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dobbysnotsureaboutthis · 17 days

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WC: 7.1k approx.

Description:

Alastor's been wondering what all the craze around sexual pleasure is (because of Rosie) and decides to give it a single try. That's when you arrive at the hotel, becoming his assistant; and you're just always interrupting at the worst time. (Written almost entirely from Alastor's perspective)

Warnings:

Light cannibalism, torture, and stuff, NSFW (purely written for smut purposes), unintentional edging, unedited

“Ah, is that so?”

For the most part, Alastor considered Rosie a dear friend. Her horrific tales of marriage and cannibalism, her excellent management of Cannibal Town, and her all around entertaining manner of speech were all qualities he very much enjoyed. Yet no soul is without its flaws, and Rosie certainly had hers.

“Yes! And then he…” He does his best to tune her out, grimacing at the extreme level of detail his fellow overlord chose to give him about her sex life. “There were these new knives with beautiful handles I’d bought, and they were just the perfect size for his-.”

“Would you look at that! Our waiter friend here has brought your favorite off the menu!”

The waiter listlessly sets down a plate of fingers, all tied up with bows at the end. Rosie coos in delight, thanking him with a wiggle of her fingers.

“Seriously, you’re missing out!”

“I highly doubt there is anything new I will learn from the experience.” He sips his coffee, one eyebrow raised as he listens to his old friend ramble on.

“Oh Alastor, you can never be too sure if you like something until you try it!” She giggles as she pierces her fork into a piece. Blackened blood oozes from the wound. “I didn’t know I had a liking for cannibalism until I ate my first husband!”

She hums at the taste, her sharp teeth easily breaking through leathery skin and stubborn ligaments. “And I liked it so much I had the second as well!”

“I’m sure you had a very enjoyable time.”

She laughs, noticing the telltale sign of exasperation furrowing his brow. “I was only trying to broaden your horizons. You’ll be in Hell for a long time after all! Who knows? Maybe in one of these centuries you’ll feel compelled to test things out. Don’t think too much of it sweetie.”

But Alastor did think about it. Unwillingly, of course. Nonetheless, the thought nagged at the back of his mind as he bid Rosie farewell, heading off to his usual stop at the butcher shop. He thought of it as the butcher plodded to the back of the shop, retrieving for him the whole carcass of a deer. Could the flesh of another, moving creature be just as delectable as a dead rack of venison?

He thought of it as he grinned his way into the hotel, half-heartedly entertaining Charlie and the others just enough that they wouldn’t bother him further. He let his gaze momentarily land on each of the hotel residents; could he even imagine the thought of laying with any of them? He feels his stomach curdle in disgust as Angel Dust shoots him one of his looks. That spider doesn’t know what he’s thinking, does he? No, of course not. He’s way beneath the caliber of mind reading.

Any person, any body on top of him would simply feel wrong. No, Alastor decided. Surely, his good friend must be exaggerating the pleasure.

Yet still, the thought simply wouldn’t leave him as he sliced through the sinews of his venison, closing his eyes in satisfaction at the gamey, lean taste. As custom, his butcher had prepared the meat just right; so that the texture was firm yet tender, rather than resistant and too chewy from its muscle fibers. Was it possible that the pleasures of the flesh could be just as addicting as the pleasure of consuming it?

He polishes off the last bit of meat clinging to the bone, tucking in his chair so it aligns perfectly with the edge of the table. Nevermind all that, he has a radio show to host! He adjusts his bow, humming what the people of today would consider an old-timey tune as he makes his way to his radio tower.

On tonight’s broadcast he had prepared a last minute catch to torture, some mid-level overlord who attacked the hotel in the middle of the night. Charlie might nag him about it later, but what Charlie doesn’t know won’t hurt her. He takes a seat, flipping through the script. Announcements, jazz, a brief segment on the meat market in Hell, and of course the most infamous part of his show - broadcasting the screams of said angry demon in the far corner of his tower, bound by the power of his chains.

“Sinners, I hope you’ve prepared your ears for a feast!”

The overlord’s body is resisting, tossing and turning helplessly in his hold. It’s exhilarating, the feeling of control pulsing through his veins. Delicious, the way its face contorted further until it was no longer even vaguely humanoid in appearance. Mesmerizing, as he skinned its identity in one loud tear; from forehead to chin, the overlord was no more. A meaningless black hole where its mouth once sat opens in an ear-shattering scream. He feels the noise reverberate pleasantly through his spine, echoes of its cries spreading in waves across Hell from his radio tower.

He stretches his back, then, lengthening bones making pops and snaps as they release from their prison of sinews and tendons, until he loomed over the fallen demon who pathetically clawed for an exit as though it still had a chance of escaping. He lets him crawl a miserly few feet, before easily snatching him up with one long arm, savoring the absolute forced submission in the other demon’s blood-drowned eyes.

“A reminder to all the misbehaving, insolent souls of Hell…”

He unhinges his jaw till it’s as large as the sinner’s head, then bites it off, removing the screaming machine right off its neck. Its hair is a nasty texture on his throat, though he ignores the mild inconvenience for the incomparable satisfaction of the rush of raw power. The studio is quiet now, save for the sounds of thick, tainted blood sliding down his elongated throat, and the soft gulps as he swallowed.

He licks his lips, which is coated with the putrid blood of that demon - ah, there’s nothing that quite hits the spot like the bitter taste of total conquest.

“...not to cross paths with the Radio demon.”

He laughs as he ends the broadcast, cleaning up the rest of the body by obscuring it in flames and letting it wither. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the taste of sinner meat unlike his dear friend Rosie; once the body becomes inanimate, unable to scream or shake in terror, it’s simply a slab of meat the same as any other. And he far prefers the bite of fresh venison.

His body slowly compresses itself, returning to the usual form he enjoyed. But his blood still pulsed quickly, and his face was still flushed from the euphoria of domination. His ears twitch once, twice as he feels strangely stuck on the feeling.

That irritating worm of a thought creeps in yet again, reminding him this morning’s unsettling conversation. Missing out? It itched at him, the thought that he has yet to experience this aspect of hedonism. He seats himself at his station, blood-crusted nails tapping on his knee.

He could give it a try. That’s what he did with television, after all. Twenty years after he landed in Hell and that imbecile Vox started rising in power - well, they were friends at the time - he had entertained the idea of video, if only in the privacy of his back then radio station. And after a mere week with the device, he had decided that radio still was the best and most refined medium.

Hmmm.

He sinks into the shadows, tapping his fingers on his cane as he makes his way toward his room. He stretches his grin to scare Angel Dust, who he crossed in the halls; delighted, as he grimaces in disgust at the sight.

Although, he muses, he can hardly bear to think of sleeping with any of the demons surrounding him. The door shuts, and he finds himself seated on his bed, restless fingers never stopping their erratic tapping.

Perhaps, he can test things out by himself first. Only if things go well will he entertain another.

And that’s how Alastor finds his fingers slipping beneath the band of his pants, sending his shadow to guard the outside of his door. Who knows which one of those pesky fiends would come knocking for some ridiculous problem?

He snakes a hand around the length of his member, internally grimacing at the intimacy of the action. It wasn’t as though he’s never touched himself before; but rather that the last time had been… more than a century ago by now?

That’s right, he thinks, awkwardly maneuvering his hand up and down. He recalls the more foolish early days of his life, when he was in his teens and sex was all the craze amongst his peers. The one thing that actually should’ve changed with time, yet only grew worse.

He had found the activity disinteresting back then, much like he does now, observing the ripples across the swamp in his room as he rhythmically moves his hand. Up and down, up and down.

He tries to summon back the adrenaline he experienced while torturing the demon, but it was slowly fading away, each stroke of his arm cooling down the pulse further. The skin on his palm was growing tired of brushing over the same crooked vein, his cock not hardening nearly enough to penetrate another’s innards. He redirects his attention toward the activity. The best he gets is a slight twitch, his member half-erect only from the arousal of torture half an hour prior, and the repeated stimulation from his hand.

This is what people get all excited over? How laughable, really. Not that he was so surprised, considering how pitiful many of them were already, even without their questionable choice of pastime.

He gives his arm a rest, squeezing at the base of his cock then languidly moving his fingers upward until he comes to a stop at the tip. A modest smear of precum peeks from the opening, and he watches the viscous fluid gather into a bead, which he spreads over the head of his cock with his thumb. The miniscule feeling is growing into a low-level buzz in his gut, like an itch he can’t be bothered to scratch.

One time, he reminds himself. That means finishing the whole experience. He resumes the motion, but before he could get back into it…

“Alastor?” His eyes, which have started to shut from concentration, snap open at the sound of Charlie’s excitable voice at the door.

Now, of all times! It’s a good thing he sent his shadow to guard the door. He sighs, tucking his half-hard member back into the confines of his slacks and picking up his cane - with his other hand, of course. He swings the door open, his smile gleaming and wide as always.

“What is it now, Charlie?”

The blonde squeals, her hands clapping together quickly before she flourishes them toward you. “We have a new guest!”

He notices you then, a tiny thing beside Charlie, eyes shining just as bright if not more than the princess. He could already tell, without you even speaking a word, how bothersome you were likely to be. How wonderful.

But the show must go on, and his smile grows even wider, fixing his stare on you in the hopes of making a fearsome first impression. “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you, dear!”

You don’t flinch at all; instead, you lean in to match his smile, enthusiastically shaking his hand with glee - the hand that he used to do… that, he realizes in dread. No matter how much of a nuisance you were going to be, this was absolutely inappropriate to do to a lady, nevertheless, one he’d just met. But of course, you don’t know that.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Alastor! I’m so excited to work here at the hotel! I can tell we’re going to be good friends already!”

“Mmmhmm, I have no doubt you’re correct.”

The subtle flair of sarcasm is immediately lost on both you and Charlie, and the two of you squeal simultaneously.

“Best friends!” Charlie cheers, holding your hand in one and his in the other.

“The bestest!” You giggle, leaning your head affectionately on her shoulder.

He strains his smile. “Now then, aside from the friendly introductions, I assume there is something you require from me?” He directs his attention to Charlie, whose eye suddenly sparks up as though remembering something.

“Oh yes!” She clutches onto your shoulders, presenting you to him. “Our new guest here is looking for a job! She’s brand new in Hell and found out that you don’t just get to stop working after death, unfortunately. So she came to our hotel from that brilliant ad you made, and we were brainstorming what sorts of jobs she could take here.”

“You… just got here, and your first reaction is excitement?” That… is interesting, although it’s an avenue to be explored another time.

Your eyes sparkle at what you likely presumed to be his interest. “I’ve always known that I was going to Hell anyway! I just didn’t know it would be so cool!”

Charlie swoons at that, taking your hands in hers. “Oh we are just going to have the best time together I already know! I should take you to Lulu World, I used to go on the rides there with my dad all the time!”

“There’s. An. Amusement park??”

He increases the sound of his static until the two of you finally notice him. “As you lovely ladies were saying?”

“Right! We were thinking…” Charlie wiggles her eyebrows at you, which you catch and reply with one of your own.

“...That I could be your assistant!”

All the static stops. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your assistant! Charlie was telling me about how you do so much for the hotel, that it’d be better if you had somebody helping you!”

His grin remains frozen on his face, radio-dialed eyes boring straight into yours, which never seemed to dull no matter what they were looking at. Weren’t you afraid of him in the slightest? It’s almost insulting, how you approached him so fearlessly. Perhaps it’s only because you’re new to Hell. That thought relaxes him slightly, his mind churning in delight at the picture of you a few weeks from now, much more tame as you’ve learned to stay in your lane.

“I do not require any assistance-.”

Charlie’s face instantly falls.

“...But, I suppose, if no other career option in the hotel is available, I will take you as my assistant.”

“Great! Awesome! Thank you so much, Alastor!” Her face lights up so quickly that he rolls his eyes; that girl was such an open book that it hurts to look at sometimes.

Then there’s a figure colliding into his chest, as two arms wrap around his back. “I’m so, so glad!” Your girlish voice is too loud for his sensitive ears this close, and though it takes him a moment to react, when he finally does, he hisses, flattening his ears as he pulls away instinctively.

“Do not step out of your boundaries, my dear.”

To your credit, you do pull away quickly; but the same unbeatable optimism still shone in your eyes, as though you didn’t take his word as a threat at all.

“I’m sorry!” You didn’t look nearly enough sorry. “So when are we gonna get started? I hear you work in a radio tower! Oooh that sounds so fun! But I wouldn’t mind getting started on the rest of the tasks you do around the hotel either, I’m sure there’s a lot!”

Alastor bites back another loathing groan, the corners of his normally well-practiced grin threatening to fall. He could only hope your initial excitement would wear off within a few days.

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

“Alastor, do I put in the eggs or the bacon first?”

…It’s gotten worse.

“Cook the bacon first, then the eggs in the leftover grease.”

“Got it!” You zoom off, hurrying as you move to do just as he says.

He sighs, taking the opportunity to direct his attention back to the script he was working on; but he knew it wouldn’t be long until you once again appear in front of his vision, free to help again.

He was used to dealing with irritating personalities as a public figure, but none had been as bad as this; because the difference was, that he could eventually get away from them. You, however… he didn’t quite hate you. Aside from being a naturally excitable person, you were pleasant and helpful enough. The issue was that you were too helpful. You were always around to help, finishing every meaningless task he threw your way in mere minutes. And once you finished, you would come back for more.

Goodness, he’s never seen someone this hardworking! You worked as though you were a single mother of five fighting for a living, rather than a childless soul free to spend the bare minimum effort for the rest of your afterlife. Even at night, there was no rest! When you found out that he preferred his nights sleepless, you were eager to copy him, insisting that you had never enjoyed sleeping; it was only for the sake of living that you did so. And while it was true that he had grown used to the nights awake, your persistent presence was starting to make him tired enough to long for rest.

The sound of the kitchen sink turning off catches his attention. His ears flick in your direction, listening for the telltale sign of your scampering feet.

And sure enough, a few moments later, you’re here. “Breakfast is ready and served!”

To his surprise, you actually sit yourself down on the couch next to him. You? Taking a rest? Well, it should preferably be farther away from him, but at least he wouldn’t have to do the whole act of sending you off for a task, and then waiting in dreaded anticipation for the timer to end, bringing you to him like clockwork.

“That’s wonderful, dear. Good job!” He takes a sip from his “Oh deer!” mug. “Say, you’ve been working very hard all week; does the idea of a day off entice you at all?”

You shake your head, swinging your feet below the edge of the couch. “Nah, I’m good. It’s been so fun working with you I hardly felt it was work at all!”

“I see.” Another sip.

This wasn’t going to do. You see, there was yet another unexpected issue your constant presence brought. That little… experiment of his. He had no room to finish the experience, simply because you were always there! He supposed that he could give it up altogether. After all, he was never interested in the first place.

But then he would also never get to check off that irksome box. He had to find some way to finish, if only just to call it a day. If you weren’t going to take the day off, then… he was just going to have to find some way to keep you busy for long enough. But what was there for you to do? There are certain parts of his workload that he simply can’t have you touching. His radio equipment, for one. You wouldn’t be going anywhere near that. Which does reduce his options by a lot.

Perhaps he could have you assist Husker? Or-. His grin sharpens. Or! Ah, what a great idea!

“…Alastor?” You question. “Are you still there?”

“Yes, yes, of course I’m here silly, I'm right in front of you!”

“Oh, good. Because I thou-.”

“My dear, I’ve suddenly thought of a task I need your assistance for!”

“Oooooh what is it?” You perk up, back straightening as you bunch your hands in anticipation. “Is it gonna be more cooking? Sweeping? Walking back and forth in the hallways a hundred times while counting my fingers? You never did tell me what that was for, by the way.”

“Not at all! I think it’s about time I request you do something more… difficult. Something more time consuming that I didn’t think you were ready for until now.” He stands up, guiding you by your shoulders to the bar. “-Niffty!”

“Aw, yes, I love her! What about her though?”

“Wonderful! Then I believe you’ll be perfectly suited to the task of entertaining her.” He snaps his fingers, drawing the one-eyed cyclops to him. “Niffty dear, why don’t you show her the bugs you’ve got there?”

He grins even wider when you visibly cringe at the bugs, that being the first negative reaction you’ve shown since arriving at the hotel. He watches for only a few more moments before turning his back, knowing that he could leave the rest to the little cyclops.

Now, to take advantage of the time he’s earned for himself. His steps are oddly eager for a mediocre activity, his rush to close his bedroom door out of the norm. Once again, he has his shadow watch over the outside, as he sits himself on the edge of his bed, shifting the band of his pants over his hips.

He feels the itch come back, subtle and buzzing like a pesky mosquito, as though he were picking up at exactly the same level of arousal as where he last left off.

Good, that should save him some time. His fingers wrap around his half-hardened cock, giving it a squeeze to tease the light pulse at his tip. The itch soothes as he works his hand down his shaft, causing him to breathe a small sigh of relief. He slowly quickened his pace, his cock becoming stiffer as his movements sent more blood to engorge it, flushing his tip with a pretty red shade. He has to admit that the feeling was becoming pleasurable. Although he has no need for such a thing when killing works just as well to get his adrenaline racing.

Surely, doing it with another would have little difference. He feels his jaw clench, grin tugging at the edges as he quickens his hand further, determined to get his high over with as fast as possible so that life could continue.

The tightening of his abdominal muscles as he neared a climax wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to him; despite having an inactive sexual life, the thrill of a good kill was sometimes intense enough that arousal would stiffen his cock similarly to how he was now. Yet the unbearable growl in his stomach, and the almost painful sudden swelling of saliva in his mouth, always overpowered the feeling from below, leading him to satisfy that carnal desire with the consumption of another, from the irreplaceable feeling of control beneath his fingertips as his victims screamed with the regret of crossing him.

A slight sheen of sweat gathers above his brow as he feels unpracticed muscles prepare his orgasm, stroking faster until-.

Three sharp knocks ring on his door. “Alastor? I’m back! Are you in there?”

He has never directed the fury he currently felt toward any woman; but you were coming close to being the first. He had half the mind to just… continue, let you wait outside. But that would only work if you were literally any other person. Knowing you, you would just persistently call for him until he answered, and that would definitely disrupt his concentration on achieving his climax. He reluctantly tucks his still twitching cock back into his slacks, fumbling around as he struggles to conceal the bulge protruding there. He fixes the lapels on his coat.

“...Hello, my dear. Back so soon?”

You sheepishly look at your toes. “Yeah. Sorry if I was bothering you-.” Hmmm. Some self-awareness for once. Perhaps you could be trained. “-but Niffty got distracted in the middle of showing me her bugs. She’s by herself now, smacking her head with a broom. Is she going to be alright? I mean, you’re kind of like her boss right?”

“I own her soul. And yes, she will be alright as she always is. Funny! I expected you to last longer with her, given how popular you’ve become amongst the residents of this hotel. Was that all, or was there something more important you came to bother me for?”

“Yeah the thing is, I’m not that good with bugs so I couldn’t keep her entertained.” You seem to be entirely unaware of his jab, as your face brightens again. “I came to ask for another task! Aside from the bugs thing, I can pretty much do anything else! In fact, I can work all day if you need me to.”

Known weaknesses - bugs. He’ll store that in his mind for future use. “I’m well aware of your work ethic! You… just seem to never run out of energy.”

You beam, taking his words as a compliment. “Yup!”

“...But I may not always be ready with a task for you. With that in mind, why don’t you check up on the other residents? I recall you taking quite the liking to our dear princess of the hotel.”

Your face falls. Oh, if you cry at this moment, he will have truly hit his last nerve. Unexpectedly, his cock, which still sat uncomfortably hard in his pants, stirs at the thought of your teary face; sobbing as you begged for his forgiveness for being such a nuisance. He pushes that thought away.

“I do want to spend time with Charlie, but she’s in the middle of figuring something out with her dad. And Angel Dust is always at his job, Husk doesn’t talk much, and you know Niffty…” You stop as you count to your fourth finger. “...And that’s everyone in the hotel.”

“And what about simply spending time by yourself? You must have passions you enjoy outside of working.”

With that, your face falls even further, your pupils downcast, lashes lowered. Must you play this act with him? “I used to, when I was alive. But I just… can’t find the point of doing so anymore after death.”

