of his shadow; shrieking in her frustration when she couldn’t get her hand or the knife to give an inch.

“You are a very skillful mimic, I must say…” Alastor told her; still unmoving and eyes fixed to her face. “Even for a succubus. Your pheromone, your behavior was all…quite authentic. One wonders how you learned such distinct characteristics.”

“Fuck you,” she hissed.

“I’m afraid I’ve lost the interest,” Alastor told her quietly. He tilted his head, getting a good look at the dagger – still held stopped by his shadow - posed directly for him. “An angelic dagger…why, it seems you fully intended to kill me.” His smiled widened.

“He promised to release me from my contract…if I did,” she gasped. Desperate, she started fighting to pull her hand back now, rather than trying to drive it forward.

“Who did, my dear?” Alastor asked her quietly, politely. He was trying to stay calm. It took a great deal of power for him to channel to his shadow for it to perform corporeal tasks; he didn’t have much time.

She laughed; no longer struggling, she lay back.

“Even the great and powerful radio demon won’t ever get to know the answer to that.” Her voice tinkled- mockingly - back at him. “Now…where were we?” She asked him sweetly and her pheromone began to drift off of her in waves.

“I think that you might find that I’m less susceptible to those types of persuasions than other demons,” Alastor told her darkly – a complete lie.

She laughed again; calling his bluff, she started shifting and rotating her hips against his fully erect length.

“Seems to me that your plenty susceptible to my persuasions,” she purred back at him.

“Stop it,” Alastor hissed suddenly. Eyes glowing brighter.

“Ha!” she smirked. “You stags are all the fucking same.”

“You need to stop this!” Alastor was growling; he was starting to lose himself. “I could…I could very easily kill you.”

“A little more persuasion from me and you’ll be so ruttish that you’ll only have one thing left on your mind before I plunge this dagger into that pretty little neck of yours.”

Alastor’s body had gone rigid; fighting against pure and feral instinct.

He was desperately fighting himself for control, but he was very much losing the battle.

He had lost himself to his rut before…in his earliest of years in Hell…it happened a few times; he hadn’t really known what his body was doing during these cycles – what it needed. He had inadvertently killed other demons…He didn’t lay much blame to himself for what happened – back then; he hadn’t known, hadn’t been made aware of what his ruts were or the consequences of avoiding satiating his needs. What’s more, the demons he had killed may very well have deserved it.

But, this…this felt different somehow.

Alastor knew himself better; knew himself during his ruts better. He had a standard for killing and though this succubus meant him harm, she didn’t fit into his well-maintained moral code. Sensual abilities aside; Alastor knew that he could easily overpower her. She was acting out of fear and desperation; not out of her own malicious or ill intent. He had irresponsibly allowed himself to be made susceptible and though she wasn’t necessarily an innocent…he knew she wouldn’t deserve the end that he would give her.

He was blacking out. He felt a rippling shudder run up his spine – throughout his body. He caught one last glimpse of the sharpened dagger pointed for him, her smiling face…

His final and only thought he had before he fully succumbed was:

Please…

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When Alastor awoke, it wasn’t to anything that he was surprised to find.

There was gore…everywhere.

The amorous beast he became when he was full bore into a neglected rut fed its hunger and it fed well.

Standing naked, bathed in blood and looking dazed around the room, Alastor felt a distinct shame and disgust, but only for himself…

He wouldn’t clean the mess…it would serve no purpose. If anything, it left a clear and distinct message.

Alastor never learned for certain who it was that had targeted him but, he had his suspicions. An old and powerful Overlord oversaw one of the biggest brothels and sex trafficking operations to ever exist in all the rings of Hell. His business dealt in forming contracts with Sinners and Hellborn alike; allowing him to offer his services to anyone and everyone all throughout Hell.

If anyone had an out for the new radio demon…someone who was well versed in the mating cycles of Cervidae demons – and having those kind of resources - it would be him.

Alastor already meant to go for the Overlord. He held nothing against the industries of sex – it didn’t interest him, but then few other professions ever did. This Overlord though…he exploited his power, hunting and preying upon the miserable and the desperate – subjecting them to some of the worst things anyone could ever imagine. It wouldn’t do.

When Alastor finally caught up to him; effectively shutting down the Overlord’s entire business venture – he took his sweet time in castrating the fucker. Tearing apart his soul – harvesting the man’s screams - Alastor watched it disappear in tattered and torn pieces as everything was sucked into the ever-lengthening air waves that traveled all throughout Hell.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Some years later…

[A sequence of events leading up to our present day of events in Hell…]

--------------------------------------------------

Alastor continued to play the game by its rules and he only got better at it.

