#King Ghezo

[melaninpov]

John Boyega in Mens Health

[megamindsecretlair]

The King and I, Part 1

Pairing: King Ghezo x Virgin!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. This is more background than anything, so mentions of violence, violence against women, brief mentions of rape, torture, murder, slave trade, and suicidal ideation. Hopefully this will be 3 parts, will lead to smut! Ya heathens, I know what you here for LOL. And you all deserve forehead kisses.

Summary: Raised to be perfect, your father has had it with your disobedience. He marches you to the palace and throws you at the King's feet. You'd rather die than be another person's property. But the King surprises you in many ways.

Word Count: 3,533k

A/N: Couldn't get this idea out of my brain and it definitely doesn't follow the canon in the movie. AH well, LOL. I love it and that's all that matters. Hopefully, my brain continues to cooperate. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion

Before you had a chance to be a little girl, you were coveted for your looks. How pretty you were. How nice your hair was. Paraded out in front of many odd, adult people who looked at you with strange things in their eyes. Things you were too young to understand.

As you got older, it only got worse. You were expected to sit there like a doll and let people talk over you or around you, as if you were no more than grass beneath their feet. Wind in their hair. Something always there and easily ignored.

So you made the decision to be seen. You gave opinions when they weren’t wanted. You stayed in other people’s business. You resisted and rebelled. It was nice while it lasted.

Your father made sure to curb you of such habits. But somehow, the punishments never took like they were supposed to. You continued to speak. To use the gifts the gods gave you. If they did not want you to speak, they should have taken your tongue.

At his end, your father gave up his pursuit of a wealthy match for you. “If you will not listen to me, I will give you to someone you have no choice but to obey!” Spittle flew from your father’s mouth.

As you were marched to the palace, that was the one thing you focused on. Your father was a proud man. Perhaps you had gone a step too far if he was letting spit fly from his mouth with abandon. This was the least of your concern, true, but being cast off on the newly appointed King Ghezo was too big to face head on.

People in the village watched as you were marched there, your father’s grip on your arm near bruising. His thick fingers were wrapped around your upper arm. He set a brutal pace and walked forward whether you were able to keep up or not. You stared at the people. You made them look at you.

You didn’t expect them to do anything to help you. No one ever lifted a finger to help little girls. You were many years an adult by now, but to everyone, you were still so young. Young in the ways of the world. But growing up, weren’t you taught the ways of the world? 

The powerful were in charge with no one to challenge them otherwise. While everyone else was sheep, forced to do their bidding. 

Your feet tripped over rocks in the dirt road. Your father continued marching. The palace gates were not far now. Dread started to inch its way to your heart. You had never seen the King, but you heard how your parents whispered about him. How he was both similar and different from his father and brother.

His father had been a cruel man, living in ways that your people hadn’t lived before. Surely, his son would be no different. When you learned that you were going to be given to the new king, you pictured how ugly he must be. How cruel. 

Your father was handing you over like a piece of meat. Handing his daughter over as if he had no hand in birthing you, raising you, guiding, and protecting you. Now you were nothing to him. You looked at him as he jostled you down the street. His eyes were set forward, a frown on his face.

Did he not feel anything at all? All these years you had been in his care and there wasn’t an ounce of feeling in him.

“Did you ever love me?” You asked. You were out of breath and it was said softly. Perhaps he didn’t hear you. You hoped. You didn’t really want to hear his answer. Hear that despite everything else, he did not share that love for you as you did for him all these years.

“You are an insolent child. I will make more of you. I will instill in them obedience where you had none,” he spat. 

You refused to cry. You had an idea that he didn’t truly love you. Sometimes he’d look at you with such…hate. As if you were a stubborn stain he could not remove. You thought it was because of your looks. Because it was all anyone could talk about. But even when it was just you and your mother, he would still look at you as if he could cast you out with a single look.