For a moment, he thinks that he’s hit a weak spot. Then you recover in record time, rubbing your hands together with an animated smile. “Because there are just so many other things to do in Hell! I want to take in everything this place has to offer!”

And how could he turn down such a brilliant display of optimism? It would be one thing if you had broken down, weeping some sob story about not wishing to be left alone. Then he could easily spin some excuse to cast you aside, preferably forever. It was another, to have you insist with genuine excitement, how you enjoyed working for him. In this case, you would be the one in control if he were to turn you down; that would be a display of weakness from him, not you.

It could be worse. You could be the horribly unhelpful variety on top of your constant proximity. As for his little experiment… he would just have to find a way to carry it out in the little time you were away from him. Thinking, plotting deliberately long tasks that you managed to solve in a quarter of the time he planned for you. He even trusted you with the tasks he wouldn’t let you touch at first; fine, you could touch his stuff, edit his scripts (not that he would use your edits), clean whatever! Anything to keep you busy for long enough!

And so it goes; every time his wrists moved faster, nearing that ever-unreachable climax, you were there, knocking at his door. It came to the point where his expectancy of your arrival made it even more difficult to achieve his orgasm; the thought of your interruption restrained the frustrating throb of his cock to constant level of almost-there but never-finished.

It was beyond vexing! Every time, he came closer to the idea of ending you. Though it would be uncharacteristic, given you didn’t fit his usual demographic; that might also come with its benefits, as it would be easier to blame your sudden disappearance as a… happy accident.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Whereas he usually anticipates the feeling of victory after killing, he couldn’t help but feel like killing you meant he was losing. That it was evidence your overwhelming good cheer had finally gotten to him, and killing, in this case, means his surrender to your attack.

Not to add that despite his recent contemplation, he really has never thought of killing a woman. It was not out of some strange moral construct, but rather the self-important disgust at the thought of becoming as pathetic as the demons he normally enjoyed obliterating. No, he wasn’t going to stoop to such a level.

So he holds on, letting your interruptions continue, figuring that one day he had to be desperate enough that his orgasm would come quicker, before you could knock at his door. Yet no matter how aroused he was, no matter how painfully strong the urge to release; he could never finish the race before you got there.

Subtle jabs and hints flew past you. Direct expulsion would mean his loss. Threatening you never worked, and you always seemed to be strangely calm as you swung your legs back and forth, watching with utter ease his show of tearing apart his captured souls. In fact, to his incomprehension, that seemed to be the part of his day you were the most neutral about; happily humming along to the jazz he played, eyes casually fixated on his cannibalism the same way eyes normally stare at a mediocre TV show - unbothered, neither interested not repulsed.

Just what did you do to get into Hell?

He can feel the precum pressing uncomfortably, his pants pushing against the over-sensitive tip of his cock as he listened to you ramble on about how you didn’t mean to bother him, but you had questions about how to work certain equipment in his studio. His ears are flat, eyes narrowed as his grin threatens to actually fall. But no, he had to endure it all as he pretends to be wholly unaffected, patiently (albeit with an extra edge of snark in his voice) explaining to you the mechanics.

“I would’ve never imagined handling radio equipment in my afterlife! I was a teacher when I was alive, you know.”

A teacher? Interesting, that was the first piece of information he had gathered about your life. Though he couldn’t imagine what kind of school would allow you near their children, especially with his knowledge now that you’ve ended up in Hell. Or perhaps, your upbeat attitude was exactly what they were looking for.

His stream of thought is cut off by your happy humming, bending over his desk as you poke around his equipment. Unfortunately, he finds his eyes lingering on the curve of your butt, the edge of your panties peeking innocently at him from under the atrociously short hem of your skirt - were the modern people so comfortable with walking around nearly nude? It wasn’t that he found the side of your rear particularly enticing, nor was he attracted to the mere appearance of someone’s privates; but he found himself wondering, fantasizing, of how easy it would be to restrain you against his desk and take you there. How easy it would be to get this over with.

His cock strains tightly against the fabric of his pants, reminding him of his predicament. He grits his teeth, pulling at his hair in a rare display of regret, and desperation. Why did he ever take on such a ridiculous experiment? He prided himself on his composure and unbreakable self-control, yet the very sensation of his length throbbing for a release, and the uncomfortable persistent ache in his cock as he went about his day; a sensation that was usually entirely dormant, bothered him so greatly he felt he might go insane if he didn't finally climax.

He was no stranger to the idea that desperation was the root cause of many bad decisions; he just never thought that he, of all people, would fall prey to it one day.

He thinks he must’ve lost his mind a few days later as he lets your knocks continue on his unlocked door, one hand pumping at his angry red cock. This was supposed to be the original experiment anyway, he tries to rationalize. He’s beyond caring about the consequences. One time only, he reminds himself, teeth gnashing together as he lowers his boundaries at a snail's pace, for the first time letting your voice infiltrate his activities, even fuel them.

“Alastor…? I’m done cleaning your desk. What can I do next?”

You quiet down. Then you speak up again, hesitantly, as though you somehow also knew you would be crossing an unspoken boundary if you were to twist the doorknob. “Alastor, if you're ok with it, I’m coming in.”

Wonderful. He can’t wait to see the pained look on your face as he fucked your womb, forcibly erasing that unshakeable mask of optimism you wore; replacing it with apology, regret, and subservience.

Then you speak up again. “Actually, I better not. I don’t know if you’re in there but if you are, come find me when you’re done with whatever you’re doing alright?”

He stops his movement, a feeling of absurdity taking over his mind. No! Absolutely not! Well, it was what he wanted all along, but not when he had already prepared himself to accept the feeling of your hole clenching deliciously over his cock, not when he could finally

Against his will, he calls out for you. “You may come in if you wish, my dear. The door is unlocked.”

He hears your footsteps stop again, unsure and slow. Were you already aware of what was going on behind the walls? “Oh ok. Only if you’re sure though.”

What happened to your lack of respect for his boundaries? He rolls his eyes at the door, impatiently waiting for you to crack it open, waiting to see your reaction as you see the depraved motion of his hand now moving languidly across the length. What shameful look would cross your face?

“I’m coming in!” The door opens.

If he wasn’t so against the technology, he would’ve wished to capture your expression with a camera; your smile drops, eyes widening as you stood there absolutely frozen, always-running mouth still for once as you look between his face and hand, brain short circuiting at the sight of him. It was rewarding in a near mouthwatering way, to see you finally react the way he wanted you to. He feels superior, the way he was always meant to, as he sits perched on his bed grinning, never stopping the motion of his hand as he watches your face start to take on a red hue.

…That satisfaction doesn’t last long though, as you seem to regain your composure, the only hint of your prior expression being the flush on your cheeks. He’s taken aback as you yet again regain your usual beam, albeit a bit more bashfully.

“Is this a new type of task for me?”

…Oh, fuck it. He extends one of his tendrils to slam the open door, eyes glowering as he collects you by the waist with another. Up close, he sees your bravado waver; your eyes glued to the now furious red head of his cock, which rubs against your stomach as you land on his lap.

“My dear assistant, do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused the last couple of weeks?”

He wasn’t going to let you respond, but in yet another turn of events, you press yourself closer to his throbbing cock, coyly smiling up at him through your lashes. “Have I? Well I can always assist with the trouble I caused.”

At any other time, he would’ve jumped on the opportunity to dig deeper into your motivation; but right now, he’s beyond caring to decipher your intention. All he wants is to sink his cock into your waiting hole, which warmed his length teasingly through only the thin separation of your underwear.

He digs his hands into the sides of your hips, the sharpness of his teeth glistening from the low light in his room. “I’m afraid your assistance isn’t needed at the moment.”

Your brows raise in confusion, temporarily caught off guard by his statement. “What-.”

Before you could finish your sentence, he’s torn off your panties with a skilled claw, grin straining as he prods the tip of his cock into your already wet folds. Were you waiting for this? The thought, which should irritate him, only intensifies the guttural desire to ruin you. You let out a breathless squeak as he pushes his cock into your walls in one go. He feels blood collecting between his teeth where he bit himself to stop the utterly humiliating sound of relief that would otherwise fall out. You, on the other hand, gasp for air as you attempt to adjust to the shock of his intrusion.

He presses your body into his pristinely folded sheets, grin straining as your back collides with the headboard, the jolt of the motion rocking your pussy flush against the base of his cock, where your clit smacks wetly against his abdomen.

“You can just watch me do my job.”

He does one experimental thrust, feasting on the sight of your head throwing back as he hits that spongy spot inside you, licking up the gratifying sounds of your cries. He pins your arms to the headboard as he pulls back, then thrusts again. Oh… this does feel phenomenal.

If only for the pure fact that he had been denied his release since you’ve made your entrance, he could barely think as he picked up the pace, moving his hips back then slamming them forward in the way he’s only heard of until now. You moan with every thrust of his hips, the pathetic little sound vibrating from the vigor of his movements.

He realizes, mortifyingly, that he can already feel his orgasm approaching. That isn’t supposed to happen this fast, is it? It certainly never was that way the few times (well, recently many times) he experimented with his own hand; but the moist, gummy heat of your walls seemed to coax his length, beckoning him to release and paint them white.

He grits his teeth, refusing to give in. Were things always destined to end this way? So that no matter which way he took things, you would be the one to win?

He speeds up his pace then, mind attempting to focus on anything but the depraved ache of his pent-up cock, balls tight with a torrent of cum, despite how his release was the only thing that the animal part of his brain craved. If this was your plan all along - no, even if you were unaware and it was simply your nature to be devious - he’ll ensure that he at least makes you come first, make you fall apart on his cock before he ejaculates.

Your eyes are hazy, bottom lip caught succulently between your top row of teeth, as your back arched up so your nipples would graze his suit each time he sunk into your deepest spot. By the looks of your trembling thighs and quickening breath, it wouldn’t be long until you cum, his wanting brain reasons.

He has one knee digging into the bedsheets, his other leg working to powerfully ram into you; and he tightens his own muscles, willing himself to contain his long-awaited release.

“Alastor! A-A-lastor!” You call out his name, and he feels a surge of satisfaction rushing through him; your submission like a hefty meal that feeds straight to his starving gut.

Then your eyes roll back, stilling as your walls convulse rhythmically around his cock. His nails rip into the bedsheets, prepared to resist this climax, wanting to wait until he fucked you into a second orgasm.

But your unpredictable little mind has other plans, and as you suddenly bite down on his shoulder, teeth sinking all the way into the muscle there; he groans in surprise, the first noise he’s let escape during the whole session, cock twitching as it releases his sperm in lengthy ropes against his will.

Your sweaty face is smug, smiling up at him as you playfully flick at his hair. He forces himself to recover, the irritation crawling back into his heart twofold.

He’s going to fuck that look right off your audacious face.

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

“It was amazing! I simply didn’t know one could do such a thing with a rope! Especially with how tight-.”

Alastor nods, tuning out and sipping his coffee as Rosie droned on about her latest escapade. It seems she’s found yet another man to toy with; and although he wasn’t particularly interested in this story, he was looking forward to her inevitable follow up on disemboweling him.

“Is that so?”

“Oh yes! It’s important to prepare your meat well, as in the case of any dish. But sinner meat requires a different type of preparation. It’s unfortunate that you’ll never know the taste.” She giggles, stirring her cup of tea.

“I might’ve taken a sample since the last time we spoke.”

Her eyes light up in recognition, excitedly leaning forward in her seat. “You have! And tell me, how did it go! Was it everything you hoped for?”

He sets down his mug. Was it all that great? Well he supposed that while it wasn’t anything near the surge of primal power murder gave him, he certainly didn’t dislike it.

He certainly hasn’t minded the new change to his routine; when sometimes, after a broadcasting session where his adrenaline is rushing particularly high, after he solves the growling of his stomach, he also tends to the ache of his cock by fucking your womb. As usual, you didn’t mind providing him with your assistance, pliantly spreading your thighs on his table whenever you recognized the look of raw hunger in his eyes, that look of hunger that differed from his usual craving for meat. The craving of flesh.

But he hasn’t turned into some… lustful creature. He merely gave an unventured avenue a try, and it turned out to be more pleasurable than he expected.

He widens his grin, static buzzing with threat as a warning to her not to question further, and Rosie takes the hint, smiling knowingly as she backs down.

“It was alright.”

A/N: It's up to you whether the reader did it on purpose LOL. Anywho definitely don't be expecting me to always post this often, this week I went through some weird writing craze. I have no idea when I'll post next but when I do it'll probably be a series (we'll see how that goes) cuz I want to try long-form writing (oooooo intimidating). I wrote this fic cuz I've heard that the way serial killers choose their victims is closely related to who they're sexually attracted to. & cannibalism is often used as a metaphor for love. And I thought that it was so interesting Alastor is this cannibalistic serial killer who's also asexual! I speculate that the adrenaline rush they get from killing might somewhat mimic arousal. And I thought that might be true for Alastor as well, he just doesn't project those feelings onto another person cuz he's asexual... BUT WHAT IF HE DID? Well, I wrote a fic to find out and thought Tumblr might like it lol. Not that I'd know about how all that feels cuz despite my amazing wonderful extremely realistic writing skills it might surprise you that I've never killed anyone or done a sex... My author notes are more like author short essays (that's why I put them at the end)

Taglist:

@angeldustharmony, @littlebluefishtail, @cryssyd, @reath-solia, @speedycoffeedelight, @mo-0-o Comment below if you wanna be added!

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you smut #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x you #I still can't get over how perfect his character is

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worldofkuro · 5 months

Text

Painted Smile

Painted Smile III

<-Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

Pairing: Alastor x Female!Reader

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: Well, well, this chapter is pure fluff. I really liked how it ended up. Please, enjoy it.

“ Can I come in yet?” you asked, outside Alastor’s bedroom, waiting for him to open the door.

You’ve been waiting for five minutes and you weren’t known for being a patient person. You were having a sleepover at Marie’s house after weeks of begging, from you at least. When your mothers said yes, you couldn’t be more ecstatic and even Alastor seemed happier than usual. He did ask you to come with a pretty dress because he had a new game he wanted to play with you. It was unusual but exciting !

So here you were, waiting in your pretty dress, your hair perfectly done, and a frown on your face. How long were you going to wait for him? You were ready to knock once again on his door but it jerked open before you could touch it. And there was your friend, his hair slicked back, his glasses on and his usual smile on his lips. You kissed him on both cheeks before he tugged you inside his bedroom.

“ Welcome to my humble Radiobooth !” He said with glee as he showed you his desk with paper spread on it, and.. was it a microphone ? You tilted your head as he forced you to sit down on one side of the bureau. He took the microphone, and spoke.

“ Welcome New Orleans to Alastor’s podcast ! Thank you for tuning in, today I’m thrilled to announce that I will not be alone, I am blessed with the best singer in all Lousianna !” he claimed and shoved the microphone to your face. You looked at his beaming smile and understood what he wanted from you. You smiled as you spoke into the microphone.

“ Thank you Alastor, I’m very pleased and proud to be here, with the best radio host in the world!” you declared, trying to sound ladylike. You grinned at him as you saw his smile sketch at your words. He gave you some paper with doodles and notes that you began to read the fattest you could as he kept talking.

“ Would you like to talk about something, Miss ?” asked Alastor as he watched you read the notes he gave you. You nodded as you spoke into the microphone, Alastor holding it for you.

“ Well, yes. Last week, at school, a girl mocked my voice, saying I sounded like a dying pig!” You ignored Alastor’s sniggeer as you kept playing your role, reading the topic you were suppose to talk about.

“ How dreadful ! How could she say something like this?”

“ Right ?” , you decided to go off script, putting the notes down “ but you should have heard her screams when I pushed her into a puddle of mud. Now, who is the pig?” you hid your smile behind your hand like a proper lady as Alastor’s laughter roared in his bedroom, his head tilted back. You giggled as he calmed himself down, holding the microphone to his lips.

“ Oh dear, you sure know how to put up a fight!” He looked down at his notes still giggling.” I did have something similar happening to me: a boy , talking badly about my mother.”

“ What?! How dare he ? I hope you put him in his place !” you shouted, feeling anger circling inside your body. Wait, was it for real or was it part of the show?

“ Indeedy I did, dear. I punched the poor fool, but it seemed like I hit too hard and he went crying somewhere and I was unfairly punished. This is why, my dear, our sleepover was delayed to this day!” he smiled as your mouth was wide open. You applauded him as he beamed with pride.

“ You did well, Mister Alastor!”

You kept doing your broadcast with Alastor, going off script when you wanted to talk about something that happened and he wasn’t there with you. Sometimes you would just shut your mouth and listen to him telling stories, real or not. You could listen to him all afternoon but he always insisted that you participate in the debate or the stories he created. He sometimes teased you as you didn’t know what to say or you couldn’t understand what he meant but you were really having a great time.

“ Oh, so she fell in love? What did you say then?”

“ That she better get up. Now dear listener, we are ready to hear your question !” he said before turning his head toward his door as Marie came inside with food and drinks. “ Oh well, here is the best cook in all of New Orleans, please come Moth- Madame! A round of applause for our new guest!” he said as he stood up, gesturing to his mother to come closer.

Marie laughed as she sat next to you, putting the tray on the desk, minding the notes all over it. You applauded with a big smile as Marie bowed her head.

“ It’s a pleasure to be here!”

~~~

It truly seemed like Marie was having the time of her life as she was holding her belly, laughing loudly.

“ No Mister Alastor! Sweets are the best food you could ever eat if you weren’t so picky with what you ate!” you shouted, slamming your fist on the table.

“ Are you saying that my mother’s food is not the best, you brat?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed but still with his cunning smiling face.

“ I’ve never said that! Don’t put words in my mouth !”

“ That’s what I get for inviting a singer.”

“ Hey !”

Marie applauded before wiping her tears from her eyes. She kissed you both on the forehead before saying she had things to do but she hoped she would be invited once more for another broadcast.

You watched as she left the bedroom before turning your attention to Alastor who was writing notes on papers. You tilted your head before clapping your hands together as you remembered what you wanted to say to Alastor before he made you wait in front of his door.

“ I found a name for our cat!”

“ Our cat?”

“ The one who always hisses at you, yes. Let’s call him… Hissker!”

“ … Well, ladies and gentlemen, we will be back, for now, please enjoy this music I choose for you!” He turned on his radio so you could be lulled by the music. He laid his microphone on the table and sighed as he raised an eyebrow to you. “ Hissker ? I guess it’s because he is always hissing toward me but.. It doesn’t really sound right.”

“ Well.. Hiss.. Hiss…” you tried to find a good name that would satisfy Alastor. “ What about Husker ?” you asked and smiled when you saw Alastor nod. “ It was a very funny game, I hope we will play it again!”

Alastar grinned as he shook his head. “ It is not over yet, we haven't gone through all the notes yet. And you need to sing at the end of the broadcast, aren’t you the best singer in Louisiana ?” he taunted you with a smirk. “ Plus, we have the listener’s question to answer!” He stood up and went to take letters and put them in front of you. You took one and opened it.

“ What is your favorite color ?” you read before tilting your head, looking at Alastor. “ You want to know my favorite color?” He shook his head, claiming that it was the audience’s question, not his ! You smiled, feeling warm inside, it was not everyday that Alastor was curious about you like this, but you didn’t dare to tease him about it.

“ Welcome back dear listeners ! Our singer here is ready to answer all of your questions !” he took the letters and began to read its content to you. You answer all the questions with sincerity and joy. “ If you could have a superpower, what would it be?”

“ Flying !” you giggled.

“ And now, our last question before our guest’s performance. What do you think about our dear radio host Alastor ?” he stared at you, the letter hiding the bottom of his face you could only see his eyes. You took the microphone from his hand, he surprisingly let you, and with a big smile you shouted.

“ He is the best !”

Your smile widened as Alastar laughed at your answer, clapping into his hands. You felt warm seeing him so happy. You gave him back his microphone but he shook his head and tugged you toward the living room, where a beautiful piano was waiting for you. You looked at Alastor, you didn’t know how to play the piano and he knew that so why…

“ Dear listeners, it’s almost time to say au revoir but before that let’s listen to our beautiful singer here.” he sat on the bench before the piano and began to play a melody. You blushed as you held on the microphone, feeling shy. You looked at Alastor who was watching you, with a big grin before closing his eyes. You took a big breath as you recognized the melody that he played. It was one of your favorite songs…

You began to sing shyly, waiting for Alastor to laugh at you but he was keeping his eyes closed, moving with the rhythm of the piano’s keys. You closed your eyes as you held the microphone near your mouth, beginning to feel freer and freer. You smiled as you began to dance in the living room, your dress twirling around you. You jumped, moving your head with the rhythm singing like nobody was watching. You were having so much fun, you felt exthrilled, you didn’t care if you were being too loud, if you didn't hit all the right notes. You opened your eyes and fell into Alastor’s gaze.

He was staring at you with a big smile, still playing the piano perfectly with a little bit of sweat near his forehead. His hair was no longer neatly slicked back, some curly locks of hair were falling in front of his face. You thought you would feel embarrassed that he was watching you being a dumb happy girl but you just smiled at him, dancing and singing. After a while, even Marie came and you danced with her, as you sang and Alastor kept playing.

It was perfect.

You finished your song, out of breath. Marie applauded you with a big grin as Alastor put his arms around your shoulder and crushed you against his chest. He took back his microphone, thanking his audience as you were looking at him. You remember him being a tad smaller than you, but now… Did he get taller? He forced you to bow before saying goodbye.

“ It was an amazing performance ! Both of you, you can be proud of you. As a thank you, I have prepared Alastor’s favorite food: jambalaya ! “ She clapped her hands together. You tilted your head, you’ve never eaten this food but from Alastor’s face, you couldn’t wait to taste it.