When he decided to pay the fresh new Overload to Hell a visit; Alastor had well established himself as the radio demon – widely known as an unpredictable, mysterious and violent monster of chaos.

Alastor had heard the rumors; the whispers of this new…television demon.

He found little entertainment by only what he could glean from the developing gossip and Alastor always made a point in finding out more about any potential, up-and-coming Overlord that entered into Hell as a new player.

Walking home alone one night; Vox was lost in his thoughts when the streetlamp just ahead of him began to flicker. He lifted his eyes; his attention caught by the movement of light - seeing Hell’s radio demon standing directly below the beam that suddenly stilled and brightened in the dark.

Vox stopped; his posture set straight and unyielding. He waited.

Alastor stood, perfectly at ease – his hands resting folded atop the microphone of his staff, ears straight, and a long, wide smile stretched crazily across his face. He beamed back at Vox, merely titling his head curiously when the demon made no move or word toward him.

“What do you want?” Vox asked him, coldly. His heart was in his throat. He had never seen Alastor before but he knew very well who this demon was; what he was known for.

Alastor’s smile widened.

“Forgive me my rudeness, dear fellow.” Alastor chimed happily. “But, I must say…I was very curious. I am very interested in seeing how might handle yourself in a precarious predicament and, well…curiosity – it is said - has led to a dead cat, you know.”

Vox flicked his hand; claws opening and sending sparking static through his fingers. He wasn’t going down without a fight.

“If you’re here for my screams, then you better be ready to fucking take them from me.” Vox tensed; readying himself.

Alastor laughed jollily. “Oh, I’m not here to harm you, you silly chap.” Alastor grinned. “I’m merely a spectator. It’s them that you should be having discussions with.” Alastor nodded; tilting his head to the shadows of an alleyway that laid shrouded in darkness; just beyond Vox’s back.

Suspicious; Vox carefully stepped so that he kept Alastor in view while also affording himself a better look into the dark alley. Alastor chuckled darkly; shifting the shadows – he lifted the shroud and five loan shark demons gave up their place of hiding – walking openly into the street.

Vox glanced at Alastor from the corner of one eye. Seeing that the Overlord seemed plum content to just stand there and watch - all with that stupid smile on his face - Vox decided to turn his attention to the sharks.

“Who the fuck are you guys, then!?” Vox demanded.

“Our boss sent us.” A hammerhead announced. “He says you’ve been encroaching too closely to his established territory…he wants to deliver a message.”

“Well, message received. Now, piss off.” Vox told them aggressively. “Tell your boss that I told him that he can piss off, as well.”

Two of the sharks were shaking their heads; slow smiles creeping across all of their faces.

The hammerhead laughed and a bull shark cracked his knuckles, bringing a fist heavily into the palm of one hand.

“It’s not a worded message that we were told to bring.” The hammerhead told him, his smiling widening to reveal rows and rows of sharp, pointed teeth.

Alastor smoothly drifted closer into shadow; reappearing closely next to Vox – grinning happily.

Vox nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Sending five loan sharks after one newly proclaimed Overlord…why, your boss is clearly threatened by this man.” Alastor pointed out with enthusiasm.

“You stay out of this, radio demon!” The hammerhead spat. “Our beef is not with you!”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“Careful, now…” Alastor kept the cheer in his voice, his smile tightening. “I do so abhor bad manners…”

The hammerhead opened his mouth; about to bite back a reply when bundles of wires were thrown forward – their cables sparking and flashing with jolts of electric energy.

One cable wrapped neatly around two sharks that had been standing close beside each other; coiling around both and pulling them tightly together. A series of deadly volts shot through their bodies before they were thrown through the air – sending them both crashing violently into the brick side of a building.

Another cable tangled itself all around the face of the bull shark; volts sparking across the cord and frying hotly through flesh, bone and brain.

A third cable swept heavily across the ground; felling the two remaining sharks – both landing hard on their backs before coils of wire were wrapping around their legs; pulling them toward both Overlords.

Vox lifted the cable that had snared the hammerhead; the loan shark swinging crazily high above them – struggling and yelling loudly.

“You want that one?” Vox offered Alastor, his other cable coiling more and more looping lengths around the final loan shark that lay at his feet.