At the palace gates, the guards halted your father. The red doors were large, stretching high above you. Anyone who went in, never came back out. You heard whispered words about why the King would need so many women. There was talk of him eating flesh. If he sold it, was there a big stretch to eating it? 

You’d die before you got eaten. As your father argued with the guards, telling how he had a disobedient child that the King could do whatever he wanted with, you made the second biggest decision of your life. You will die before harm befell you. In whatever form that was. 

If the King forced himself on you, you’d kill him and take yourself with him. If he tried to put you in a stew, you’d make him watch as you bled all over his fancy robes. The guards finally opened the gates enough for you to peek through.

Women were engaged in combat. Your mouth dropped open at how fierce they looked. You were not allowed to look upon the Agojie when they returned from their battles beyond the walls of the kingdom. But now you dared not to look away. 

Your father pushed you forward. One of the guards caught you and you turned your head to your father. This was the most satisfied you had ever seen him. He hoped that the King did something awful to you. He was counting on it.

You straightened up behind the walls of the palace. You looked your father in the eyes and you smiled. You spat on the ground at his feet, that smile still on your face. His smile faltered, rage contorting his features. You turned your back on him and walked into the lion’s lair.

The guards handed you off one by one until a young guard escorted you to the front of the palace. In the training yard, men and women walked around with heads held high. It had never been your intention to become Agojie, but perhaps the mad King will let you once he found out how unsuitable for a wife you were. 

The thought of killing anyone made you ill, but it would be better than to be bound to someone who could have you killed with one word. 

The guard took you to the door that led to the inner palace. An Agojie met you there, a tall woman with beautiful features and sharp nails. She looked you up and down and conversed with the guard. You didn’t pay attention. You were marching to your death, what did the particulars matter? 

The woman took possession of you, leading you into the inner palace where it was women only. Everywhere you looked, there were Dahomey women walking freely. They laughed! They trained, they ran, and hugged each other without abandon. There were a few women from other tribes there, but…this sight robbed you of clear thought.

“You will catch flies if you leave your mouth open like that,” the Agojie said. 

The Agojie stalked forward, a hand on the hilt of her weapon. You briefly wondered how you could steal one unnoticed. You searched around you. There were weapons everywhere but there were so many Agojie, you doubted you’d be able to capture one. 

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“Nanisca,” the warrior said. “You’d do well to listen to whatever the King wants.” 

You didn’t need to be reminded of the King’s cruelty. It was all your father taunted you with for days as he made his decision to hand you over. You followed Nanisca to the palace proper. There, a man dressed in bright purple robes greeted you. He was bald with lots of jewelry hanging from his nose, ears, and around his neck. He looked you up and down and then rolled his eyes towards Nanisca.

“I suppose we will have this to look forward to from now on,” he said.

“As long as our King breathes air,” Nanisca said. She left you there with the man. 

“Come,” he said. You followed him, though dread made your steps wooden and your limbs frozen. You were too deep to escape now. But escape to where? Outside the kingdom, you ran the risk of slavers. Rapists. Murderous thugs who would know where you came from and kill you just for being born in the wrong tribe.

The palace was nice, almost peaceful. There was the clank of weapons outside. Grunts and sounds from the Agojie as they practiced. The palace was big but also felt empty. As if there weren’t a lot of people there.

The King must be fat then. Perhaps he ate all the servants and would-be brides. The bald man led you through to a chamber with many chairs. On a raised dais, there was a large throne and a smaller one beside. 

“Wait here,” the man said. He twirled and disappeared down the hall. You took a step forward, looking at the displayed riches and art work. If a king was cruel, did he know anything about art? Or beauty? 

“Is this necessary?” You heard mumbling and turned towards the door, ready to face the King head on. To see what kind of monster your parents have subjected you to. 

A young man walked in, with thick curled hair and light facial hair. He wore robes of gold, his robe split open revealing a well defined chest. He stood in the doorway and gazed at you as you did him.

He certainly didn’t look monstrous. You knew that evil things often came in the prettiest packages, but he was beautiful. Strong. Solid. 