~~~

“ You can sleep with me sweetie, my husband will not come home tonight.” said Marie as you shook your head, holding your plushie against your chest in your nightgown.

“ We are still playing with Alastor! When we are finished, I will join you.” you said with a shy smile. Alastor was behind you, waiting for his mother's permission to stay a little longer awake than usual. She sighed but at your pleading eyes she accepted your request. You squealed with happiness before running into Alastor's bedroom and jumping on his bed. He came after you, looking at your plushie with a puzzled expression.

“ What is it ?”

“ Well, first of all, it’s a He and he is a deer.” you smiled as you explained that when you were five, you fell down a lake and because you have never learned how to swim, you were drowning but a deer came toward you and bent down his head so you could grab his antlers ! “ My parents said that it was a tree branch that fell down the lake but I’m sure it was a deer !” you pouted, sad that you parents never trust your story. Even if you couldn’t really remember well this story, you knew what you had seen.

“ So, a deer saved your life from drowning…”

“ Yes, so my parents bought me this deer plushie so now, when I'm scared I can just squeeze him and feel safe!” you demonstrated your words by squeezing your plushie against you. “ Do you want to try it?”

Alastor stared at you and then the plushie.

“ How can he protect you?”

You rolled your eyes at him before pushing your plushie in his arms. You forced him to hug it, once you were satisfied, you nodded and looked at Alastor who was clearly confused. “ Now, squeeze him !” You looked at him as he squeezed it, closing his eyes.

You stared at Alastor. You remembered the bruises on his belly that you saw last month. You knew that fathers could be brutal with their son, to man them up as your friends used to say. Maybe Alastor was the same? You loved your plushie, you really did… But maybe, Alastor needed it more than you? You looked at the boy's expression, his eyes closed, his smile hiding in the plushie’s fur, he seemed so relaxed. You nodded, accepting your own decision, until Alastor was safe, you were going to give him your plushie.

“ Mister Deer could be our very first guest in our radio show?” you smiled at him, Alastor opening his eyes slowly, staring back at you. You gulped, maybe it was his show, you were just a guest. You opened your mouth to apologize but Alastor beat you to it.

“ I’d like that.” he whispered with a soft smile. “ Our first guest.”

Without being aware, you both laid down on the bed, Alastor still hugging your plushie. You kept talking even as the sun wasn’t in the sky anymore. You yawned for the third time in the last thirty seconds as you explained how to take care of Mister Deer.

“ Now that I have Mister Deer, who will protect you?” he asked, no trace of fatigue on his face. You smiled tiredly at him, putting your head on his pillow. It smelled like him. You didn’t know why you liked that fact.

“ Well, because you hold Mister Deer, it’s your job to protect me now.”

“ … So, do I need to hug you?”

You stared at him, his eyes shining with the moon light. A hug from Alastor ? You looked away, blushing but you didn’t know why.

“ M-maybe but…Do you want to …?”