“Gladly.” Alastor accepted; shifting form – his body lengthening and enlarging so that he easily reached where the hammerhead was being held suspended above him. He opened up his great mouth; huge and pointed fangs slick with strings of drool parting as Vox released the hammerhead to drop into the deep and open gullet.

Vox turned his attention to the loan shark struggling at his feet; sending shocks of electricity through the cable until the demon could no longer vocalize his pain or fear. Roughly; Vox pulled the cable back – unwinding and releasing the shark in a limp and pathetic heap on the ground. Then, flicking the wire – he drove the end into the side of the shark demon’s neck; the cable turning a vibrant and brilliant blue.

“You know…I can do some very interesting things with my cables.” Vox smiled darkly; enjoying the spreading fear he could see crawling across the shark’s face. “I can cause you to feel pain, of course…but something else that I can also do is cause you to feel pleasure.” The wire hummed and the loan shark buckled; a look of sudden euphoria spreading across his face. Vox brought out another wire; the end of it sparking and flashing with volts of hot and striking electricity. “Now imagine it…this thing that I could do to you…why, I could make it so that you are screaming for both of us to fuck you senseless as the life leaves your miserable body with the volts that I create.”

“I won’t be partaking in any of that, I’m afraid.” Alastor said; returning smoothly to form and dusting the sleeves of his jacket off. “I might watch though…if it all proves to be entertaining.” He flashed a wicked smile at the shark demon.

Vox detached the blue cable from the loan shark’s neck; pulling all of his wires back into his body.

“Go tell your boss that I’m not fucking around.” Vox commanded him. “But, I’ll fuck anyone around that chooses to trespass into my territory again. Now, like I said before: piss off.”

Vox turned away. Glancing at Alastor; he got one approving nod from the radio demon – a wide smile stretching across the established Overlord’s face before he drifted into shadow; leaving Vox to continue on his way back home.

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Years passed and both Alastor and Vox respected each other’s established territories; rarely crossing paths.

Meetings among the Overlords were much less frequent back then so when Vox made up his mind to track down and find the radio demon; it turned out to be a rather tedious task. As well known as Alastor was; he had his ways in making himself scarce.

Vox managed to glean some information in his efforts though; finding out that Husk was bartending in an establishment within a whole other district. If Husk was there; Alastor likely was too. Vox did not know Husk personally, but he knew - through the ever-lengthening grapevine - that Alastor had recently stripped the man of his incredibly short-lived status as Overlord.

No one directly knew the details leading to Husk now having to serve the radio demon at every beck and call, but the dots really weren’t that hard to connect either. Vox realized that he likely was very fortunate in not having drawn Alastor’s attention to himself further before…realized that prudency suggested that he forgo this undertaking entirely but, then did he really have much choice?

Vox entered the bar and sure enough; Husk was behind the counter expertly taking orders and sending drinks out promptly to all the patrons there. The night was still young, but the place was already busy. Seating himself toward the end of the bar; Vox ordered himself a Jameson ‘on the rocks’. Husk quickly poured him his drink and with a flick of his feathered tail; he sent it sliding right into the palm of the TV man’s clawed hand before starting on the next order in line.

Absently stirring his drink with one claw; Vox looked about the room – hoping to find some indication that Alastor was - or had been – close by. Seeing none, he sighed and sipped from his glass. He would have to ask Husk, then. Obviously now wasn’t a good time and he wasn’t even sure that the former Overlord would honestly tell him anything.

Tilting his glass to his screen again; Vox watched the glass of whiskey rye slide across the counter and stop perfectly in place beside him. Husk had filled the glass and flicked it over by his tail, as he just had done for Vox’s drink earlier. Setting his glass down; Vox looked at the drink in confusion. He hadn’t ordered a whiskey rye for himself and there was no one seated at the bar beside him.

Looking around; Vox glanced over his shoulder to confirm no one was behind him to have ordered the drink. Turning back; he opened his mouth to call out something to Husk when Alastor smoothly drifted in from among the shadows and materialized himself into the seat just beside him.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” Vox yelled; clearly startled. “Don’t do that!”

Alastor’s smile curved subtly more at the edges; reaching for his whiskey rye, he seemingly ignored Vox’s knee-jerk reaction, taking a drink.

Setting the glass back down; Alastor tilted his head and said: “You’ve been asking for me.”

A chill touched Vox’s spine at the blunt acknowledgement, but he pressed on regardless.