He was still your new jailor, you mustn’t forget. So you stood there and looked him in the eye. You were not a victim and you will not be treated as such. 

“What is your name?” He asked. He pressed into the room further, looking you up and down with desire in his eyes. Your parents taught you well. How to spot it in others. 

You told him your name and he repeated it. As if to savor it around his tongue. He walked closer until he was within reach. Up close, he was even more handsome. You had to fight yourself from getting distracted by his looks. He was still cruel. You remembered all the horrible stories about his brother. He couldn’t be any different.

“So your father has given you away to me.” 

It wasn’t a question, but you answered anyway. “He has, my King,” you said.

“Do you wish to be given away?” He asked.

You gasped and looked at him. You looked to the bald man for help but he was turned away from the two of you. You looked back towards King Ghezo. It was the first time anyone had asked what you wished. For it to come from a king who should not care what you wanted…you weren’t sure what to do with the information.

“N-No,” you said.

King Ghezo nodded. “I wish I could make it easier for you. But you are too beautiful to be Agojie and if I turn you from this palace, you will have nowhere to go.” He reached for your hand and you snatched it from him. He smiled patiently as he held out his hand to you.

He was only pretending to be nice. A stupid, hopeful part of you had thought he wasn’t like the stories. He was worse. Still, he was correct. If he turned you away, you had nowhere to go. Once you had been here, everyone would assume the King used you and not deemed you worthy. Cast you out like a whore. You would be forced to sell your body. 

You took his hand. He gripped it lightly and smiled. He kissed the back of your hand. “Welcome, my Queen,” he said.

The next few days were a blur. King Ghezo’s first wife saw to your preparation for the wedding. The eunuch from earlier saw to your lessons, what was expected of you. No different than what your father had wanted from you. To be on your best behavior and only speak when spoken to. 

You hadn’t seen the King since then, but you caught glimpses every now and then. You were given your own quarters and servant, someone to tend to your needs. It was odd to have someone help bathe you, but the King preferred cleanliness to all else. He was vain on top of a liar.

The feast arrived in no time and you were painted up like a doll. At the wedding, you stood there as expected. If you had smiled any harder, it would have split your face in two. You had stood there like a goat on the pasture, ready to be bought and chopped up. King Ghezo studied you, encircled you, and found you acceptable. You had been tense, near trembling. You hated every second of it.

But now you are married. You sat beside King Ghezo at the high table, while he joked and laughed with his advisors. His other wife sat on your side, quiet and dull. You pitied her. The fight had left her long ago. You were still young. There was still time for you. While everyone smiled and laughed and enjoyed the feast, you hid a knife up your sleeve. It wasn’t that sharp, but it’d do the trick when the King tried to climb in your bed tonight.

You smiled in his face and feigned an innocent routine. You waited for the casual cruelty. When he would hiss for you to shut up, eat more, eat less, sit up straight. It never came. He only gave you brief glances, each always polite. A smile on those plump lips. You couldn’t shake your resolve though. Tonight, you’d be free. Whether free in death or free in life was entirely up to him. 

That night, you lay in your bed. There was a door there that led to a small balcony overlooking the rest of the kingdom. It was mostly the trees in the forest, but they were tall and mighty and more than the view you got back home. You did not spare your father a thought, but you thought of your mother. It had not been her choice to marry such a cruel man. 

It had not been your choice to marry a cruel man either. However, you felt as if you had a child, you would have moved the heavens and the earth to protect it. To not let what happened to you, happen to your own daughter. You supposed that dream was gone now. You’d either die tonight and never have a kid, or face the wrath of the kingdom and bear one without your permission. Somehow death seemed kinder. 

You did not want to die. But how could you live within these walls? With that monster? Admittedly, you did not hear any screams late in the night. His first wife seemed unbothered. Untouched. She had borne him his first son, so perhaps he left her alone. And perhaps goats flew over the moon. 

Men were only interested in one thing from a woman. And it was not her brain. 