You felt him move and you flinched as he covered your eyes with his hand. You waited for him to answer but you were so tired and now that you were englushed into the darkness with his hand on your eyes you couldn’t help but fall asleep before your could hear his answer.

~~~

Marie walked up the stairs, it was 11pm and it was time for the kids to go to bed. She opened the door to Alastor’s bedroom and couldn’t help but smile at the sweet scene in front of her. Alastor was hugging you with a deer plushie being squished between the two of you. She walked toward the bed and covered the both of you. Well, she couldn’t wait to tell that to your mother! She left the bedroom, closed the door quietly and went to bed.

Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega

Ps: By the way, my deers, do you have an idea for the plushie's name ? I'm open to ideas.

#hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor headcanons #alastor scenarios #alastor scenario #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #fanfiction #alastor fanfiction #fiction #alastor fiction

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signedreality · 2 months

Text

ᯓ LIKE A DREAM

alastor x reader

ଳ synopsis ; romance was something alastor never paid attention to, but when he's introduced to you, it's suddenly the only thing on his mind.

ଳ warnings : petnames, romance, she/her pronouns are used, cannibal mentions, and alastor being infuriated.

ଳ missive ; thanks to the reblogs of my dear listeners, i am able to find my old broadcasts and repost them! i do hope you enjoy this broadcast, and if you already tuned in when it was first broadcasted, then feel free to listen once more! enjoy!

now airing ; something about you - eyedress

usually, alastor visited rosie as much as he could.

there were weekly meet-ups as the two conversed about whatever, and the only thing that really changed was the topics.

but today, it was different.

"oh. my. stars!" rosie suddenly gasped while alastor peered up from his cup of coffee, and the demon tilted his head in confusion once rosie stood up from his seat. "let me go grab someone real quick!"

as the woman dashed off into the crowd of cannibals, alastor could only eye the group until rosie came rushing out.

except now, she had a woman in hand.

you looked stunned by the speed the woman had, and she only seemed to get faster while she dragged you to stand in front of the table alastor was sitting at.

he slowly stood up from his chair while rosie squealed, and she held your shoulders as she smiled. "look at this darling who came to cannibal town yesterday!"

alastor didn't even have time to speak as rosie let go of you, and she walked over to the table to grab a finger before popping it into her mouth. once she swallowed, she smiled at you both. "this is alastor, dear! don't worry, he doesn't bite! oh, who am i kidding? he bites, but only when he's hungry!

the woman laughed before she shook her head, and she looked at alastor. "i'm just teasing!"

his gaze rested on you while you gifted him a small wave, and rosie sauntered up to you as alastor never broke his peer. why couldn't he look away from you? his eyes bored into yours as he felt his chest tighten up, and he slightly cleared his throat due to how a lodge seemed to form.

alastor's shoulders only tensed while your innocent eyes peered into his, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't look away.

you looked just like a dream...

alastor gripped his cane the longer he stared at you, and he swore that you were the prettiest demon he had ever seen.

he would have examined you longer if it weren't for the fact rosie spoke up.

"ain't she a doll, al!" as rosie grabbed your cheeks and pinched them, you softly smiled into her touch.

oh, your smile.

it was something that could be plastered on a magazine.

he wanted nothing more than to be the one who would bring that smile onto your face every day, and keep such a charming grin from ever faltering. such a bright smile like that didn't deserve to ever be shaded by the horrids of hell.

"indeed she is, rosie..." alastor lowly spoke while he stared at you, and he could've sworn that he saw your smile widen with his agreement.

the urge to start complimenting you left and right was shoved down by the common sense that he had just met you, yet he felt his resistance falter as you softly laughed.

"thank you, rosie—" you spoke, and how he wished for you to never stop talking. your voice was angelic despite you being present in hell.

what unforgivable sins could you possibly have committed to end up in this place? was it because you stole everyone's hearts, or was it because you could kill people with just your smile?

no matter what you did, alastor was intrigued to hear about it. he needed to know how someone like you ended up in hell.

rosie patted your cheeks once she let go, and you raised a hand up to rub your cheeks. a burning sensation coursed through them due to rosie's rather tight grip.

"i have places to be, unfortunately—it was lovely meeting you, alastor!" your words were laced with no form of fear or even apprehension to his closeness, for you seemed perfectly content with him being near.

and that alone was enough to amuse him even more.

"it was a pleasure to meet you as well, my dear." he held out his hand, and once you took it, he swiftly moved to press his lips against your knuckles. "quite a pleasure..."

as much as alastor would've adored to keep your hand in his, he reluctantly let it go while you waved to rosie.

"goodbye, darling! i'll see ya soon!" rosie rested her hands in front of her stomach, and once you were out of view, she faced alastor.

"now, alastor, i expect you to treat her well!" alastor's eyes widened before he turned his head so that he could stare at rosie. "whatever do you mean?"

"come on, don't play coy!" rosie grinned while she gestured to the door, "i saw you eyein' her like she was a brand new butcher shop on the block!"

alastor let out a chuckle at rosie's words, and he tapped his fingers against his cane before he looked at the door.

he wanted to see you stroll through it once more just so he could greet you once again—the thought making his grin widen as he acknowledged rosie's words. "she is quite a gal..."

"well, what are you standin' there for? here i was thinkin' you were a gentleman!" rosie let out a short laugh before tilting her head, "why don't you go catch up to her, alastor? a gentleman wouldn't let a woman walk herself home!"

alastor straightened his posture before he brought a hand to tug his bowtie, and he dusted off his sleeves as he waved at rosie.

"you're right as always! i'll visit you some other time, dear!" rosie only waved back at him while alastor started to walk off, "don't charm her too much, alastor! don't want her runnin' off on you before you even get to know her name!"

alastor could only let out a light laugh while his shoes clicked against the floor, and a low breath left his lips while he opened the door.

alastor wasn't certain if this would charm you or not, but if there was anything he was certain about anymore, it was that he was absolutely smitten with you.

⤷ word count ; 1,035

🌊 reblogs + hearts + comments are appreciated !

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x you #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #radio demon #radio demon x reader #radio demon x you #fanfic #alastor fanfiction #the radio demon #x reader #reader insert #x you #📻 signedreality is on the air

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charmercharm3r · 1 year

Text

Make Love, Not Porn

Puppeteer

HHJ

Masterlist, Story Masterlist

18+ content — minors, do not interact

Synopsis: You crave a life of normalcy, he craves you. And he'd do anything to keep you, even if you're for the world to see.

wc: 4.3k

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, barista!hyunjin x cam girl!reader, mutual masturbation, cum eating, oral (f receiving), faking orgasms, nonsexual showering together hehehe, lmk if I missed anything

Past Broadcasts : Heat Signature

Live : Puppeteer

Next Scheduled Broadcast : Hi, My Name Is

☆ﾟ

Fuck self control. Fuck whoever’s watching. Fuck him, and fuck him hard, you’ll do it on camera…

…Is what would’ve happened if your entire livelihood wasn’t excitedly tuning in to watch you masturbate.

It was difficult to watch him touch himself to you while not being able to so much as say his name when you wanted to so badly. All you wanted was to fall to your knees and suckle his leaking cock like it was a sweet treat, make him whimper and cry and beg you to let him cum until there isn’t anything left in his body. Only then would you climb up his body and ride him until he’s a subby ball of overstimulation and dry orgasms. That’s the fantasy.

“Fuck– wait, I’m gonna cum–”

“Have I kept you waiting long?”

A rather loud slap of skin on skin and the creaking of the bed in the background made your body jolt, you obviously had to peek a glance to make sure Hyunjin was okay. And he definitely was.

Both of his hands clasped over his mouth to repress the loud strings of moans turned into muffled heavy breathing and cum shooting from his tip to leave ribbons of white decorating his chest and abdomen. Hyunjin couldn’t keep his hips from rutting into the air as he fought the urge to sob out.

What a good boy, you wanted to say, but returned your attention to the floods of comments pouring in.

“Sorry, I just got a new pet! He might make some noise, I’m still house training him. So don’t mind the disruptions! How are you today?” You leaned your elbows into the desk and intentionally squished your bra clad breasts together. There was a small grunt that caught your attention, stealing another glance at the boy who struggled to keep a lid on his excitement. Hyunjin had let his hands fall to the bed while he attempted to regain his composure, cum dripping down the sides of his body and cock still twitching, untouched.

Back to work.

“Oh, hard day? I’m sorry to hear that… I hope what I’ve got planned will make it all better, even just for a little while. I wanna get right to it, ‘m so excited!” Times like this, you were glad the camera didn’t show your face, you caught quick looks of Hyunjin sitting up onto his elbow, reaching for his dick again, determination on his face and clearly nowhere near finished.

“We’re taking things old fashioned today. Just me, you,” you wiggled your fingers beside your chest, “and the pretty manicure mister callingherdaddy helped me pick out. I do like purple, even got a set to match because you’ve been so generous. Thank you, sir.”

The comments scrolled faster than you could read, so you didn’t bother for the moment being. Instead, you took your time to pull your hair up, keeping it off your shoulders so that the camera wouldn’t pick up you looking in Hyunjin’s flustered direction. He watched your every movement like a hawk and you were the bunny, waiting for the moment you gave him the chance to swoop in, claws first.

Gently, slowly you ran your hands across your puffed chest, tugging the bra straps to drape off your shoulders as you leaned back in the chair. Hyunjin sucked in a deep breath and lightly massaged the area around his still hard cock at the possibility that you could take a good while, while he could take a good thirty seconds to blow again. But you didn’t really have the patience. It felt like an honor that he’d been so vulnerable with you. Though, maybe that was pushing it considering he’s still a man. Men think with their dicks, and he was certainly using every brain cell he had.

“I’m feeling a little needy. It won’t bother you if I get straight to it, will you?” Hyunjin held your stare with confidence, this time you truly were talking to him. He shook his head, no. “Good. Don’t mind if I help myself, then.”

You were so eager. Eager and wet. Sopping. Before taking off the panties, you hiked your knees onto the edge of the table and pressed your fingers to the darkened gusset. The wetness gushed outwards from the point of pressure and the both of you could hear the lewd slick sloshing between your folds. Hyunjin’s eyes rolled back again for a second as his head fell to the side, pretty lips parting for a heavy sigh.

That fucking look in his eye, like he was ready to spring up and devour you at any given moment. You wanted him to and it was so difficult to resist. The pinging of the tips going off made you check the screen and slide the panties off but leaving it hanging off your ankle.

“Sorry, lovely, I can’t wait. Feel like I’ve been waiting for this all day.” The shy giggle you let out made Hyunjin smile too, a shit-eating smirk that made you wanna tie him to the bed posts naked and leave him there all night.

As soon as your fingers made contact with your puffy clit a horny moan pushed past your lips. It was hardly any pressure aside from the intense eye contact Hyunjin wouldn’t dare let die down. His hand dwindled higher to grab the base of his cock, stroking just the shortest bit to tease himself. It wasn’t the fact that you were touching yourself that got you so worked up, it was him. The pretty face that couldn’t break away from yours because he was hanging on every word you said.

Your fingers moved a little faster to rub the bundle of nerves in tight circles, perfect pressure to make your eyes flutter. “This is already too much for me. Ha, isn’t that funny? Fuck– feels so good. Just missing– mm– one thing. One big thing.” You gestured with your eyes down to his cock and watched as his entire body tensed up, hand slapping over his mouth again to conceal a groan.

Hyunjin’s body felt on fire, like the cum leaking from him was made of molten lava and it burned in the best way possible. He loved the way your hole clenched the quicker you circled your fingers, how your toes would curl when you pushed harder, the slow rakes of your gaze up and down his lean body, how you’d linger a little longer on the way his hand wrapped around his cock like you were memorizing the way he liked to be touched. It was because you were, still jotting down mental notes of every nook and cranny of his body because you wanted to know it like you knew your own. Don’t tell him that, though.

“Look at that,” you pried your hand away to spread your fingers to show the camera the stickiness between them. Hyunjin couldn’t see it very well, but when you brought your fingers to your mouth and moaned, he got the idea and jerked his cock a little faster. “Mmm, would you taste me? I know you’d be so good with your tongue.

“I don’t think I’ll last long, lovely. It’s so hard to hold back when I think of you.”

Hyunjin matched your now frenzying speed, fucking his hand tighter when you switched hands rubbing at your clit to slide them down to your hole. Oh, you were glistening all over, sweating under the mutual heat both you and the barista were giving off. His wrist occasionally twisted while you attempted to curl your fingers at the right angle, but as well as you knew your body, you knew you’d never be able to reach unless you suddenly learned the secrets of a contortionist within the next few seconds.

Aching limbs, pussy growing more and more used to the ministrations the longer your orgasm refused to come to light, you were ready to fake one just to give your wrist and cunt a break. Even Hyunjin could see the slight difficulty, but wasn’t really sure of why. You’d seemed perfectly fine on your own during all those other live streams where you weren’t using a toy. But when he thought a little harder, the only time there wasn’t an extra source of stimulus, be it that a grinder, vibrator, dildo, there was always an extra set of hands. Sometimes a man, sometimes a woman, any person you’d collaborate with for the time being. You called it an “old fashioned” type of stream tonight, but didn’t think it entirely through.

Because you were really struggling, as in to the point where your eyebrows were furrowing and biting your bottom lip to hide the desperate whimpers that hinted to your viewers that you weren’t truly as close as you said you were.

He was right there. He was so close, pretty lips plumped ready to be used and big hands fisting his cock instead of being around your neck. How come this was suddenly an issue? Now that he’s here and you can’t have him, you can’t cum?

As you could see him visibly getting nearer to his end, you mouthed, “come here,” looked at the spot next to your desk and out of view of the camera for him to stand. Hyunjin rushed to the spot and tried to keep the sloshing, slick sounds of his jerking as quiet as possible. You could smell him, his musky scent and hint of coffee grounds that made your mind numb. The atmosphere rose a few degrees as the sweat dripped down his temple and onto his reddening chest. Fuck, everything about him made you want to cut the stream short, end it right here and blame it on a power outage or something, make up an excuse just because you wanted him so fucking badly.

It’s a problem, one that got you so frustrated that you did fake an orgasm, the whole shebang. Your body convulsed, you clamped your pussy around your fingers and let out a moan that seemed maybe a little too forced. But you didn’t care. The orgasm that was on the tip of your tongue could wait the few seconds it took to say your parting words. With Hyunjin at your side, you slipped your hand off to the side to rake your nails down his thigh, feeling him shudder beneath the touch.

“Told you, I couldn’t wait, he he he. ‘M sorry for ending things a little early today. I think that new pet of mine is very eager to play. I promise, we’ll have more fun next time. See you soon, lovely.” You took your hand from Hyunjin to do your sign off and click the ending button. As soon as you did, he rumbled a moan you could tell he’d been dying to let out.

You spun in your chair to face him entirely and spread your legs again. Just as you did, his fist sped up, no longer caring about the noise he made. Rubbing at your clit was his last straw, looking up at him with those desperate, watery eyes.

“Cum, baby. I need you.” The breathy whine, you almost begging him, Hyunjin panicked for a second until you gestured at your cunt, “but if you make a mess, you clean it up, pet.”

He didn’t hesitate even after knowing the consequences. But to Hyunjin, getting to lick his cum off your pussy was definitely not a consequence he’d ever complain about. “Ah– shit, gonna cum– fuck, you’re so pretty. Such a pretty pussy, oh my god, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Within the few inches closer he came, he couldn’t hold back his orgasm any longer and initially missed the first rope or two of cum and splattered it over your thighs, the rest then spreading between your folds with every rub of your fingers on your clit, making even more of a mess than necessary. It was so warm and slippery, your eyes fluttered for a second at the sensation. But you wanted more, too needy to even think about what could come from this.

Before Hyunjin had entirely come down, you reached up to push him down by the shoulders, bringing him to his knees with his face in front of your puffy cunt. He was ready to go to town, but still waited for you to tell him that it was okay. And at just a nod and a small moan, he dove in, licking his seed off your pussy like frosting on a cake. He didn’t know he could taste so sweet when your juices mixed with his.

And dear fucking god, how warm you were. He wasn’t sure where he wanted to start and just sort of went in everywhere. Fat tongue licking stripes up and down and covering every inch he possibly could, messily lathering your bundle of nerves in his saliva just to make it sound sloppier when he finally suctioned it between his lips. He was a master at that, you knew his lips wouldn’t fail to make your legs shake. You wanted to tangle your fingers in his hair, but even that felt like crossing a line.

Was there really a line, though, now that his head was between your legs? It didn’t matter right now, he was doing too good of a job for you to worry about the after part.

Hyunjin slurped and suckled on you until you were moaning out for him, gripping at the armrests of your desk chair and borderline screaming because he was just what you needed. He looked up at you between breaths, smiling into your pussy while softly palming at his cock again. Taking a second for you to gather yourself, he licked up the leftover cum that covered your thighs, gently kissing his way back to where you wanted him.

Even if it was only a few seconds he’d pulled away, you whined when his lips connected to you again. It felt like a broken powerline, the electricity that coursed through you when he buried his face in your warmest parts.

As he sucked in, the tip of his tongue wiggled softly over your clit, and that strange, wonderful feeling made your hands shoot out to grab onto his hair, gripping onto it so tightly that the brief idea it might rip out did cross your mind. Just for a split second, though, because he didn’t stop even as you tugged him in closer, as close as physically possible without your bodies somehow miraculously phasing into one another.

“Fuck, fuck fuck– don’t stop, baby. Fuck, ‘m gonna cum. Don’t you dare fucking stop.” He hummed in acknowledgement, and that little detail is what sent you flying over the handlebars and face first into the pavement for your orgasm to clean sweep through your body. The heat overtook every one of your nerves to make you unsure of whether or not you were completely silent in bliss or screaming at the top of your lungs from the intense euphoria.

Has it always been like that? Were your orgasms always that… vivid? If that’s even the right word for it. Part of you didn’t want to let him go even after the high subsided, content with just running your fingers through his hair. Hyunjin didn’t seem to mind, he was mindlessly kitten licking the rest of his cum off the parts of you he’d missed, head contently laid in the crook of your pelvis. As your heart rate slowed, you tapped the top of his head gently so you could look at him properly.

The bottom half of his face was glistening in juices, yours, his, probably mostly yours. But also, his cheeks were a bright red to match the tops of his ears, and his gaze was no longer carnal but plainly tender, stars and warm pink mood lights making him sparkle. Kindly, you leaned forward to take his chin in your hand and swipe the lingering fluids from his lips and Hyunjin smiled.

“Did so good,” you cooed. He leaned his head into your palm. “Wanna, maybe, shower?”

“Mhm.”

You helped him to stand up and guide him into the bathroom to start the water. He was shaky without your being there to stabilize him, probably more sensitive than he was letting on. When you turned to leave, he reached out for your arm. “Just getting us some towels,” Hyunjin nodded and awkwardly waited in the middle of the bathroom until you returned. His face lit up seeing the multiple towels in your hand.

“You’re coming in with me?”

“Of course,” setting them down and opening the shower door for him to enter. “What kind of host would I be if I didn’t?”

Your apartment only had one bathroom, all of the stuff in here was yours. Your soap, your shampoo, all of your hair masks and body exfoliators, it was just you. Prospectively, Hyunjin knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up about this, about you helping him. You were just doing a service. But then again, you also contradicted yourself. He hadn’t prepared to touch you today, let alone even come into your apartment. This was unfamiliar territory. Does he thank you? Does he kiss you? God, he wants to kiss you. Does he ask what you are now?

You maneuvered him under the water first, gently tilting his head back to let the stream soak his hair. It ran down his cheeks, down his chest and body as his eyes quietly closed under the warmth of the water and your hands. Your touch was feather light, he might’ve thought he was daydreaming if you weren’t softly instructing him when you wanted him to move. Even that put him into such a dream-like, hazy state. If this was all that was to come from meeting you, he wouldn’t mind.

The lather of the shampoo filled his nostrils to make him open his eyes, seeing you bubbling it between your hands. Hyunjin’s only thought in his head was how beautiful you were, skin damp and wet, rosy cheeks, so domestic and loving. He didn’t notice the small grin playing along his lips when you reached up to massage the shampoo into his hair. You smiled back, though. Just briefly, but he saw it. Warmth filled his chest and pushed his head harder into your hands. “Smells good,” he murmured.

“Do you like orange blossoms?”

“Is that what it is?” He didn’t care enough to look away from your face.

“Mhm.” You were finished with the task much sooner than he wanted. Just as you were about to reach for the body wash, he put his hands on your shoulders to switch places. You stood under the water with a confused expression. “You don’t have to do that,” you said softly while he grabbed the shampoo bottle.

“I want to.”

His attempt at washing your hair was nowhere near as tranquil for you as it was for him. He did his best, but didn’t put enough shampoo in his hands and had to keep going back for more, dropping the bottle a few times. It made you laugh, your sweet giggles making his embarrassment worth it. When he tried to help you rinse it out, he forgot to put his hand on your forehead to keep the suds from getting into your eyes, embarrassment rushing immediately back. Even then, you laughed and smiled and went along with the domestic role playing for as long as he wanted.

It made his heart flutter the most as it was time to cleanse his body. Your hands running up and down, feeling him everywhere, even the most intimate of places. You asked him if it was okay first before traversing further south. Honestly, he didn’t mind you touching him there, even if he was flaccid. For some reason, he trusted you. The way you spoke before about intimacy and human connections made every minute detail feel larger than it was. Like he was connected to a set of strings, being pulled in any direction you wanted and manipulating his every move, he didn’t care, not when it was you controlling him this way. Hyunjin was ready to do anything you asked. He wasn’t even thinking about sex as your fingers grazed his soft cock to get to his thighs. Not so much as a twitch when you looked down at his private area to make sure you rinsed everything thoroughly. That’s not because he suddenly wasn’t attracted to you, but because he was so fucking attracted to you that he didn’t feel the need to think about sex every second he was with you to maintain that attraction. It was a rare emotion to feel, and desperately held onto it.

For you, you were masking the little pang of hurt when there was no physical reaction to being in the shower with you. He didn’t so much as try to kiss you, didn’t try to touch you other than shampooing your hair and hardly laying a finger on you to soap.

It was the post nut clarity. It happens every time. Why did you think he’d be any different? There was one thing all men wanted. He got it, on to the next.

Men are selfish. Which is why he jumped at the opportunity to leave after the two of you were done cleaning up. It went similar to your usual interaction with male partners;