“I have.” Vox confirmed. “I require your abilities for something.”

“Oh.” Alastor tilted his head more. “Whatever for?”

“For something…that is a little outside of my own…particular skillset.”

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“You needed help with a fucking sound board.” Alastor hissed, clearly irritated.

“Yes.” Vox answered him honestly. “Is-is that alright?”

“The way you were acting…I thought you were trying to track me down for some truly heinous act!” Alastor slipped off his jacket; pulling up the sleeves to his shirt. “Not to come play at sound technician.”

“I mean…the results should be heinous enough. You can make it work though, right? I mean, you –“

“Yes, I can make this work!” Alastor snapped at him. “You sure you have everything you need?”

“I should.” Vox pulled a box from underneath of the desk. “Cords, wires…all the equipment is just there.”

“Ok, good. Give me that.” Alastor took the box from him; beginning to rummage through it.

They were in Vox’s shop; a place where he sold, repaired, maintained and re-built television consoles. Some he sold or repaired for benign entertainment purposes but others…others were built and maintained for more nefarious reasons; such as delivering visuals containing elements of subliminal messages, hypnosis, brainwashing or even in the actual entrapments to certain susceptible souls.

Recently though; Vox had run into a bit of a dead-end in his work. Others were quickly realizing what the tech was about and were learning to avoid the screens altogether. Vox needed to develop his tech – progress it into something further if he was going to gain anymore headway. An idea had occurred to him; to utilize audio with the visuals. It worked remarkably well; but he hadn’t been able to figure out a way to broadcast the sounds; find a way to reach a multitude rather than a select few. He, too, had trouble finding the right quality that needed to be placed into the audio…but, better to tackle one problem before rolling onto the next.

“Ok,” Alastor pulled the cords he was looking for from the box. “Where are the monitors you were planning to use with these?”

“Over here,” Vox showed him the consoles and Alastor looked over the tech.

He shook his head. “I’m not very familiar with these damnable things yet. I assume you made these for audio in mind?”

“Yes, there are inputs and outputs here but if the connections I have currently won’t work I can pull the wires to be spliced into for now.”

“Splicing it is, then.” Alastor began to cut the rubber wrapping around the fiber of the cords he held while Vox tore apart the monitors to get to the wires.

Freeing up the wires; Vox took the cords from Alastor and carefully spliced the ends into a seamless connection.

“That’s the source to the audio, now where are the speakers?”

“I’ve got them set all along the block outside. They’re staggered so that if anyone comes within earshot and is susceptible to the sounds, it should draw them right the storefront where they’ll see the screens.” Vox explained.

“Very good.” Alastor complimented him. “Where is the connection for those?”

“Right here.” Vox bent down; un-winding a coil of bundled wire and pulling it out.

“Perfect.” Alastor took it, then going over to the sound board; he sat down and bent over the frame of the equipment.

“You, uh – you really don’t mind helping me with this sort of thing?” Vox asked him.

“No, not really.” Alastor told him, happily – still busy with his work. “Why would I mind? This sort of thing is right down my alley; it’s an interest I’ve held onto since I was alive after all.”

“You’re not worried that I might be…overstepping?”

“Not at all.” Alastor finished fitting the connections and began fiddling with some of the settings on the panel. “You’ve been around awhile now; we’ve respected each other’s work and you’ve shown that you can hold your own. Truthfully, I might have found more qualms with it had you not bothered to find me.”

Vox had suspected that trying to fly under the radar with Alastor would never have gotten him anywhere good. Somehow, begging for forgiveness rather than ask for permission did not seem the best way to approach the radio demon.

“Besides,” Alastor continued, finishing up with the panel now. “This may prove to be beneficial to both parties. I can’t say that I have had much of an interest in pursuing the advancements in technology but, I recognize that there could be rewards to those who do.”

Alastor stepped back; brushing off his hands. “The sound board is ready.”

“Damn.” Vox smiled. “You work quick.”

Alastor shrugged, pulling the sleeves to his shirt back down and reaching for his jacket.

“Uh…what do I owe you?” Vox asked him, nervously.

“Nothing…yet.” Alastor told him; slipping his jacket back on and adjusting the lapels. “Let’s first see what you manage to do with this. If you find success – and I do think you just might – we can discuss our…terms.”

Alastor’s smile widened; he was dissipating into shadow.

“Best of luck, chum.”

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Chapter 20

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