A soft knock tore you from your musings. You tensed up, sliding your hand beneath your pillow to wrap around the handle of the knife. Maybe if you pretended to be sleep, he’d come back another night.

The door pushed open, soft feet padded inside, and the door closed again. You lay on your side, turned towards the open balcony. If you screamed, would no one come to your aid? 

“Are you awake?” King Ghezo’s soft voice reached you. You didn’t answer. Your breaths were stalled in your chest. Your hand cramped from holding the knife too hard. 

The King poked at your shoulder before making you roll over. “I know you are not…”

You sat up and had the knife at his throat in one fell swoop. The King’s eyes widened, but he looked at you, not the knife.

“Will you kill me, my Queen?” He asked. 

You pressed the knife into his skin, hard enough to know you meant business but careful not to break the skin. You were already committing treason, but somehow, it was important not to mar the king. 

He stared at you. Those deep brown eyes set in such a handsome face. You looked for the cruel man you heard about. Where was he? You could harm a cruel man. They deserved it tenfold. Why wasn’t he making this easy on you?

“I don’t want to,” you finally admitted. “I have to.”

“Why?” 

What did he mean, why? “Aren’t you angry?” 

“Angry at a scared woman who has no one on her side? No,” he said. He was so calm, so patient. This was at odds with everything you built up about him in your head.

“Don’t pity me,” you said. You pushed the knife in deeper. 

He leaned away and held his hands up. “I do not pity you. I will not pretend to know your life. But I can promise that you’re safe here,” he said.

You scoffed. “I’m not safe anywhere,” you said. You pressed your lips together. That hadn’t been what you meant to say. You meant to throw it back on him, that he could not promise safety when he dealt in the slave trade. When he looked at his people and only saw money from white devils. 

His eyes softened and he slowly smiled. “No man intact can enter this palace. Beyond that, we are protected by the fiercest warriors in the world. Beyond them, there is a first legion still to defend this palace from enemies. Here in the heart of it, you are the safest you’ve ever been.” 

“But who will keep me safe from you?” 

King Ghezo leaned forward, making you choose between cutting him or retreating. You eased up on the pressure. “You can do a finer job protecting yourself than most women can,” he said.

You stared at him. Your arm began to shake from holding the knife for so long. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t kill him. You were weak and would never be accepted as an Agojie. You would never fare well beyond these walls. 

You dropped the knife on the bed and held out your wrists. “I’m ready for my punishment, my King,” you said.

King Ghezo let out a long breath. You noticed now that he wore a deep, royal purple that highlighted his rich, dark skin. He wore minimal jewelry. He was just that magnificent on his own. Especially when the candle light flickered across his features.

“Punishment?” 

“I’ve threatened the King. I am ready for whatever punishment you hand out,” you said.

The King ignored the knife on the bed between you. It was within his right to take it and kill you. Or take it as evidence of your deceit. He could brand it for all to see as he threw you out of the palace. 

He did none of those things. He reached out his hand slowly and enclosed yours in his. You stared at your hands in comparison to his. He watched you as he brought your hands to his lips and placed a small kiss there.

“Plot how next you’ll kill me. If I have not convinced you of my intentions, of my character by then, you may carry through,” he said.

“What? No, no!” You said. You pulled your hands back but he held on. He pulled you closer until your hands were pressed against his warm, smooth chest. 

“Keep the knife, my Queen. This will be interesting between us,” he said.

This was surely a trap. A way for him to play and toy with you while he tightened the noose about your neck. Or gathered wood to burn you alive. Or for the Agojie to sharpen their swords to take your head with it.

“My King…”

“One day, I wish for you to call me your love,” he said. “But I will earn it or die trying.” A cocky grin spread across his face. It transformed him from a king to a man. A man who you were married to, sitting on your bed, with intentions involving you. 

He placed one more kiss on your hands and then retreated from the room. He never gave you his back, but he did smile and bow. Then he was gone from your room. A chill from outside caressed your bare skin and you shivered.