“Did you want to stay the night? In case you’re too tired?”

“No, no, I should get home. I don’t wanna overstay my welcome.”

“It’s no trouble.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

He changed, took one of your offered snacks for the road, and left.

And you weren’t planning to ever show your face in that coffee shop ever again.

Hyunjin was skipping home after leaving your place. He had a plan to get you to want to see him again. The only reason you didn’t take him up on your offer of staying the night was because he didn’t want you to think he wanted to go further. He’d snuck one of the other specially doodle cardboard cup sleeves he kept in his apron onto your cam desk with his phone number written on it, also a sweet message that would hopefully make you smile.

He’d fought the urge to kiss you all night, really kiss you. Not the “I wanna stick my dick in you,” kind of kiss, but the “I wanna make you breakfast in the morning and lend you my sweaters so they smell like you,” kind of kiss. All he thought about the whole walk home was just that, he was literally skipping down the sidewalk.

When he came home his roommates asked why he was so late and why he looked so disgustingly happy. Glowing was how Seungmin put it. Hyunjin was absolutely glowing.

But that glow faded over the next few days when you didn’t call him. You didn’t come into the coffee shop. You were still doing your usual streams, and that stung a little, seeing you but not seeing you. He should’ve asked for your phone number instead of leaving his. God, that was so fucking stupid of him to do.

Maybe he misread the entire situation. You got yours, he got his, there was no reason for you to ever speak again. That had to have been the reason you never reached out. And it fucking sucked. He hated it. He had a taste of you– literally tasted you– and was forced to quit you dead cold. It was miserable. He was miserable. The strings were cut and he was a lifeless piece of hollowed out wood. He tipped you during your streams just like before, he knew you knew it was him, but you slowly stopped acknowledging it. Hyunjin didn’t quit, he kept telling you how much he wanted you in the only way he knew how. Until you told him you didn’t want him, he was going to try.

Then Seungmin, ever the big brained menace he is, suggested that he should just stop by your place. Seungmin didn’t know details, he didn’t know who you were or what your job was, just that his roommate was sulking over a girl that was purposefully ignoring him. Hyunjin’s roommate didn’t think the barista would take it literally.

After Hyunjin got off work the next day, he made your favorite drink and even used one of his weekly free bakery items to bring as an extra apology gift. He picked up some flowers from a nearby floral shop, had them write your name in that pretty cursive and it even made the worker blush. They told him, “whoever these are for must either be very special or about to get a hefty apology.”

Hyunjin answered, “both.”

He wasn’t even sure if you’d be home, it wasn’t one of your streaming nights. Still, he hoped and prayed that you were. Hyunjin hesitated to knock, he hadn’t seen you in person in a week and felt the anxiety bubbling in his belly. But he missed you, more than he’d ever missed anyone. If he felt like this now, what was he to do if you were home and rejected him a second time? He doesn’t know if he could handle that.

Still, he found the courage to knock, barely audible but loud enough that you came to the door. Hyunjin stood up straighter, took a deep breath, and waited for the door to swing open. But it didn’t. Did you trip and fall? Did you need help? He swears that it was your footsteps he heard coming.

He stood in waiting, returning to holding his breath after knocking one more time. Nothing came.

☆ﾟ

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut @straykids5star

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gingerlee-holds · 3 months

Note

Ok ok so and idea for a fic: Alastor broadcasts one of his frequent tikl attacks on Vox so everyone in hell knows about his weakness (any length is fine)

oh!!! thank you for the idea and request anon/lovebug!! i hope you enjoy this!! its not directly related to the series im currently writing about ler!alastor, but its related, so maybe its on the same storyline just in the future- enjoy!!

aaaa i absolutely did not proofread this so ignore the terribleness xD

Tune On In

Words: 2228 Warnings: not proofread lmao- also mentions of alastor's violent tendencies but its offhanded

Pentagram City, among the only metropolitan areas in Hell, was bustling. Cars honked in endless traffic, clubs blared out noisy music, guns were fired, and demons screamed in agony or ecstasy, often both. There were a few moments when the city was blissfully serene, though these were rare occurrences accompanied by tragedy. For instance, after the formerly annual Exterminations, the entire city held its breath for the toll of the clock tower to signal that they were spared. These minutes of agonizing silence were rarely enjoyed, though.

There was only one other time when Pentagram City was so quiet: when the Radio Demon made a broadcast. Each radio and speaker in the city played the single, agonizing transmission. The hair on the neck of every sinner rose in fear, and every overlord held their breath. The terror and respect Alastor garnered by broadcasting the suffering of his victims made him the second most feared being in Hell, second only to Adam. Now, though, the commander of the Exorcists had been disposed of, meaning Alastor now had the top spot. And when the speakers across Pentagram City suddenly became overwhelmed by static, the Radio Demon smiled to himself, knowing he had the rapt attention of every demon in the Pride ring.

"Testing, testing~! Is this thing on?" Alastor's voice echoed through the now-silent streets. “Salutations, sinners! Thank you all for joining me on this lovely morning! The temperature today is a downright balmy eighty-six degrees, and we're getting reports of a chance of acid rain in the southside around ten o'clock, so keep those umbrellas ready, folks! Now, I'm sure you're all wondering who I have with me as today's special guest on the program, and I'm thrilled to introduce him~!"

Alastor spun around in his chair, grinning with delight at his victim, who lay on the floor of his recording studio, bound by magic tendrils. The businessman glared up at him, mouthing, "Don't you fucking dare," to no avail.

"Yes, it is my absolute pleasure to welcome everyone's favorite wannabe, the overrated picture box himself~! Everyone give a hand to Vox, CEO of VoxTek Enterprises and peddler of the same useless trinkets and gizmos corrupting today's youth! Yes, a big hand for the pixellated prince!" Alastor pressed a button on his soundboard to play a recording of raucous applause.

Velvette looked up from her phone, blinking with realization. She cringed and looked over at Valentino, who looked like he was about to throw another tantrum. "How was he stupid enough to get himself captured?" she mumbled as she ran to the security cameras. Alastor continued his monologuing as Velvette watched, dumbfounded, the recording of Vox reading a letter before storming into a power outlet. She looked behind her as Val grabbed the letter from the table and began to read it silently, fuming.

Alastor wanted to prolong this as much as possible. "How have your stocks been doing, old pal?" he asked innocently, extending his microphone staff for his guest.

"Just fine." The mic was sensitive enough to pick up Vox's angry sparks and glitched voice as he spoke, struggling to seem level-headed now that he was being recorded.

The Radio Demon giggled. "Any new products you'd like to promote?"

"No."

"Ah, but enough of business. Let's get on to business!" Alastor laughed at his pun, standing up to walk around his victim. "You're very nervous, chum!"

"Get real. This has got to be the trashiest- ACK-" Vox froze mid-sentence as Alastor pressed the tip of his cane on one of his antennae.

"Careful. Don't forget whose guest you are~!"

Vox growled in annoyance and squirmed a bit in Alastor's magic. He hadn't even bothered to wear his suit before running over, which he regretted as he lay on the floor in a button-up shirt and slacks. Looking down, his heart sank further: he was still wearing his slippers.

Alastor removed his cane, walking towards those slippers. "Still pissed I almost beat you that time~?"

"Uh… fuck you!" Vox snapped.

"Just saying~!" Alastor grinned.

Val looked up from the letter. "He stole my line. That bitch! He stole my goddamned line! I swear, I'm gonna-" he growled before storming off, leaving the paper on the table.

Velvette quickly ran over and skimmed, murmuring to herself. "'To whom it may concern,' blah blah, 'scheduled for a meeting,' yada yada, 'meet an associate at 6 to…'" She stopped and squinted at the page. "Hell does 'vouchsafe' mean?" Her brows furrowed as she connected the dots. Alastor must have sent this letter to lure Vox out, and Vox, thinking he was late for a meeting, ran from the tower without telling anyone. "That idiot!" she yelled, punctuated by Val throwing a wine glass against a wall two rooms down.

Alastor let a sinister chuckle escape his lips. "I think you have some things you should share with our dear audience! For instance, what exactly did you suggest I do seven years ago?" He waited patiently for the question to sink in.

"I- what?" Vox raised an eyebrow, not seeming to understand.

"Seven years ago, you came to me with a proposition. What exactly was it?"

The question finally clicked for Vox, but he scowled at the Radio Demon. He'd die before he gave that prick the satisfaction. He stayed silent, sparks shooting around his body.

"Suddenly, the chatter-box is quiet~! Such strange times we live in. Don't worry, folks, I know how to make our guests talkative~!" Alastor quickly used his cane to flick away Vox's slippers.

Demons looked away from their radios, wincing preemptively at the agony they were about to hear. Overlords felt beads of sweat rolling down their faces. Velvette leaned closer to the radio, pursing her lips, nervously fiddling with the pens on the table. Vox squeezed his eyes tightly shut, expecting Alastor to break his toes any moment now.

The moment stretched on. Vox tried to hold his breath, but when he couldn't, he finally exhaled slowly, and when he did, the Radio Demon struck.

“H-heehee- n-nohow wahahait, hohOld oHon a sehhec-!” Vox shot upward, looking down to see Alastor lying on his stomach, his legs swinging behind him as he gently traced one claw up and down Vox's sock. “T-theheere’s n-noho wahahy youhuhu're- c-cuhuhut ihihit ohuhut!”

"Hm, feeling a bit bubblier, are we~?" Alastor grinned impishly, slowly adding the rest of his fingers to scribble over Vox's feet. Now realizing what the Radio Demon had in store for him, Vox clamped his mouth shut, every muscle in his body straining to contain his laughter. An electric current had formed between his two antennae with the effort he was using.

Suddenly, Alastor's voice appeared next to his ear. "Go on, you little gigglebug, let it all out~!" Vox shot a glance sideways to see Alastor's shadow whispering to him. "Besides, we both know you're far too ticklish to resist~!"

"F-FuhUhuhUCK! YoUhuHUHU oHohOLD-TihIhIMEy PRiHihiHICK!!!” Vox snorted and arched his back as much as he could. Teasing was just too much!

Velvette's shoulders relaxed a bit. It didn't seem like Vox was in trouble… However, when she double-checked her phone, she saw that social media was blowing up about the CEO of VoxTek being tickled, which had unfortunate results on the company's stocks. At least she could rest a bit easier knowing that her friend- no, business associate was in no real danger. She was shaken out of her thoughts by another staticky shriek.

"Come now, I know you wanna tell all our lovely viewers about how you-"

"NoHoHOHO!" Vox shook his head, but his eyes bugged out when he felt tendrils squeezing at his hips.

"And now~? Let's change that channel~!"

"OKAHAHAY!! OKAhAhahAHAY! FuhUhuhUCK!!" Alastor slowed down but didn't stop the gentle tickles to keep Vox in a giggly state of embarrassment.

"Go on~! What did you propose to me all those years ago~?"

“T-thahat… thahahat youhuhu chahahange youhuhur nahahame tohoho Vahalahastor-!” Vox’s screen turned red as he remembered the thought.

Alastor cued the laugh track again. "That's right! Since you wanted me to become a member of your polycule so much-!"

“IT’S NOT A POL- EEHEHEHEEEK!” Vox's indignant shout was cut off by a squeal he couldn't contain when he felt Alastor's claws scribbling against his shoulder blades.

"Now, next question!" Alastor pretended not to hear the squealing mess on his recording studio floor. "When we fought those years ago, who won~?"

"NEhehHITHER!!" Vox desperately tried to weasel his way out of the question and his tickles, but with both, Alastor kept him pinned.

"Technicalities!" Alastor smirked and added shadowy tendrils to the back of Vox's knees as punishment for his insolence. "Nobody technically won, but only because…?"

“THEHEHE VEEHEEHEES!!!” Vox bluescreened as electric shocks flew off in every direction, making Alastor step back a bit and slow down again. “Theehehe Veeheehees cahahame in ahahand sahahahved meehehehe!”

"Right, since I was about to win~!"

Vox growled in frustration, trying to get his composure back. "Yeah, but how about that fight with Adam? Talk about- ACK-!" Vox was again cut off by the cane on his antennae, and he looked up into the face of the radio demon, with eyes in the shape of dials and horns extended. A radio hiss filled the studio, echoing out across the city.

Alastor waited a few moments before responding. "Many nasty rumors are going around about me, Vox, mostly thanks to you. Only one is completely and wholly true, and it's this." He bent down close to Vox's face, making him flinch away. "I do have a special appetite for the flesh of other demons. Vox, my good old friend, I need you to know I am famished at the moment."

"Y-yeah-? W-well-" Vox tried to think of something clever but came up short. "Y-you're not going to eat me, Al! I'm all wires. Wouldn't taste good!"

Alastor hummed in thought. "Perhaps you're right. I have a refined palette, and junk food would just ruin my mood." He smirked at the insulted stammering Vox let out before continuing. "However, I just can't resist a little taste~!"

"What? WaitwaitAlasTOHOHOHOR!!!!” Of all the things Vox expected from his worst nemesis, nothing could have prepared him for when Alastor bent down and began gently nibbling his teeth over Vox's ribs through his shirt. Oh, he would never hear the end of this from anyone.

"Final question," Alastor chuckled. "What is your biggest weakness~?"

'Oh, fuck, no, please don't make me say it!' Vox's mind raced. Was Alastor seriously going to-

The Radio Demon let out a raspberry on the middle of his ribcage, sending him into silent hysterics. Yep, Alastor was going for the kill… metaphorically.

"IHIHIHI'M!! IHIHIHIHIEAHAHAHAHA!!! AHAHAHAL!!!" Vox tried getting the words out, the words he knew would spare him from this hellish tickling. Alastor, mercifully, stopped and let Vox catch his breath, pointing the microphone on his staff to Vox's face. Vox sighed, feeling the built-in fans on his head whirring crazily to cool him down. He whimpered softly, defeated and made into a giggly mess, so he mumbled pathetically, "I'm deathly t-tihihicklish…"

"Yes, indeed he is, ladies and gentlemen! Thank you so much for joining us today. I hope it was as enjoyable for you as it was for me! Although, I know Vox appreciated it the most~! Tune in next time for another exclusive interview~! Vox, will you be coming back on the show?"

"N-nohohoho…" Vox tried to hide his face in the tendrils but wasn't very successful.

"What a shame! We have so many more laughs to share, don't you think~? I'm sure we'll all hear from you again soon~!" With that, Alastor flipped a switch, and the studio's large 'ON AIR' sign turned off. Across the city, speakers began playing their regular music again, and the city's noise returned in all its chaotic, messy beauty once more.

The radio demon released his tendrils, and the businessman slowly and wearily rose to his feet. Every muscle shook, and he leaned against the wall for support. "This… This isn't over. You won't get away with this." He turned back and glared daggers at Alastor, sparks shooting off his hands.

"I have! Now, don't dawdle! You need to address the media~!" Alastor pointed out the window, and Vox turned to see a gathering crowd of reporters and camera crews assembling around the front of the hotel.

"F-fuck."

"Off you go~!" With a gentle push, Alastor sent Vox on the most embarrassing walk of his life as he stumbled through the hotel, his slippers in hand.

Charlie, face glued to the front window nervously, whirled around when she heard footsteps. "Oh! Please, come again soon!" She smiled and waved at the demon, who simply huffed.

"I won't," he said under his breath, pushing open the doors to be greeted by reporters shouting and snapping pictures. What a mess.

When he finally got back to V Tower, he got quite the earful from both Velvette and Valentino. However, when they were alone together, Velvette grinned and scribbled a hand over Vox's ribs to make her friend giggle. It was cute, and goodness knows she needed a stress reliever now and then. Maybe she had to thank Alastor sometime for unintentionally gifting her such precious information. At least Vox didn't lose a limb in there: only every last shred of his dignity.

#ler!alastor #lee!vox #hazbin tickles #hazbin hotel tickles #kayde wrote something woah #kayde's in a lee mood tag

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owl-with-a-pen · 2 months

Text

Outside of superhero emergencies, Kara didn’t tend to lean into her super hearing where she could avoid it. Girl’s night at her apartment, for example, definitely shouldn’t have called for it. Then again, she wasn’t usually the subject of discussion in just about every apartment block on her street.

So, maybe that wasn’t completely true. She’d certainly heard her name mentioned a lot more since the whole secret identity reveal thing; it was just, nowadays, instead of hearing Supergirl, it was usually Kara Zor-El.

She was used to it. She’d been used to it for years; her name was normally a hot topic days, if not weeks after a major save was broadcast. The only difference now was… not all of those voices were as positive as she’d come to expect.

Like right now, for instance. No matter how hard she tried to shut it out, she couldn’t help but listen for that same voice echoing from hundreds of homes across the city, streaming from earbuds, speakers and laptops alike. His voice was charismatic and quick, like a less polished Maxwell Lord, and while he may have been a nobody just a few weeks ago, he’d certainly gained enough traction now to give Kara one hell of a headache.

Unfortunately for her, she’d inadvertently tuned herself in at just the right time for her downstairs neighbour to hit play:

“Alright folks, if you missed our last episode I’ll catch you up to speed. Last week, we rounded off at the crux of the Supergirl Problem; that she hasn’t just been living in our midst this whole time, but that she’s been actively working as a journalist for CatCo Worldwide Media. And, just a few weeks ago, she was publicly put in charge of the editorial process for that same media outlet minutes after she came clean about her alter-ego to the world. And, as I doubt Supergirl will want to speak for herself on the matter, we have one of her self-proclaimed super-fans in the house today to speak on her behalf. Say it with me at home folks, debate me, Supergirl!”

The aforementioned ‘super-fan’ let out a surprised scoff at her introduction. She didn’t waste a minute of her airtime, jumping immediately into the conversation: “Well, for starters, I think you’re taking this whole thing out of context. Supergirl didn’t just become a journalist for CatCo overnight. If you knew anything about Kara’s story, you’d know that she worked her way up the food chain for years! I mean, how empowering is that? She started as a PA!”

“Yeah, a PA with superspeed, how difficult. No wonder she ended up in Cat Grant’s palm! And yes, I do know her origin story, thank you very much.” The host’s voice crackled as Kara imagined him relaxing into his microphone. “Let the audience not forget that she was a PA for Cat Grant before she became a journalist. Are we really going to pretend that wasn’t her foot in the door?”

“Cat Grant wasn’t even her boss when she got into journalism,” argued the young woman. “And by the time Kara made a name for herself, Cat wasn’t even leading the company anymore! She got to where she is now on her own merit, no one elses!”

The host spoke over her: “It begs the question, did Cat Grant know this whole time? She takes a sabbatical only to re-emerge just in time to offer Supergirl a promotion. On top of that, she’s been promoting Supergirl for years! She created her – her words, on record. And now she’s put her in charge of media distribution. Get this: Supergirl is now in charge of the media we consume. Isn’t that a little self-indulgent?”

The young woman didn’t back down. “Kara Danvers was a Pultizer winning journalist long before we found out who she really was,” she argued. “She’s been standing for truth and justice just as much as Supergirl has. In fact, she’s just as much a hero as—”

“But what’s the agenda here?” the host continued with a conspiratorial air. “How can we even believe the news now it’s being headed by a liar? And she did, didn’t she? She lied to us all! She had a secret identity this whole time, and what? We’re just supposed to accept that? What’s the bet that this story will make a headline at CatCo magazine tomorrow morning, with my comments made out as Supergirl’s latest villain story? Or, better yet, will I be Kara Danver’s first official nemesis?” He barked out a laugh into his microphone. “There’s no freedom of the press anymore, folks, not when CatCo is bias towards the very hero that made it so popular in the first place!”

Before she could hear any more, Kara was thrown from her super-eavesdropping rather unceremoniously when a hand shot out in front of her face, waving impatiently.

“Earth to Kara,” Alex said, snapping her fingers in front of her sister’s nose. “Hey, anyone home?”

“Huh?” Kara said before screwing her eyes shut, swatting away Alex’s offending hand. “Hey, hey, stop that!”

It was only then that she realised that it wasn’t just Alex who had been trying to get her attention. Lena and Kelly were staring at her from the opposite sofa. Nia sat cross legged on the footstool by the coffee table, nursing her drink with an expectant expression.

Kara glanced lamely at the TV. It didn’t look like anyone had been paying attention to the movie for quite some time.

Just how long had she been…?

Kara tried not to cringe.

Kelly cleared her throat, smoothing her hands over her lap. “From your expression, I’m guessing you were listening in on something pretty important.” She hesitated. “Is everything okay?”

Kara’s eyes widened. “What? Oh, oh no, it’s not a superhero emergency, I swear. Girl’s night continues uninterrupted, I promise!”

“Okay,” Nia said with a slow smile. “Then what was with the—” She mimicked Kara’s spaced-out expression a little too well, earning a few grins at her expense.

Kara pursed her lips. “Uh—I mean. It was nothing. Just…” She sagged in on herself awkwardly. “Okay, so I may have been listening to this podcast…”

“Oof.” Alex winced. “You don’t wanna do that.”

Kara groaned, falling back against the sofa. “I’ve been trying not to, but it’s kinda hard when half of my building’s listening to it.” She rubbed aggressively at her ears. “Super hearing can really suck, you guys.”

“Wait,” Nia said, perking up. “Are you talking about the Debate Me, Supergirl podcast?” When everyone turned to stare at her, she shrugged. “What? Brainy’s been keeping tabs on all social channels for this stuff ever since your interview first went public, y’know, calculating the odds on them picking up any real traction. In case things go… south.”

“And what are the odds on this guy?” Alex asked seriously.

Nia made a vague gesture. “I mean, until a few days ago, Brainy had him in the unlikely category. But his latest interview with a Supergirl stan got a whole lot of attention on social media. They were basically at each other’s throats the entire time.” She took a mild sip of her drink. “People ate it up.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Of course they did. And I’m guessing from your tone, not much of the audience were on this super – uh – stan’s side?”

Nia pulled a face, taking an even larger swig.

Kara groaned again, burying her face in her hands. “This is awful. I- I just can’t believe how little faith they have in me now that they know the truth!”

Lena smiled her sympathy. “Take it from someone who was once deluded enough to fall right into that same category of hatefully ignorant.” She toasted her scotch glass to no one in particular, swirling its contents with a gentle twist of her wrist. “It’s not easy for people to accept that their larger-than-life hero was living amongst them.”

Kara’s head shot up in protest. “I never wanted anyone to put me on a pedestal.”

“Want has nothing to do about it. Like it or not, they did.” Lena paused, tucking her legs into the sofa’s arm. She fixed Kara with a level look. “Kara, I say this as your friend, but you have to understand how powerful you are in the eyes of a regular citizen. You fly, you shoot laser beams from your eyes, you’re bullet proof and fire proof. Your power is limitless and even though this city has seen you fall, they’ve also seen you get back up time and time again.”

Kara bit her lip. “That part I can understand, but it’s not just that. This podcaster isn’t only targeting my Supergirl persona. It’s Kara Danvers, Kara Zor-El that they don’t trust.” She snorted, throwing her hands wide. “They think the fact that I’m working as CatCo’s Editor-in-Chief makes the whole platform inherently bias. And – yes – I know I’ve fought my own biases in the past, and it’s not like being impartial was what won me a Pulitzer, but to them— a superhero in the press just doesn’t appeal. They think I’m a fraud, that I’ve been manipulating public opinion.” Kara could feel her face begin to flush in frustration. She ran a hand through her hair, standing just to put her energy somewhere. She slammed a fist against her palm, taking a step around the coffee table with every beat. “But, I mean, don’t they remember how CatCo turned on Supergirl after the Red Kryptonite incident? And rightfully, too. I lost the people’s trust then, and now—now it’s happening all over again and I just… I don’t know how to win them back,” she laughed through her teeth, “or if I can win them back!”

Alex took Kara’s arm swiftly as she passed her by, tugging her to her side. “Hey, no one said this was gonna be easy.”

“I think those were Cat’s exact words, actually,” Nia said helpfully, pointing in Alex’s direction.

Kara huffed, anchored by her sister’s steadying hand. “Yeah? Well, they didn’t say it would be this difficult, either.”

“Don’t listen to a few angry voices,” Nia insisted, her voice sobering. “They aren’t worth your energy, trust me.”

“Are they just a few?” Kara asked grimly. If she tried hard enough, she was sure she could still tune into hundreds of versions of that same podcast playing from across the city. Whether they agreed with him or not, the people of National City and beyond were listening to this nameless podcaster, and that was dangerous enough on its own.

Nia smiled tightly, balling her knuckles against her lap. “Just don’t listen to them, okay?” She closed her eyes. “Look, people like to make a lot of noise when they feel like they’ve been lied to, but the truth is, they were never entitled to that information to begin with. When I did my Dreamer interview with you, a lot of people were so supportive; some of them even saw themselves in me, but there were always hateful voices that tried to drown out the positive ones.” She straightened her back, opening her eyes. “But, y’know, they make that much noise because they know they’re in the minority, and they do not have the power that they think. Putting it into perspective like that… it’s a lot easier to ignore them, especially when I know how many people I’ve helped by sharing my story.”

“You’re right,” Kara said softly. Because she was. Of course she was. A single podcast spouting a single negative view didn’t diminish everything good that had come out of Supergirl’s identity reveal. Yes, the celebrity-level thing took some getting used to and openly flying to work made her something of a spectacle when it came to the office situation, but for the most part, Kara was relieved to have that weight off her shoulders, and it was a joy to know just how many aliens felt more confident to live as themselves now that they knew Supergirl had also shared their struggle.

In truth, the world knowing where she had come from, who she had been ever since she’d landed on Earth, grounded her to the people in a way that had never struck quite the same as just Supergirl. And that was worth any amount of growing pains.

Kara reached out for Nia’s hand over the coffee table, squeezing tight. “Thank you.”

Nia’s smile softened. “Any time.”

Lena cleared her throat, shifting higher against her pillow. “And, as for your job,” she said with a sly smile of her own, “let’s just say I know a thing or two about the public coming for your throat, deeming you unworthy of the position you’ve fairly worked your way up to. It’s just like Nia said, you ignore it, Kara. You ignore it because you have nothing to prove to anyone, you’re already doing one hell of a job as a journalist. Remain honest with yourself, and eventually people will see it. Not everyone of course.” She tilted her head, raising her glass to her lips. “You’ll never have everyone’s approval. If you did, well, I’d say you were on another planet, because that’s certainly not how the human race are wired.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Nia chimed in, leaning up to clink her glass with Lena’s. She caught Kelly’s glass on her way back.

Kelly smiled fondly, though there was a strained edge to her expression when she said, “We’ve all had to work twice as hard to prove ourselves. And as much as it hurts, that extends to Supergirl as well.”

Kara sat back down with a sigh, leaning into the embrace that Alex readily offered her. “Cat once told me the same thing; right after she’d first claimed Supergirl, actually.”

“Exactly,” Alex said with a sage nod. She kissed her sister’s hair. “And, hey, Cat Grant won’t let a podcast beat down her creation. Hell, her empire is built on powerful women, it always has been, always will.” She gestured to everyone in the room. “You are all prime examples of that.”

Kara nudged her sister playfully, pushing out of her arms. “Hey, well, the amount of times the DEO has personally kept that building from crashing to the ground, I’d say you’re an honorary member of Cat’s empire, too.”

Alex’s nose crinkled. “I think I prefer the title of badass DEO leader, but I’ll take it.” She grinned, rolling her eyes. “The point is, you have us, Kara.”

“Yeah.” Nia beamed. “And our opinion is worth a million times more than some crappy podcast.”

“Oh, cheers to that, too!” Alex laughed and they all converged with their glasses, meeting with a raucous clash over the coffee table.

Cheers rang out all ‘round, and Kara let the simple joy of that moment infect her. Their combined laughter easily blotted out any chances of hearing another word from that podcaster’s mouth.

She'd lost the taste for eavesdropping, anyway.

#supergirl #supergirl fanfiction #kara danvers #kara zor el #lena luthor #alex danvers #nia nal #kelly olsen #my writing #another dialogue-only project that expanded into an actual story #this one has been on my mind literally since the series finale #i feel like kara's identity reveal would easily stir up some chaos with people and split opinions. i could write essays on ideas i have #about what a season 7 may have looked like. but i'll settle with this shorter story piece that kind of wraps the whole conflict #into an easily digestible oneshot #enjoy!

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the-radio-demon-blog · 3 months

Text

Salutations, all you lovely denizens of Hell!

I am a man of my time and I have been recently introduced to this wonderous site by our dear Princess Charlie Morningstar. While I detest most electronic devices, this place called "Tumbling" is quite a subline site!

I know I have been as you all would call it, "A media sensation" and my, I would love to meet all you wonderous folk.

On this site I shall dabble in the activities which follow starting today:

I will accept asks about anything concerning my radio board cast! I'm sure I shall find a few interesting folk on my media journey.

I shall do a song of the day through an "ask" and I shall give that said song an announcement. This is a radio broadcast after all. Music is my life and soul. Jazz more so but I shall tolerate newer tunes.

Anonymous asks are accepted. I understand the necessity for anonymity.

I do not support the Vees or Vox's enterprise nor am I encouraging their social media nonsense. I am simply dipping my hooves in the waters.

No folks under 18 please and thank you on this blog (minors DNI)! I will not be checking every blog since it would be rather laborious. I am trusting that you will know better to respect my wishes by not interacting with this blog and keep yourself safe.

Lovely souls that I possess (starting from earlier deals to most recently):

@ashh-does-art

@rabbitkissertadc589

@i-genuinely-dunno

@saturn-alone

@that-one-furry-sky

@clearpoolart

Pet: Stanley (gifted by Gator), a dapper alligator. Orders are Sit, Stay, and CHOMP.

Temporary IMPORTANT note: Replies will be slower than usual today and tomorrow due to a project Charlie is insisting everyone work on.

Adieu, my lovely listeners!

Character Texts:

Alastor

Charlie Morningstar

Angel Dust

Niffty

Husk

Lucifer

Other Characters: TBD

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radioisntdead · 2 months

Note

Could I request Rosie introducing Alastor to the woman she's been courting for about a month? She's a respectable cannibal lady who died at the end of the 1920s.

Good evening my dear! I did headcanons and I hope you enjoy! These are short because half of it got deleted the first time and I lost energy the second time around.

Rosie introducing reader to Alastor headcanons

Rosie simply adores you! After all you were not only well-liked and respected in the community, but you were charming, truly a joy to be around, if it wasn't for the cannibalism she was sure you would've ended up in heaven!

After the two of you courted for a month or so she decided it was high time for her dearest friend to meet you!

And who was her dearest friend?

That's right! The horrifying radio demon himself, the Embodiment of deer themed red-40, Alastor!

And so she send out an invite to Alastor inviting him to meet her darling, You!

Rosie makes sure EVERYTHING is perfect for when she introduces the two of you, prepares both you and Alastor's favorite cannibal treats, makes sure SUSAN IS NOT NEARBY. [She's probably nearby]

Alastor's very abit judgey, he's polite but judgey.

Rosie hasn't had the best luck with her past romances and while cooking your closest's friend's former spouse is a jolly good time! It's not as a jolly good time when they're sad because that former spouse wasn't the greatest partner to them.

The two of you even had things in common, Like Cannibalism, and a great distain for Susan.

Thankfully you weren't like her past romances! You made a lovely impression on him when you arrived with a lovely bouquet of roses for Rosie along with a box of her favorite type of chocolate covered eyeballs and other body parts.

He hopes your good to Rosie, he'd hate to broadcast your tortured screams on his marvelous radio show to all of hell!

Rosie's very pleased that the two of you get along!

Good evening folks! I do hope you enjoyed these little headcanons, I'm putting out three or so fics so tune on in later today for that! I hope you all have a wonderful night and as per usual thank you for tuning in!

Psst! You should join our discord!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel rosie x reader #hazbin rosie x reader #rosie x reader

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goodlucksnez · 4 months

Text

So after listening to Zen's Wav, I had a idea to continue. So I gathered some friends and we continued the story with a little nod to @instarsandcrime as well!

So enjoy the continuation!

Al//astor: @onetrickponi

Lu//cifer: @zensations35

V//ox: @goodlucksnez

See below for script!

Alastor: Ah! The man of the hour! Just the person I was hoping to encounter…Now then. Time for a little r̴̈e̷͋g̵͛i̷͊c̷̉ǐ̵d̷̃ë̴́

Lucifer: Oh no…*sneeze* Not you again. What is it this time?

Alastor: As it turns out, sire, not only do you bestow hellish grace upon your subjects, but pestilence as well! ’Allergies.’ Hah! I should have known.

Lucifer: Well if someone hadn’t insisted I come on their show with only two days notice!

Alastor: Aha-hA! If someone would answer their phone more than once a month, your nibs–

*Lucifer sneezes*

Alastor: Well. Glad to see your smoky sternutations aren’t exclusive to my studio, at least. Goodness, I do hope this wallpaper is flame-resistant.*ṣ̶͐n̸̺͐ḙ̸̽e̸̲͂z̸̩͋i̷̠͐n̴̨̊g̸̩̿* Pardon.

Lucifer: Hey! Don’t bust out my lights! I’m working on an important project!

Alastor: And now no one has to see it! Pity. :)

*Voxtech Show Theme Plays*

Vox: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most electrifying news show in the multiverse! I’m your host, Vox, and I’m here to deliver the latest headlines with a dash of charisma, a sprinkle of wit, and a whole lot of tea *clinking cup* *cup falls*

Vox: *ignoring fallen cup* Tonight on our program we will go over the most recent broadcast from the King of Hell and the less important interviewer *cackle*

Vox: Ahh how good it feels in my studio! I must say our brand is perfection, it just won't do for anything Less. Than. That. *snigger*

Vox: Unlike a certain old tyrant my studio is made for the highest of royalty. So if any princes or kings want a real experience, come down to Vees tower and I would love to give you a personalized tour from the Man in Charge.

Alastor: *sneezing* Pompous, vicious little prick…

Lucifer: Ugh.. *sniff* I hate that guy…”Man in Charge”? And they call me prideful??

Vox: I mean really you just walk in, and it’s chaos. Papers everywhere, coffee stains on the desk, *laugh* it isn't even in a proper studio but an old water tower! Talk about tacky. Unprofessional, if you ask me. But here? Every cable is tucked away, every surface polished--

[Vox continues his spiel while Alastor sneezes]

Alastor: *sneezing*

Vox:-- to a mirror sheen. We believe in excellence, not just in our content but in our environment, that that is what VoxTex is here to provide you. So, when you tune in to our show, rest assured, you’re getting the crème de la crème. Quality, class, and cleanliness–

Alastor: That isn’t even properly alliterative…

Lucifer: Are you kidding me? His place is a walking fire hazard! Or, not walking. Standing? But I know fire hazards! Man, I wish I could just…*sneezes*

Alastor: HaHAh!…Well, then I’m sure you will appreciate this next bit, Sire.

Vox: *sniffling* *sneezing* I must apologize, my dear viewers *sneezing* but it seems that even the most prepared among us can be caught off guard. It appears I’m having a bit of a g̶͎͑-̵̓ͅg̵̪̑-̷̖͠G̴̥͒L̶̟̈I̷͈͑T̵̀͜C̸̣͝H̸̖͒—nothing serious, but we believe in safety first here at Vox industries.

*Vox continues sneezing throughout his spiel*

Vox: We’re all about transparency and this is as real as it gets. Fucking bitch! I’m going to step off for a moment to take care of this, and in the meantime, we’ll be ending today’s broadcast a tad earlier than scheduled. FuckI’mgonnafuckingkillhim--Our team is top-notch, and they’ll ensure everything is handled with the utmost professionalism. Thank you for your understanding. We’ll be back on air tomorrow, bright and shiny as ever, ready to bring you the stellar content you love.

Vox: Cut it! That fucking bitch, I know this is his doing I’m gonna kill him!!

Alastor: *sneezing* *laughing*

Lucifer: Hoh yeah! Highfive!

Alastor: I beg your pardon?

Lucifer: You…you just take your hand and…uhh…*high five sound*

Alastor: Mmm I suppose. But don’t make a habit out of this, sire.

Lucifer: Eheh…okay…

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stardewstardropthoughts · 2 years

Note

ahh imagine the bachelors when you’re pregnant talking to your belly to get the baby to calm down at night. like the baby likes to keep you awake at night by kicking you directly in the ribs and the only thing that works is your husbands voice.

I think shane would feel super awkward at first since hes not much of a talker anyway, but it becomes a cherished nightly routine for him in the last few weeks of your pregnancy “hello, papa shane reporting for duty, its time to chill out so your mother can get some sleep” and tell it chicken stories, elliott would read poetry and shakesphere, Alex would probably talk sports to it.

I would LOVE to hear your headcanons

Deadass sleeping while pregnant is so hard, and when the tiny child your growing rolls they’re whole body while your trying to sleep? It feels so weird 😂 also listen I know Skyrim isn’t in Stardew but I love it and I know Sebastian would also, lemme have this lmao

The bachelors talking to your baby bump to calm down your unborn child so you can sleep

Harvey:

Probably a bit nervous at first because he isn’t sure what to say

But when your having issues sleeping because your unborn child keeps kicking you as hard as they can he agrees to give it a shot

Gently lays his head on your bump

“Hey there little one, your moms out here trying her best to grow you and she needs to sleep to do that, think you might be able to settle down a bit?”

Is surprised when his voice seems to calm the unborn child down

Very quickly becomes his favorite part of the nightly routine

“Well hello in there tiny one, thank you for tuning into the nightly talk show. Today we’re gonna learn about you! That’s right, tonight’s broadcast is all about your growth”

Your giggling at his little radio show impersonation

Alex:

Ya know those TikTok videos of people doing little handshakes with their wife’s pregnant bellies and then when the baby’s born? He’s doing that, just wanted to add in that tid bit lol

He probably noticed you were having issues sleeping and he could see all the wild movements from the outside

Leans down and starts talking to the bump

“Hey kiddo, I know your doing your own thing in there but momma needs to sleep, whatcha need?”

When you tell him the baby calmed down after hearing his voice he’s thrilled

Will 100% explain the rules of gridby in depth to your unborn child

“Okay so if you wanna grow up big and strong like your daddy, your gonna have to have proper nutrition, lucky for you I have years experience”

Spends almost every night at bedtime telling your unborn child all about the farm and gridby and of-course rusty the dog

Sam:

Mans been talking to your baby way before they could hear or acknowledge him

He’s just so excited

“Hey little guy, mommy’s trying to sleep so we gotta calm down, I know you wanna shred but once your out I’ll teach ya to skateboard”

Definitely goes over skateboarding safety with your unborn child

“Sam he’s not even born yet”

“Okay but he’s gotta know how to grind the pipe baby, it’s a great skill”

100% also going to blow a raspberry on your bump to startle the baby cause it’s funny

Shane:

Dude definitely chats with your baby bump all the time

Especially when your cuddling so mostly at night when y’all are going to bed

Probably the reason the infant can’t stop kicking you without hearing from daddy first

“Hey kiddo, you’ll never guess what kinda antics the chickens got up to today, I can’t wait to introduce you to Charlie”

Definitely brought Charlie in the house once and put him on your bump

“Hey kiddo, this is Charlie, he’s my favorite chicken but don’t tell the others that”

You gently pat Charlie’s head while he looks very confused about the situati

Sebastian:

Mans fully prepared to teach your kid all about video games when Theyer old enough

But when they won’t stop kicking you at night unless he talks to them? Now they get to learn early

“So in Skyrim right? There’s a whole character builder and you get to pick what race you want to be, I always go for dark elf personally but you can be whatever you want”

It’s like two hours later, your asleep and he’s still going

“So when you get to white run you have to find the jarl and tell him about the dragons attacking helgen so he’ll send troops to riverwood and then there’s a whole side mission to go on to get the dragon stone and-“

Notices your soft snoring and chuckles to himself silently

“Okay kiddo, we’ll pick this up again tomorrow night, good night my little tadpole, love you”

Presses a little kiss to your bump before going to sleep

Elliott:

This mans been reading poems and story’s to your bump since he learned that baby’s can hear and recognize voices

It’s a nice little nightly routine, after baths and pjs and whatever snack your craving you both settle in and he grabs a book

Tonight’s book selection is the complete works of Edgar Allen Poe

“Alright little one, it’s story time”

Cozy’s up with his head on your bump

“Once upon a midnight dreary, as I pondered weak and weary over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore”

Loves knowing he can sooth the baby even before They’re born yet

Also loves knowing he can provide a bit more comfort to you as you grow them

#stardew fanfic #stardew valley #stardew farmer #stardew x reader #stardew headcanon #stardew marriage #stardew elliott #stardew harvey #stardew sam #stardew sebastian #stardew shane #stardew alex

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uzumaki-rebellion · 10 months

Text

"King Killmonger: The Golden Jaguar" Chapter 2

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

youtube

Chapter 2

"I wanna be the ocean that pulls you under Wanna be the lightning in your thunder Wanna be the force that brings you love Somewhere from the sky above

I can give you glory Give you all the strength in me Strong enough to hold us down So, baby, put your faith in me…"

Yuna—"Glory"

Yani's glam team sprayed a setting mist across her face to give her make-up an extra sheen for her interview with Robin Roberts. Millions were predicted to tune in for the live broadcast of the future Queen of Wakanda.

"You have siren eyes."

She glanced at her personal make-up artist Ndidi who stood back staring at Yani's face in the green-room mirror.

"What now?" Yani said giving the woman her full attention.

"Your eyes Princess Yani…they are like the sirens in the sea that lure people in," Ndidi replied.

"Some would say that's a bad thing if you know the Greek and Roman myths."

"We are Wakandan, we have our own myths. Mama Wati uses sirens from our land to lure us to a righteous path. Today you represent Mama Wati and will show the world how powerful we are."

Yani inhaled the fresh spritz of perfume layered over her body. The scent mingled in with the light oil on her skin. It smelled like home. Wakanda.

"Beautiful," Ramonda said.

The Wakandan Ambassador peered at Yani from behind an empty chair. Wunsaa, the royal stylist twisted a shapeable, textured headwrap to crown the complete look of Birnin Zana couture. Ramonda tapped her kimoyo beads and a bullet point sheet floated in front of Yani's face.

"Ms. Roberts is aware of the parameters we've set forth for this interview. N'Jadaka has read them and approves," Ramonda said.

Yani enlarged some script to read better and flicked the image back over to Ramonda. In her mind, she went over her media training and cleared her head of negative intrusive thoughts. The media had already gone nuts over the revelation of N'Jadaka's American background. She knew that her own past had probably been picked over by Roberts and her team. Good Morning America was the premiere morning show that galvanized a large cross-section of American viewers. Yani would use her charms to appease the U.S. fear of her fiancé. She had to disguise his wrath and hatred for America by playing up the wonders of Wakanda. Her task was great, but if beauty had to be used as a balm to lull the ops, she would use every drop of it.

A studio manager approached her personal Dora and relayed a message that their segment was ready to start in five minutes. They needed Yani to join Roberts in the studio. The first half would be a one-on-one with Roberts, and then Ramonda would join her for the second half. N'Jadaka wanted Black Americans to see two powerful Black Wakandan women speaking together. He believed they would dominate online discourse and paint the image he wanted the world to have: his reliance on women to move progress forward. A powerful Black Queen and an equally formidable Black woman Ambassador was a visual one-two punch in the gut for the media to gobble up.

"This way, Princess Yani," the studio manager said.

Yani and her Dora followed close behind and her stylish royal purple dress covered the clacking of her high heels. From head to toe Yani was meticulously adorned and dressed to convey power and ultra femininity.

"Americans love to romanticize royalty…especially a princess becoming a queen. Lean into it Yani, give them the fantasy. Seduce them," N'Jadaka had told her.

He was with their children, spending time alone with them while she represented the nation on her own. Ramonda stayed by her side and knew her place was to steer conversations clear of political speculation pertaining to the king. Thus, Yani could focus on being a delightful guest selling her popular book.

"Princess Yani, Ambassador Udaku, thank you so much for being here," Roberts said.

"Thank you for having us today," Yani said.

Yani took her seat on a tall white chair near Roberts as bright studio lights were adjusted and the GMA crew prepped the selected audience members who were seated across from them posted up at small tables. A stage hand led Ramonda aside to await her time on air. The Onyx Squad security team kept watch over the audience and Yani's Dora guarded Ramonda.

Behind them on a wallscreen was a picture of Yani's book. She waited with calm poise as the stage director gave the signal that they were live. Ignoring the cameras, Yani stared at Roberts.

"It is such a wonderful honor to have Princess Yani of Wakanda here with us today," Roberts stated keeping her eyeline on the camera, "Her blockbuster book, 'The Wakandan Way of Birth' hit the shelves by storm and gave the world a glimpse into the extraordinary nation we're beginning to know more about. Welcome to Good Morning America, Princess Yani."

The audience clapped with enthusiastic energy and Yani nodded graciously toward the camera facing her.

"I'm glad to be here."

"Is this your first time in America?"

"No, I have been to Miami, Florida a few times."

"There's so much I want to ask, and I must say…first of all, 'The Wakandan Way of Birth" is such a phenomenal book. Whatever we imagined Wakanda to be was nowhere near what you have shown us with your words and the fantastic photography. What made you want to start the book with letters to your Aunt Leona in St. Thomas?"

Yani smiled and shifted forward in her seat at the sound of her aunt's name.

"My aunt is the most important person to me out of the elders I have left from my island life. I wanted readers to get a feel of what it was like for me to be in Wakanda…studying…learning the language and becoming a part of a powerful family…"

The first eight minutes were pleasant and Roberts shared images from the book and allowed Yani to gush about Wakanda with wide-eyed wonder. Roberts laughed and her entire face lit up from listening to Yani. During a commercial break, Yani's make-up was checked and her head wrap was tightened as Ramonda joined the conversation. Roberts reached out and shook Ramonda's hand. The stage director pointed at them and the interview continued.

Ramonda was an old pro and simply underlined all that Yani shared. She didn't step on Yani's toes by taking over or talking to much, only followed Yani's lead. A picture of Yani and N'Jadaka leaving the CBC dinner flashed behind them.

"That right there is a beautiful couple. How did you meet the king?" Roberts asked.

Yani grinned, prepared for the question.

"I was about to start nursing school in and I worked cleaning rental properties for tourists to pay for my education. King N'Jadaka was on vacation before heading to Wakanda and we met and fell in love there."

"You were like Cinderella?"

"Sort of," Yani said before giggling at the memory.

"Has it been a whirlwind for you? Being thrust into the limelight? It can't be easy becoming a queen and balancing a career."

Yani kept her eyes on Roberts and prepared herself for the weaseling in of political gotchas. She tread carefully by keeping her tone light and airy.

"I've found a balance. My philanthropic projects are very important to me so it doesn't feel like work or a burden on my time. King N'Jadaka supports me completely and Ambassador Udaku's experience and legacy of being a queen has provided the foundation I can build on."

Yani glanced at Ramonda and the queen mother appeared touched by her sincere words.

"There have been some pundits across the political spectrum that question the influence of Wakanda and the controversial remarks King N'Jadaka has made at the U.N. recently. Do you worry about being misunderstood…or being seen as a threat to democracy on the continent of Africa?"

Yani kept her composure. She didn't look at Ramonda, although she could sense the woman's steely dark brown eyes turned her way. Yani's gaze remained on Roberts.