Was the king truly mad? Or were you? And why did he make you want to find out which?

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

[fuckyeahcostumedramas]

John Boyega as King Ghezo in The Woman King (Film, 2022).

[embodiedinscribed]

The moment between Viola Davis and John Boyega when her eyes say 'I had to rescue my daughter and slaughter the enemy who raped me and burn down the colonizers who kidnapped them regardless of the consequences' and his eyes say 'you did exactly what I ordered you not to immediately after I offered you unprecedented power and equality but also you obliterated our enemy - that moment is everything.

[panafrocore]

The Magnificent Throne of King Ghezo of Dahomey

King Ghezo’s throne from Abomey, which dates from the early 19th century, King Ghezo’s throne from Abomey is an extraordinary historical artifact that offers a fascinating glimpse into the rich cultural and artistic heritage of the kingdom of Dahomey, which is now present-day Benin. Crafted in the early 19th century, this magnificent piece holds immense significance as a symbol of power,…

[melaninpov]

I was NOT expecting this. I thought sis was gonna get a pass he seemed so chill. I should’ve known better and she was game too. Im cracking up. Both of them are freaks. I’m starting to think she did it on purpose just to get this reaction out of him lol.

Think Of Me. Part Two. (+18)

Summary: King Ghezo teaches his wife a little lesson after she's done being stubborn from last night.

(warnings: praise, bondage, oral,(male receiving) PIV. size kink. )

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair (here’s part two, enjoy!❤️

—————

King Ghezo softly opened the double doors to my master bedroom, his dark brown eyes fixed on me as I prepared for bed, I was still clad in the same brown silk robe from the previous evening, He kissed my exposed shoulder as the moonlight shimmered on my brown skin.

While he embraced me by wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder, pulling my back close to his chiseled chest.

His hands deftly untied the drawstrings of my silk robe and gently pulled it apart for the robe to expose my chest to the cold wind from outside, with his warm breath tickling my skin causing me to shiver in his arms.

“Is there something you need My King?” I asked him softly, slightly turning my head to face him.

“What I need is for my wife to be taught a lesson from your attitude last night…” He whispered, pecking my neck softly.

“Yes, teach me a lesson…” I whispered, I took off my robe and allowed the fabric to gracefully fall to the carpet.

“Get on the bed..” he demanded, his hands roaming down to the curves of my body.

I quickly hopped onto the bed, swiftly rolling my panties down and took them off my ankles. Meanwhile, he smoothly slipped out of his robe, followed by his pants and boxers. His dick sprang out with the quickness, catching my attention and causing my mouth to water. Anticipation filled me as I bit my lip, longing to indulge in every inch of him if given the chance.

“Pleasure your king my love..” He whispered, lifting my chin to meet his lustful gaze and sly grin.

My tongue gently traced the veins of his thick lengthy manhood, while the warm sensation of saliva slowly dripped down towards his balls. Ghezo emitted gasps and uttered deep, guttural moans, "fuck...good girl.." he muttered, my eyes flickered towards his as my full lips sucked the tip of his dick, lapping the tangy taste of precum that spurts from his tip.

I moaned lewdly around him repeatedly as I moved away from his dick, making a wet pop sound. Unexpectedly, he firmly grasped my ankles and fastened the white ropes on my ankles to the headboard, securing my legs wide open.

“It’s time for to you learn your lesson…” he spoke softly, pecking my lips twice.

Before I could respond, I felt his hand travel down my body, his fingers grazing my inner thighs, teasingly close to where I craved him the most. My breath hitched, anticipation coursing through my veins as I surrendered to his control.

"P-please don't tease me..." i begged lowly, shaking my head from side to side.

Ghezo's lips descended upon my neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses and gentle nips, marking me as his. His touch was both gentle and possessive, his fingertips tracing patterns on my skin, "Touch me...." i whispered again, in need of friction.