"Although we are a monarchy, we follow democratic principles with our parliament and seek to bring peaceful resolutions to African nations that reach out to us. King N'Jadaka knows what it takes to support democracy. His exemplary military service in the U.S. Navy and being a highly decorated Navy SEAL proves his dedication to fulfilling America's promise of being a beacon of hope to other countries in need. After his service, he used his training to provide expertise to private security companies internationally, many of which supported the U.S. military in the most dangerous parts of the world."

"Mercenary work?" Roberts asked.

"His detractors like to call him that to disparage him, but his private security contract work is above reproach."

"Working for private armies makes many mainstream Americans uncomfortable, especially with the poor reputations of a few big name companies that have come under fire in the last two years."

"King N'Jadaka worked for reputable companies…not the ones that have been in the news. He grew up as a well-travelled individual and his mother's legacy only proves that he seeks justice and progressive change in war-torn areas of the world. We balance one another and our main focus is lowering Black maternal death, ending the rise of global femicide, and protecting the environment. Recently my foundation partnered with the Native American Student Alliance, a Pan-Indigenous University collective to help Indigenous Americans throughout the U.S. with funding to complete medical degrees so that they may return to tribal lands where we are building free clinics and birthing centers. We have been bridging the gap in rural areas where affordable natal care and hospitals are not present for Black and Native people. We've done the same in the Caribbean too. Next year we start building in parts of South America."

"You bring up his mother, Califia Stevens. She and the Sao Paulo Four were recently exonerated from claims that they plotted to kill police officers in Brazil over twenty years ago. The documentary about them won an Oscar last month. How do you think the positive reception to her legacy motivates King N'Jadaka?"

"He is proud of his mother's legacy. Califia was an educator, activist, and powerful orator. N'Jadaka is building his own legacy from the lessons she taught him before her untimely death at the hands of a corrupt and racist judicial system. N'Jadaka is a man of principle, peace, and prosperity for those who support him. He represents the best of Wakanda and America."

"I think you also represent the best of Wakanda, Princess Yani. Ambassador Udaku thank you so much for joining us and sharing your insight too. We here at GMA are so lucky to bring Princess Yani's story to the American public. For those out there watching, run, don't walk…pick up your copy of "The Wakandan Way of Birth". It is a timely keepsake and a window into the splendor of an amazing new world that we are finally being privy to. For more information about Princess Yani's non-profit and Global Midwifery Scholarships, you can check our website for links."

The small audience clapped and Yani stood up with Roberts.

"This was an incredible opportunity to speak with you in person," Roberts said.

Yani gave her a hug and they chatted for a few minutes before her security team led her away with Ramonda at her side.

"I don't think it was wise to speak on N'Jadaka's past work as we discussed at the earlier briefing," Ramonda whispered.

"I think I handled it fine. I'm sure her producers made her ask the question. I support my husband. They will never trip me up or catch me lying about his past. I gave them a patriotic freedom fighter. His mother is a legend and no one will come for him in the diaspora outside of Africa. Besides, N'Jadaka taught me how to play poker. His first lesson was to play a hand the opponent wants to see, so they think they're winning. Bringing up his loyalty to the American military will make the Defense Department leery about any more negative stories coming out about him because it will point the finger back at them. They taught him all their tricks and God forbid our king should write a book himself or start spilling C.I.A. secrets."

"Your confidence and daring is that of a true queen, Yani," Ramonda said before sharing a sly grin.

"I have the best teacher."

Yani squeezed Ramonda's elbow and walked faster to leave the studio behind. It was time to be with her children and N'Jadaka.

Yani greeted the Kingsguard that watched the entrance to the Upper East Side Manhattan mansion the Udaku family used for the short stay in New York. Entering a second floor family room, she heard the plucky sounds of a berimbau recording, and spotted N'Jadaka sitting against a winged-back chair with Sydette braiding his long locs. Joba and Riki jumped around each other practicing capoeira in the middle of an expensive rug.

"Duck your head Joba…good…Riki, ya gotta lift that leg higher…higher…yeah, there ya go," N'Jadaka said.

He clapped his hands to add more percussive beats to the lone berimbau and the two children leaped and swung their legs at each other, not afraid to make hard contact or fall down on their rumps. They both had become better fighters and N'Jadaka toyed with the idea of taking them down to Brazil for a baptisado. Yani watched Sydette try to twist the thick braids of her father's hair into a bun, but her small hands had trouble doing it.

"I got it Sweet Pea," Yani said,

She took over fastening the locs into a tight ball and tucked it at the nape. N'Jadaka's hair smelled like the sweet pink oils Umama made for him that gave his locks a glossy shine. She stroked the ginger of his birthmark in the twisted strands and glanced at Riki's soft matching cloud of color on his head.

Yani lowered her head and N'Jadaka kissed her lips.

"Where is everyone else?" Yani asked.

"Resting before you all leave."

"Ramonda went to see an acquaintance for brunch. She said her things are packed already. I still need to gather my stuff."

"You have time."

Sydette scampered off to read a book in another room. N'Jadaka tapped his kimoyo beads and the berimbau music stopped.

"Go play. I need to talk with Mama in private," he said.

Riki and Joba gave Yani kisses on her cheek before leaving them alone. N'Jadaka took a seat on the chair and Yani sat on his lap. They held onto each other enjoying the peace and quiet.

"How did I do?" she asked.

"Everything I expected. You blew up social media and Roberts was gracious enough to not push too hard. I think it's because you won her over so easily talking about the book. Your personality does it every time, baby. Just like I told you it would. You're a natural storyteller and showed those people how fly we are. It's a gift. People are in love with you."

"Are you ready to meet with President Ellis?"

"Yeah. I'll fly there early and leave as soon as possible."

He rubbed on her arm.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Theresa agreed to stay in Wakanda. It took some time to convince her husband of that fact. She wants to be with Joba and I think it will help her deal with the loss of Disa…raising her grandbaby in Africa."

Yani lowered her gaze.

"Ah, Yani…hey. You're a wonderful mother to Joba. I don't want you feeling like Theresa has issues with you raising Sunshine. She wants to help you and be close to all of us. Joba is the only gift of Disa's that she has left in this world."

Yani nodded.

"Joba has been so happy having her grandma again. Tell me honestly…is Theresa okay with us?" she asked.

"She is. That's why she wants to be with us…to feel connected."

"Good."

"Theresa loves me to death and she's grateful that Joba is healthy and happy with her father and Umi Yani. We are all family. I won't have to ship my baby girl off so much here anymore. That's a good thing."

Yani held onto N'Jadaka. After a time, they clasped hands and went downstairs to make themselves tea. They talked about home and the wedding, and she reveled in his joy. She couldn't tell who was more excited about getting married. He spoke of the Queen's Ball that everyone in Wakanda was looking forward to. There were receptions in various cities planned and the biggest one was going to be the Clan Gathering for the Panther tribe. Yani's name would be transcribed onto the Udaku family lineage documents sealing her reign for eternity.

Once her role shifted in Birnin Zana, Yani knew she would be up against formidable naysayers in the Court of Nobles. The power of the queendom would protect her somewhat, but Wakandan nobles were petty and vicious. The moment the crown was on her head, she planned to give them hell from Day One. Being nice and accommodating had gotten her nowhere. It was time to bring out her panther claws.

Overseeing the final packing of the children's clothing, Yani watched their travel staff move suitcases and gifts onto the half cruiser. Ramonda arrived back on time to join them in a heartfelt farewell to the king.

Theresa and her husband, along with Disa's siblings and their own families hugged N'Jadaka. They settled inside the spacious aircraft that floated above the mansion leaving Yani to say goodbye to N'Jadaka.

"We'll be together again soon. Then our time will begin," N'Jadaka whispered into her ear.

He squeezed his arms around her and Yani squeezed back. For a month they had planted seeds around the world that would grow gardens in their favor with the global public. The tide had already shifted after her final book tour interview.

"Go before I run off with y'all," N'Jadaka said.

Yani strode up the half cruiser ramp and took her seat among the family. For six hours they flew across the world picking up relatives in the islands and Brazil, before arriving at the palace under the cover of darkness. She carried a sleeping Joba in her arms. Dante carried Riki, and Sydette walked on her own looking drowsy from the flight.

She breathed a heavy sigh of relief being back inside the sanctuary of their palace abode.

Home.

She was finally home.

Ilana and Zola helped her undress and she crawled into N'Jadaka's bed for the night. The weighted blankets and incense odors reminded her of him and she snuggled into a blissful sleep. She awoke the next day to find a small giftbox on the nightstand with her tea. A note was attached to it.

"Yani, this is a sunrise pendant. I wanted you to have it on your first sunrise back home after a long trip. I'll be home soon and I can't wait to see you again. You are my sun, Love, Jaja."

She opened the sparkly yellow box and looked down at a small precious pure gold pendant shaped like a teardrop that represented the mythical form of Ilanga Intomba, the daughter of Bast who brought light to the world at her mother's request. Etched into the gold were slanted eyes and a whimsical pair of lips with a sly smile.

Yani palmed the gift and looked out toward the wall-sized window. Rain decorated the protected glass. Despite the gray clouds floating above, small slivers of sunlight peeked out. She chose to wear a billowy yellow dress and fastened the pendent under her neckline. Fluffing out the soft curls on her head, she joined the rest of the entire family for brunch in the guest dining hall. Her children played with cousins and helped Toussaint walk on wobbly legs making Nakia smile. Yani greeted Shuri, Umama, and Twyla happily before greeting the rest of the extended Udaku clan. N'Jadaka's Aunt Serah and Uncle Addae arrived from Europe on a separate flight. Several long tables were decorated and filled with heaps of good food and various libations. They all chattered loudly about Yani's appearance on American television.

Umama sat proudly next to her, patting Yani's hand and extolling to everyone the virtues she displayed while telling the world about her soon-to-be husband. Their meal ended with a pleasant walk with everyone in the royal garden to inspect the wedding gazebo view that would be set up for the outdoor reception. All of their numerous family wedding guests looked impressed with the gorgeous view of the river and the animal sanctuary across from it. Spending several hours with everyone drained her and she retired to her palace home to rest before dinner. Theresa and her husband kept her children giving Yani a chance to relax on her own.

Ilana and Zola helped her inspect the dinner attire choices from her home staff inside her spacious tea room. It was decided that she would continue her color theme of yellow and saffron with a two piece jacket and skirt ensemble. After her stylist team vacated the tea room with the racks of clothing and accessories they brought, Ilana and Zola could barely contain themselves.

Yani poured them pre-dinner wine and settled in for all the tea-spilling from the loose lips of her friends.

"Brace yourself," Zola said.

Ilana pressed her long polished nails against her throat and could barely contain the squirming in her seat as Zola squealed.

"Remy got engaged to Lady Ime of the Mining tribe. They announced it four days ago," Zola gushed.

"Lady Ime?" Yani said.

"Yes," Ilana yelped. "That harlot has been waiting ages to align with a powerful family. Word on the Court of Nobles is that Lady Omphile is devastated. Her and Lady Ime have feigned being close since primary school and now the truth has come out…Ime plotted to overshadow her all this time. Scandalous! You should be happy!"

"Why would I be happy about that?" Yani said.

"Eh-eh! Yani! This means that those two witches will leave you alone and tear each other apart. Everyone knows Ime's family wanted her to be King N'Jadaka's Wakandan consort to stir up trouble for you, while Omphile wanted Remy, but now, those two evil goats must fight among themselves," Zola said.

"Hmmm, two down, a dozen more to go," Yani sighed.

"Don't think that way, Yani. Your eloquence and beauty on the book tour made us all proud. I tell you now before Bast, the wind is blowing in a new direction. Those long tongues will tangle elsewhere on the court. All we have to think about is the wedding of the century! Yours!"

Ilana stamped her dainty feet on the floor thinking about the wedding and all the new gossip shared with Yani. She noticed Zola smirking as she held up her half empty glass of wine from the Udaku vineyard in Birnin Bashenga. Yani leaned back on her seat and eyeballed her friend suspiciously.

"What more is there?" Yani asked.

Zola glanced at Ilana and the two women started cackling. Ilana pulled out a small wrapped gift from her purse lying on the table in front of a half empty white wine bottle.

"We just thought maybe you'd like to give Remy and his new fiancé an engagement gift as a small token from the royals."

Yani put down her glass.

"You two want me to put Ime in her place to shame her. She wanted to be in my position, but failed," Yani said.

"Serves her right. Omphile too. She wanted Remy and the king too if she could have access. Now she gets to see how it feels to plot against someone and lose her own dream of happiness," Zola said.

"Ladies, we are bigger than that," Yani said.

"No we are not. If you don't go, I will go to his office myself and give it on your behalf," Ilana said.

"You wouldn't."

"I would!"

"Oh for Bast's sake! Indulge us with a final blow to your number one haters as princess. You won't be able to get away with overt pettiness as queen. They were cruel to you ever since you arrived, paid gossip vloggers to talk trash about you on our intranet, and never gave you peace," Zola added.

Yani was tempted.

"What did you pick out for them?" Yani asked.

She lifted the gift and shook it. Nothing rattled inside. There was a small silver clasp that held the powdery blue box closed.

"Earrings. For both of them. A betrothal march token to show favor. People would kill to receive something from you," Ilana said.

Yani unfastened the clasp and looked at the two sets of earrings set inside ebony velvet. The male set were small gold and silver hoops threaded with a lavender leafing shaped to look like a creeping vine that surrounded the palace. The female set were bigger hoops of the same design. Yani snapped the box closed and glared at her Ladies-in-Waiting.

"Serious?" Yani sputtered holding out the box to Ilana.

Both women refused to take the gift back well aware of the meaning that upset Yani.

"You two expect me to give this to them with a straight face?"

Zola shrugged and sipped her wine, crossing her leg in defiance. Ilana grinned, then lifted a meat pastry from their snack tray, pulling away the flaky crust absentmindedly.

"Send them a message," Zola said.

The vine motif on the earrings was a symbol of losing a cherished prize. In a well-cherished Wakandan fairy tale, a greedy peasant tried to shoot an arrow into a fairy's cloud using the vine attached to climb the lofty height into the heavens to steal their precious jewels. The fairy, very much aware of the treachery from down below, set the vine on fire and the greedy peasant fell back to earth where they were shamed by others. The vine warned modern children not to reach beyond their capacity for nefarious reasons and often represented the losing side. For Yani to hand it over to Ime as a gift meant that she was putting the noble in her rightful place beneath the queen. A literal jabbing in her side that screamed, "Bitch you thought." The symbolism was a deliberate counterattack. Open warfare in a tightly guarded class.

There was no need to start another uncivil war in the Court of Nobles. Yani stuck the box inside the pocket of her dress.

"I will trade this in for something more appropriate," Yani said.

"Parter pooper," Zola said.

Ilana laughed and glanced at her kimoyos. "Oh, my," she said.

She grabbed Yani's hand and pulled her toward the exit.

"My bridal gift for your office is arriving! I want you to see it now to make sure it fits," Ilana said.

Yani and Zola followed Ilana for a long walk to the West Palace. Staff and politicians acknowledged her presence with lowered heads and genuine smiles for her return to royal life. Moving up floors they entered Yani's brand new office suite where her loyal queen's staff welcomed her back and congratulated the successful book tour. Looking around Yani took delight in how the new workspace came together with the decorator she hired. Two burly men waited with a large white box in the anteroom.

"This way," Ilana told them, heading toward Yani's private area.

The new office was bright with corals and mother-of-pearl pink giving a light airy ambiance. Ilana pushed away an antique desk chair that Yani had brought down from the family library to use as her executive seat.

"Put it there," Ilana said.

The men placed the large box behind the elaborate U-shaped jade and glass office desk. Pulling it open revealed a custom executive chair fit for a queen.

"Ilana!"

Yani jumped onto the chair and marveled at the rich leather texture and the embellished armrests with symbols of the Wakandan queen carved into them.

"I love it," Yani squealed.

"I wanted to show it to you now so you wouldn't think I came to your wedding empty-handed. You will probably receive jewels and things for your home, but I wanted something special for your office."

Yani left her chair and hugged Ilana. Zola admired the chair and touched the buttery pale leather.

"It is so you, Yani," Zola said.

Yani gave them a tour of the finished office suite and they ventured out to say hello to others in the vicinity of N'Jadaka's floor. They quickly passed the closed doors of a political meeting for territorial leaders in rural areas, but her appearance created an excited stir outside the entrance so she spent a few minutes talking to personnel and representatives waiting to get inside. Time slipped past them and the heavy meeting door opened releasing the first wave of politicians inside. Yani inched her way through the throng of well-wishers with Ilana and Zola pushing back on others taking up her time even further.

"Princess Yani."

Yani stopped walking at the sound of her name called from a voice she recognized. She turned toward a corner where Remy walked with Elder Efetobo by his side. Yani held her arms out for Efetobo and the frail older woman gave her a warm hug.

"I am so pleased you have returned home," Efetobo said. "I will see you at the dinner tonight."

Efetobo left and Yani faced Remy.

"I am surprised you are even in the West Palace. You must be very busy preparing for your nuptials," Remy said.

Yani glanced over her shoulder. Zola and Ilana watched them with gloating eyes. She sucked her teeth and her Ladies stepped away from them and waited for her near a Dora.

Remy dressed handsomely, his work attire crisp and fashionable for his status. His tight eyes looked playful and there was a hint of longing in his voice. His tone reminded her of their times talking together late at night when he cared for her children. There was an intimacy there that she couldn't shake from him, no matter how much her feelings had changed. Lady Ime was lucky to have him. Outside of N'Jadaka and the missing T'Challa inside the royal family, Remy was the highest ranked male noble in the entire country outside of the Udaku line.

Ignoring the rush of people moving past them in the halls, Remy cornered Yani so that their conversation couldn't be heard.

"Taking care of Merchant Tribe business?" Yani asked.

"Yes. Elder Efetobo stays on top of our place here. She requires daily meetings and prompt reports from our representatives. Today she let me out early in preparation for your dinner banquet for the inner circle. I thank you profusely because I was behind on some things and now I can catch up. Unfortunately, that means I cannot attend the pre-wedding festivities tonight with your special guests."

Yani nodded and tried to ease herself away from him. She didn't trust Remy, not since he tried to fight N'Jadaka at Warrior Falls for the throne.

"Elder Efetobo is a very fair and precise person. You'll learn much from her…excuse me…"

"Yani…wait."

He reached out for her arm and stopped himself, remembering who she was to him. Holding his arms to his sides, Remy kept a pleasant look on his face.

"I wanted to tell you something important…away from your people, but this is probably the safest place with the king being absent."

"What is it Remy? I have to get prepared for tonight."

"I am engaged now—"

"I was told this today."

"Oh..."

"Congratulations."

"Thank you, but that's not what's important."

Yani toyed with her kimoyo beads to give him a hint.

"This betrothal march for Lady Ime and I has been arranged by our families."

"Remy, none of this matters to me."

"It matters to me because I want you to understand the pressure this will put on you. Lady Ime has it out for you. I don't condone how she feels even though I know there's bitterness in the ranks about you. You don't deserve the hatred. I know who you really are on the inside."

"No. I only let you see what I wanted."

"You lie."

His lips quirked to the side.

"Have a good evening," she said.

"There is a hard road laid out before you inside these palace walls."

Remy surveyed the high ceiling and cavernous lobby crammed with onlookers. She kept a dignified stance and made sure nothing could be interpreted as improper by anyone watching their interaction. He lowered his voice.

"Becoming queen will not protect you from even more jealousy. I want you to know that I will do what I can to lessen the burden on you from my intended. If I had my way, I would remain a bachelor until I could find someone to match your sweetness…but…you already know what life is like for traditional people in our caste system."

Yani took a step closer to him.

"You tried to kill my man. Why would I believe that you would try to protect me from scheming bitches?"

"Because I fell in love with you, Yani. Killing N'Jadaka was my birthright...in order to become king. You can stay angry with me for the rest of your life, but I would do it all over again if I had the chance to win the kingdom for myself and my bloodline. I would make you my wife…put my future children inside of you."

Yani gasped at the audacity. She was grateful Ilana and Zola were too far away to hear his treacherous words.

"You've known it all along…my feelings for you. For a moment in time I had you to myself. Our king treated you shabbily, or have you forgotten the nights you vented openly to me? What about the times I soothed your pitiful crying at night because he wouldn't choose you over another? I sat there in your home and told you how wonderful you were until you stopped weeping at your kitchen table. Married to someone else or not, you will always be special to me. I couldn't claim you for myself in defeat, but I never stopped loving you. King N'Jadaka doesn't deserve you at all. I hope he spends the rest of his life making up for all the hurt and pain he gave you."

She turned away and he blocked her path.

"I promise what I said, Yani. Ime's hate will never taint your name again."

Yani jammed her hand in her dress pocket and pulled out the gift box sheathed there.

"A gift from me," Yani said. "For you and Lady Ime. Tell her the new queen is pleased to hear the good news."

Remy smiled and took the box from her hand. Yani spun on her heels and marched away with her shoulders thrown back. Ilana and Zola snickered under their breath and matched her pace out of the West Palace halls.

N'Jadaka's flight path in the Royal Talon Fighter remained unseen and unchecked as it headed to Camp David. The Kingsguard were sent ahead with an automobile convoy as a decoy. It entered the secluded and heavily guarded presidential retreat before the Talon Fighter glided overhead. Using the spectral camouflage tech to keep the aircraft invisible, Ayo stayed with the king's transport while Okoye joined him walking inside the rustic meeting room where President Matthew Ellis nervously stood just inside the entryway.

"Welcome King N'Jadaka," Ellis said.

He held out his hand toward N'Jadaka and it was received with a firm shake. Ellis looked comfortable in a fawnskin brown sweater and gray dress slacks. His pewter tie was clipped with a small American flag. A serving attendant offered N'Jadaka a glass of aged bourbon. He accepted and drank with Ellis. They strolled through the lodge setting of the room and took a quick gander at the property from a large window.

"I am thankful that you didn't blow me off again. You're a hard man to see," Ellis said.

N'Jadaka took in the view of a lush lawn and a heavily wooded area in the distance.

"I'm busy and I don't want to waste time. What do you want?"

Ellis chuckled and his eyes darted beyond N'Jadaka's face. The king turned slightly to his right and another man walked into the room with them. N'Jadaka kept his expression even as the new guest approached them with confident strides.

"Tony Stark," N'Jadaka said.

Tony broke out into a dazzling smile, his tinted glasses framing an older face with tired eyes.

"King Erik N'Jadaka Udaku-Stevens," Tony said.

The bourbon gave N'Jadaka some humor and he offered a hand willingly to Tony. Their handshake told a million silent stories of their time together back in California.

"Look at you…just look at you. I always knew there was something special about you. All this time…dammit…all this time," Tony enthused.

Tony accepted a glass of liquor from the server. All three men stood and drank.

"Genetlemen, sit…please," Ellis said, waving a hand toward a forest green sectional couch.

N'Jadaka took the L part of the couch and faced both men with his back toward the entrance. He had a good view of the windows and his security team watched him from above and below.

"Well…let me be direct with you King N'Jadaka. I brought Tony here to clear the air about your past connection. The press and my cabinet are up my ass wanting to know if you two are in cahoots. Did you at any time sell out the American people over weapons and take-overs of other countries?" Ellis blurted.

Tony folded his arms.

"Matt, you have known me for years. My goal has been to protect this planet once I came out as Iron Man to the public. Working with the Avengers and helping our nation heal from the loss of life has been my only conduct to date. I have a family now…I'm not about to create a legacy for my daughter that would shame her, or my wife," Tony said with earnest passion. "I have dedicated my life to ensuring peace. My industrialist past is just that…the past. Erik…King N'Jadaka, was my former intern and he worked in development for Stark Enterprises. He left me after two years to attend M.I.T. I tried to recruit him back several times over the years. Hell, I even tried to convince him to quit the Navy. I didn't know about his royal connections at all. To me, he was only a brilliant mind that I sought to cultivate for capitalist gain in new tech. The last time I saw him in person, he rescied me from a dessert kidnapping in Gulmira."

Tony glanced at N'Jadaka.

"You wear royalty well, Erik," Tony said.

N'Jadaka glared at Ellis.

"Why does the C.I.A. feel the need to out me to the public now? Is it to antagonize me or put a another target on my back?" N'Jadaka asked.

"They want a muzzle on you. As much praise that has been heaped on Wakanda through the Avengers and Princess Yani's book tour, we still don't trust you as a nation. You won't share vibranium. You take cheap shots at nations that should be your allies, and you are so goddamn secretive. Look at it from our side. We can know what a Russian spy ate for breakfast through his taking a dump thousands of miles away, and yet I can't even see what an ordinary street in Wakanda looks like. The optics are bad for you. America has been the most powerful nation since World War 2 and now we face a crisis of mistrust that is worse than the red scare of the McCarthy era. We don't have the complete confidence of the American people to call ourselves a world leader anymore. I don't like that."

"It's not my problem," N'Jadaka said.

"It's a global problem, Erik," Tony added. "Other nations are scared of you. Fear leads to complicated relations. That often turns into war."

N'Jadaka shrugged and folded his hands together watching both men squirm with discomfort. He chose his words carefully.

"The way I see it, mainly Western nations are scared. Why? Because they can't throw their weight around anymore. Wakanda is the alternative to Western Imperialism."

"Others can accuse Wakanda of ushering in a new African imperialism," Ellis barked out.

"Where?" N'Jadaka said.

The challenge went unanswered. N'Jadaka chugged down the bourbon and slammed the glass down on the end table next to the sectional.

"Have I started any wars? No. I only help those that are already war-torn…but not from my hand. The difference is, I don't entrench my politics or the need to siphon out valuable resources at the expense of the people I say I'm helping. I bring the progress America always claims it does and the world can witness it. Wakanda has begun helping people right where they are without becoming leeches or indoctrinating them to our way of life as neocolonialists. We've single-handedly staunched the flow of refugees in areas that have suffered for generations because of American interference. How long does Africa have to wait to become the giant I know she can be without being slandered from you Ellis? The U.S. thrives on chaos around the world. That's how you make your money…capitalizing on human suffering to line your pockets. Wakanda doesn't need trade, war, or influence with anyone. We are sovereign, free, and powerful without your entanglement. You despise us for that"

"You are young and naïve, N'Jadaka. How long have you been a ruler? Less than two years? You will need friends outside of your selfish bubble."

"But look at all I've accomplished in that time without friends."

N'Jadaka tilted his head. His kimoyo beads lit up a bright yellow. Okoye's avatar floated above his wrist. Posted outside the front entrance, her expression was cool and collected.

"There is another guest arriving," Okoye said.

Ellis's Secret Service agent stepped into the room seconds later and approached the president with C.I.A. Agent Everett Ross.

"Agent Ross, take a seat," Ellis said, waving toward a side chair.

Ross plopped down and his lips became a thin line of tension. N'Jadaka fixed his gaze on him.

"Had to use Ellis to get to me, huh?" N'Jadaka said.

"I was under the impression that I had a special relationship with the monarchy. Being snubbed all the time begins to feel like that connection has changed your highness."

N'Jadaka stood up and towered over Ross.

"Relationships change to fit my needs. What can you provide me that I can't get on my own?"

Ross glanced at Ellis and Tony, but both men kept their eyes locked on N'Jadaka.

"You came to my family with tall tales about me. Painted me as a villain to my own blood. But now that they embrace me, you want to pretend I would favor you with my presence? Fuck you and fuck this country."

Ross jumped to his feet and faced N'Jadaka with balled fists.

"T'Challa wanted us to work together as allied nations," Ross pleaded.

"T'Challa is no longer the king and no longer in the world," N'Jadaka said with heavy breath.

Ellis stood and placed himself next to Ross.

"We want to develop close ties with Wakanda. Your American heritage…your military service …we should work together. There are problems and global enemies we can challenge together," Ellis said.

"We can take care of enemies on our own."

"Erik…you need allies," Tony said.

N'Jadaka held out his arms.

"What is the point of all this? What am I supposed to gain from coming here besides the usual bullshit talk?"

"I want an open channel of communication. I would like for us to foster trust amongst our nations," Ellis said.

"You can do that by minding your business and staying out of mine."

"You come off hostile, King N'Jadaka," Ross said. "The public attitude and posturing make us uncomfortable, and that leads to more problems for my boss and the president. Your lovely fiancé has started the ball rolling in a direction that is beneficial to you. We all watched her GMA appearance. She is one sharp woman. Please meet us halfway by talking with us. Your power and influence all across Africa can benefit other nations…outside the continent."

Ross stared at him with softened eyes. Tony moved closer to them.

"Erik, back when you worked for me, you were a straight arrow that played fair. You always listened to people and gave them chances to prove their worth. If all the government wants is to meet occasionally to calm down the pitchforks, then do it. Yeah it's bullshit and a game to some, but if it keeps these jokers off your ass, it's a pittance to pay in the long run," Tony urged.

"We can set up an American friendship tour after your wedding. The First Lady is dying to meet Princess Yani. Give me a chance to show you that the Ellis administration wants to support you and get to know your people." Ellis said.

N'Jadaka turned away from all three men and looked out of the window. The odor of food drifted into the room. All he wanted to do was leave. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply and concentrated on Yani's face. She would've encouraged him to turn it down a notch and play these fools. He squared his shoulders and turned back around.

"I smell food, so I assume we'll break bread?" N'Jadaka said.

Ellis smiled and his face relaxed.

"Good food, imported wine, and honest conversation," Ellis said.

"Sounds good to me," Tony said slapping his hands together.

Ross nodded eagerly. N'Jadaka broke away from them and walked toward the scent off savory meat and vegetables.

A quaint dining room with bright lighting displayed a table setting for four. N'Jadaka took his seat next to Tony and they fed themselves smoked turkey breast with gravy, roasted veggies, and cornbread stuffing. It was a simple meal that stuck to the ribs, and the other men made small talk that seemed geared to relax the king. Tony kept Ellis and Ross in good cheer, beguiling them with stories about a young Erik Stevens.

N'Jadaka laughed a few times and allowed the dinner to pacify the president. He thought of Yani again and how impressed they were about her. She had had been right about him meeting Ellis. The president was desperate to get on his good side. Sipping on white wine, N'Jadaka asked about Niganda and Mohannda leadership bad-mouthing him. Ellis chuckled and drank heavily, his blood-shot eyes giving N'Jadaka more insight into the man's lack of interest in powerless African presidents.

"They lobby weekly to bring up your transgressions. They want East Africa to be the nexus of African influence, but you stand in their way. I predict that once they see we have settled our differences, there will be fewer calls to oust you."

"Hmm, priming you to back a coup d'etat with a people who fought aliens," N'Jadaka grumbled.

"They are small potatoes…a mere blip on the world's radar…"

Ellis dismissed them without mentioning Niganda and Mohannda's mineral worth to the west. N'Jadaka listened to the framing of Wakanda as the go-to nation from there on. Keeping his demeanor open and friendly went far. He fought the urge to stab Ross. The agent studied N'Jadaka's every utterance like he was searching for a way to win him over. Imagining Yani's hand rubbing his scalp kept him in check. The time would come when he would punish the agent for double crossing the Udaku family's trust.

"You spoke of fostering trust earlier," N'Jadaka said. He lit up a cigar at the table and blew a cloud of acrid smoke toward the president. "I have some court cases my American lawyers are fighting on behalf of several tribal nations and some Black areas where we have given financial support for protected groups. One has reached the Supreme Court. If I can't help my own lineage at home because racists don't like them receiving support to thrive, how will that make me feel friendly during this proposed Friendship Tour?"

"The Supreme Court case I can't touch, but I can make some calls and address the states that are suing you," Ellis said.

"Publicly?"

"I can put out a statement right before the Supreme Court hearing and I will comment on it at my next press conference."

Dessert was brought out by a pastry chef, a plain cheesecake with a chocolate whipped cream topping. Tony shared pictures of Pepper and his only child on a smarphone. By the time coffee was served to them to end the meal, N'Jadaka knew he had won the president over. He agreed to a friendship tour and a small delegate tour for Ellis's and his V.P. back in Wakanda. It would coincide with the opening of a new international Embassy in Birnin Zana. He wiped his lips and brushed cheesecake crumbs from his fingers.

"I thank you for the meal President Ellis," N'Jadaka said.

"Next time you come to the states, you must stay with me and Pepper. Bring your entire family. From the sound of it, your kids sound like mini-geniuses. I'd like for you to see Morgan in person. Pepper says she looks like me," Tony said.

"A female Tony Stark?"

"Well, you have two female Erik Stevens clones by the way you brag on your girls."

"I will tell Yani about your open invitation."

Okoye entered the dining area and shadowed N'Jadaka as he stood from his seat. He shook Tony's hand, ignored Ross and bid the American president a pleasant farewell. He climbed into the car convoy with his guards and rode out of Camp David feeling pleased with the outcome of his visit. On the flight home, he slept and dreamed of his honeymoon.

"Kumkani, we have arrived at the cove. Your houseboat is ready for inspection," Ayo said.

N'Jadaka shook off a deep sleep and shuffled over to the Talon Fighter's restroom and cleaned himself up. He changed into fresh clothing and boarded the royal houseboat by noon. All of Yani's favorite foods and liquor were stocked and the dazzling water had him hyped to start his marriage vacation. He planned on sailing up and down the secluded parts of Wakanda that led to the Jabari mountain waterways. There were parts of the nation he still hadn't explored and he wanted to see it with his wife.

"Outstanding," he told Ayo. She looked pleased

"Ayo, I'd like to have Aneka join the security team for my honeymoon. Would you ask her to consider the scheduled time?"

Ayo grinned.

"Yes, I will ask her."

"Thank you. I know you handle to the schedule rotations for Okoye now. Yani has taken a liking to her for our outside travel."

N'Jadaka looked around the large boat that was practically the size of a luxury yacht and gave non-verbal approval to the pristine shine. The flight to the palace gave him an enjoyable trip across the beautiful physical geography and he grew excited even more taking in the vision of the double place gleaming in the sun.

The Talon Fighter floated down with ease onto the Talon port. He walked off the aircraft and caught a glimpse of his family waiting for him in front of the palace double doors. Umama stood next to Yani and their three children. They were all dressed up in pastel colors that fit the mood of the weather. It had rained in Birnin Zana, the Talon Port was still wet with raindrops, and the children wore scarves over their heads to protect them from any sudden showers.

"Umama," he said.

He hugged his grandmother and she held her face against his cheek for a long time.

"I am grateful to have you back with us. Did your meeting go well?" Umama asked.

"Not bad actually. I listened to Yani."

Yani blessed him with a smile and he pulled her in tight, rocking her in his arms. Umama tapped N'Jadaka's shoulder and he pulled away from Yani. The reminder to have some decorum outside the palace stayed ingrained with his grandmother. He reached down and lifted Joba.

"Grandma Theresa told me you've been showing her all around the palace. Are you happy having her and Grampy Mark here?"

"Yes. I'm going to help them pick out a house by the river too," Joba said.

Twyla and Yani's Ladies-in-Waiting stepped out from the palace. Yani kissed his cheek.

"I'll catch up with you in a little bit. We're heading off to check on the final pieces for the gift bags. Can we meet in the Sun Room for lunch?" Yani said.

"Cool. Hurry back," he said.

He snuck another touchy-feely hug with Yani. Twyla tapped him on the forehead playfully and Ilana nodded to him with Zola doing the same. They walked toward the long stairs that led to a carport where they would be chauffeured into the middle of the city.

Riki tugged on N'Jadaka's shirt.

"Hey lil man."

He rubbed Riki's puffy hair.

"Mama won't let us go to the S'Yan Country Fair tomorrow," Riki grumbled.

"That's because we have the wedding rehearsal. Stop acting like a baby over it," Sydette snapped.

"I'm not acting like a baby. Why can't we do both things in one day?"

Sydette held up her left hand and counted off a list of activities.

"There's the Betrothal March closure breakfast, the wedding rehearsal, the final fitting of our clothes, our hair appointments with the stylists, and the Court of Nobles banquet. There's no time to go to a fair. Baba, he only wants to go because Pemmy Yengeni is performing there," Sydette said.

Riki ducked his shocked eyes from his sister in embarrassment. N'Jadaka smiled. His son had a crush on the popular young singer who recently returned to making new music after the Infinity War. Her hit single celebrating the resilience of the Wakandan soldiers who protected the people was a favorite of his son. Riki played it over and over in his room and danced to it with his school friends. Pemmy's holo vid images decorated Riki's bedroom walls. N'Jadaka suspected his son loved how the free-spirited woman looked just as much as he loved her music. Anywhere she made a public appearance, the prince recorded the performance and played the images on loop.

N'Jadaka put Joba back on her feet and he held Riki's hand. They all walked toward the palace doors.

"Sydette is right, Riki. We have a lot to do together as a family. There will be other chances to see Pemmy," he said.

Riki's shoulders drooped and he lowered his head. The gait in his walk slowed up their pace through the first floor.

"You and Mama have said that all year and I haven't seen her once. I need a break. This wedding is stressing me out," Riki lamented.

"Stressing you out how?" Umama asked, stopping everyone from moving.

Riki looked up at Umama.

"Everything is about Mama and Baba getting married. They're already married to me. I don't know why we have to do all this other extra stuff. Everything is under strict schedules and we can't just…hang out and do what we want."

Umama held Riki's chin and peered down into his eyes. Her voice was kind, but firm.

"Being the prince of the Udaku clan is a very important responsibility, do you not understand this?" she asked.

"I understand that Umama, but I'm still a little kid. Can I have fun too?"

"You always have fun. You're a privileged little one, and part of that privilege entails following important traditions when it comes to marriage and uniting bloodlines. As you grow older, your responsibilities to the royal family will grow, and that means you cannot always do things on a whim when you feel like it. Complaining to your father was very disrespectful. He and your mother love each other very much and want the nation to share in that love with our celebration activities. Your parents cater to you and your sisters every single day, and you cannot give them a few days for themselves? Have we raised a selfish prince in the palace?"

Umama's tone shamed Riki. The boy lowered his head and his lip quivered.

"I'm sorry, Baba. I didn't mean to disrespect you or Mama," Riki said.

Umama folded her hands across her midsection. The rings all over her fingers sparkled, matching the glimmering jewels made to look like elaborate spirals adorning her fresh fade haircut. Her sharp cheekbones were bronzed to match the color of her dress.

"I think you and your sisters should take a walk in the Grand Family Room and contemplate the importance of your parent's special day," Umama said.

Sydette's lips twisted up.

"But Umama? Why do we have to be punished too? He's the one complaining, not us. "

"Punishment? You consider looking upon the paintings of your antecedents punishment?"

"What are we contemplating then?" Sydette asked.

Umama snapped her fingers at Quamba, the children's Dora.

"Go to the Grand Family Room. Look upon the faces hanging all over the walls, and come back to my suite in one hour. You will all tell me what you have learned," Umama commanded.

Sydette shook her arms in disappointment.

"All your fault," she snapped at her brother.

Joba followed along without speaking on the matter. She held Riki's hand and pulled him to follow Quamba and Sydette to the fifth floor of the East Palace.

"Are they not having a good time at all with the excitement? All their cousins are here." N'Jadaka said.

"I think they are. But it has cut off their outside activities a lot, especially all the traveling with Yani. Riki missed his friends gathering at the ukudlala ngomlenze semi-finals. A few of his classmates are going to the fair to see the talented Pemmy and that loud, raucous band of hers. She performs during the same time as the wedding rehearsal."

N'Jadaka contemplated his son's predicament.

"You think maybe we can bend the rules and let him go see his favorite singer? Yani and I won't be offended if he skips part of the day tomorrow."

"I would be offended, and so would your ancestors watching us all right now. Besides…" Umama glanced over her shoulder to make sure the children were gone. She leaned in toward N'Jadaka with a twinkle in her eye. "I invited Pemmy Yengeni and her entire band to perform after the dinner banquet for the nobles. I remember what it was like to miss out on things as a young child, too. I want him to know that family duty comes first, no matter what is happening outside these palace walls. This is your time with Yani and he must be there for his parents."

Umama slipped her arm around N'Jadaka's and they walked further in, stopping to gaze at the atrium waterfall. He felt at peace being where he belonged. Okoye eased next them.

"Kumkani, your belongings from the Royal Talon Fighter have been sent up to your home. Will you be heading up soon, or would you like to do something else? Ayo has your ground transport ready for any personal errands."

N'Jadaka checked his kimoyo beads. Mpilo's signature kept flashing a pale orange color. He read two messages.

"I'm going to head to my office for right now. Umama, I'll take my leave."

Umama stroked his cheek.

"Grandson, you are to relax and focus on your family for the next thirty five days. No work for you right now. Go rest in your home. Ramonda and the Council of Elders will take care of public duties," Umama said.

"It's not work, Umama. I want to check on something real quick, and then I'll get ready for lunch with Yani."

He kissed her forehead and hurried away to an elevator. Making his way into the West Palace he ignored attempts by palace well-wishers to stop him from getting to his office quickly. The office staff greeted him kindly as he whirled in, his fancy casual clothing brought out grins. They were unaccustomed to seeing him without his flashy royal attire. Mpilo rushed over to him. Tlotliso joined them.

"I am so sorry, kumkani. But they insisted on seeing you today," Mpilo said.

"No worries, finish up your work."

He walked with Tlotliso toward the rooms in the back.

"Fix us some tea. No snacks. I'll make this quick. Stay in the room with us when you bring the tray."

"Yes, kumkani."

N'Jadaka and Tlotliso separated in opposite directions once they reached a wide hallway. He opened the heavy door to his office.

"Inkokeli Ramatla," N'Jadaka said.

Remy turned his head at the sound of N'Jadaka entering. He sat in a chair facing the king's desk. He rose, crossed his right hand over his heart and lowered his head.

"Kumkani…apologies for this unscheduled meeting before your nuptials," Remy said.

"What brings you here?"

N'Jadaka took his own seat and gave Remy a questioning stare.

Remy pulled a powder blue box from his work pouch and slid it across the table.

"A gift?" N'Jadaka said.

"Not from me. Princess Yani gave this for my fiancé and I."

"You are returning it. Why?"

Remy tugged on his collar and repositioned himself in the chair.

"Speak man. I have things to do," N'Jadaka urged.

"Open it," Remy said.

N'Jadaka slid the silver clasp open and pulled open the box. Tlotliso stepped into the office carrying a tray with Jabari Mountain coffee, sugar lumps, and two small coffee cups. She placed the tray down and poured both men a coffee, plopping a sugar lump the size of dimes in each cup. N'Jadaka waved his hand to the side and she moved behind Remy to wait on them.

"Betrothal earrings," N'Jadaka said.

"I am engaged to Lady Ime of the Mining Tribe."

"Congrats. Do you not like what Princess Yani chose for you two as a gift?"

Tlotliso leaned forward and N'Jadaka tilted the box for her to inspect the earrings. Her eyes grew big and she glanced at the king with concern on her face. Remy grinned.

"I see you do not understand the significance of the design. Perhaps Princess Yani made a harmless mistake in choosing this for us. A simple misunderstanding," Remy said.

"What am I not understanding? I'm sure she took a lot of care in choosing something meaningful for you and Lady Ime as a token of our respect."

"Kumkani…"

Tlotliso's voice sounded strained. N'Jadaka stood up abruptly.

"I must go join Princess Yani for our afternoon meal. Should I take these back to her? The jeweler who made these is one of her favorites. They created the wedding bands we'll exchange in two days. She'll be very disappointed to know you didn't appreciate her gift. She is quite fond of Lady Ime. We look forward to seeing you all for the Court of Nobles banquet in our honor tomorrow night."

Remy's full lips smashed together as if he wanted to say more. He reached for the gift box and took it from N'Jadaka's hand.

"In that case, Lady Ime and I shall wear these to the banquet to show Princess Yani our gratitude,"

Remy stood and held his hands up in the sign of respect for the king.

"I shall take my leave, King N'Jadaka. Enjoy your afternoon meal with Princess Yani. Give her our regards."

Remy exited on swift legs.

"What the fuck was that about?"

Tlotliso moved closer to the desk.

"Those earrings had a design on them that was targeted to humiliate them, King N'Jadaka."

"Humiliate them how? Them shits are expensive and we don't give out gives like that to just anybody."

"The vines covering the hoops is a sign of displeasure toward the wearer. Princess Yani is telling them that they are beneath her."

N'Jadaka laughed out loud and clutched his stomach.

"No wonder that nigga was trippin'. Because I didn't know what it was he had to accept it as an unintentional mix up on Yani's end."

"The nobles are very particular about gifts they receive. They will wear them, but it will not be a good look once the other nobles see it."

"Well…they pissed Yani off some kinda way. Normally she avoids mess, but if she's firing shots, they had it coming. You look hella uncomfortable. Should I have kept them?"

"Inkokeli Ramatla was in an awkward position. He will accept that you are both unfamiliar with the meaning of the vine. I am not sure if Lady Ime will be kind enough to leave it be. The Gcaleka clan offend easily, and Lady Ime is a distant relative of Elder Zinzi of the Zawavari clan."

"So you're telling me shit is about to pop off at the Court of Nobles banquet?"

"Not necessarily. I think Inkokeli Ramatla will smooth things over. No one wants to offend Princess Yani if she truly meant no harm in the gift."

"But if she did mean it?"

"A lot of people will become uncomfortable…maybe even afraid of Princess Yani. She would be putting the entire court on notice."

N'Jadaka picked up a cup of coffee and handed it to Tlotliso. She accepted it graciously and he lifted the other cup to his lips. They drank together silently for a moment. Tlotliso gathered they empty cups and tray afterward leaving him alone. He tapped his kimoyo to track the movement of Yani and her entourage. They were still moving through the city.

"What are you up to Yani?" he asked to himself.

Glancing around his office one last time, he left the room and headed for his grandmother's suite. He needed a quick lesson on vines and the honest opinion from a relative who endured jealousy from a bombastic court of envious upper class Wakandans. There was no better teacher than Umama.

Riding an elevator in the East Palace, he wondered why Yani would give Remy and Ime a gift so close to their wedding day.

Chapter 3 HERE.

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