He parted my folds swiftly as his fingers delved into my folds, inviting wetness that stained his fingers. A moan escaped my lips, blending with his deep chuckle as he relished the effect he had on me. His touch was electrifying, his fingers expertly pumping in and out of my sensitive flesh, drawing out the pleasure that had been building inside me.

But just as I was about to reach the peak of ecstasy, he withdrew his fingers, leaving me aching and desperate for more. I whimpered in protest, my eyes pleading with him to continue, but he only smirked, his dominance evident in his gaze.

"You must learn patience, my love," he whispered, his voice dripping with desire. "Tonight, I am in control." he whispered, pecking my lips gently.

I watched as he positioned his dick at my entrance, his eyes locked with mine, silently asking for permission. I slowly nod, and I gave myself over to him completely, Ghezo slides his length between my folds and filled me up completely, "Oh fuck..." We both moaned at the same time, he pushed his hips at a fast pace, easily sliding in and out of my pussy, and my essence splatters around him.

“I-I’m sorry, my King…” I apologized, my hands gripped the headboard for dear life, a wave of pleasure and pain washed over me, tears of pure bliss rolling down my cheeks.

The delicate slap of his skin meeting mine mingled with the creaking of the bed filling the room, he gave me a plethora of deep, jagged thrusts making me contrast around his dick, “I don't think you mean that….” he growled, his voice laced with dominance.

I let out a sudden breath, "Y-Yess...just like that..." i dragged out, the intense sensation flooded my entire being. The tip of his dick jabbed my g-spot, sweat rolling down my forehead, causing my eyes to roll back in ecstasy. his hands held onto my hips tighter, our moans harmonized.

His strokes grew more slower with the familiar tightening in my stomach building up, “i-i’m so sorry..” I repeated again, we both reached our peaks. My orgasm crashed through my body. Without saying anything, my juices gushed on his dick and covered him completely.

I was breathless with the subtle rasp slipped in my speech, “I.…i…fuck…” I dragged out, and Ghezo’s release followed suit, his thick ropes of warm cum spurting inside me, filling me with every drop.

He untied my ankles from the headboard as we collapsed onto the bed, our bodies entwined and covered in a sheen of sweat. Our breathing slowly returned to normal as he cradled my face in his hands, “You're forgiven my love…” he panted, pecking my lips twice. His arms holding me close to his chest.

Ghezo pressed a tender kiss to my forehead, "Remember, Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with affection.

"Lessons can be pleasurable too." he replied, his teeth caught between his lips, I nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

—————

▶︎▶︎Part Three.◀︎◀︎

[soft-persephone]

I Will Be Your End pt. 2

Vampire!Abel Morales x Vampire!F!Reader x Vampire!Fontaine x reader

Oscar Isaac x Reader x John Boyega

MDNI // Part One // Explicit // warnings: descriptions of blood l, gore, mention of abuse, fantastical non con but no R word or SA // masterlist

“I think you’ve made up your mind.” Shante said sadly.

“I think I have.” You added with finality.

At that moment Abel and Ghezo walked in.

Abel was still upset, but his anger had subsided.

You rushed over to him. Cupping his face and looking into his eyes.

“I’m fine.” He sighed and patted your hand on his cheek before slowly lowering it, not letting go. He clasped your hands tighter together as they fell by your sides.

“I think it’s time we made our leave.”

Leto nodded, and you both left. Hand in hand.

The crowd had died down, but the music was still thumping. The bass booming as you got your coats at the door.

Abel skipped the vallet and you both walked. Where you were going you didn’t know. You couldn’t bring yourself to care either.

The moon was a crescent. A small sliver of white and silver, the air unforgivably cold. Abel let you clasp your arm in his as you both faced the night together.

“You’re planning to kill him?” He asked calmly. Like he wanted to know what you wanted for dinner.

“I am.”

He nodded, bouncing his head from side to side, weighing the pros and cons in his head.

“If you kill him, I can’t have you stay with me.”

He stopped walking, and so did you.

You looked into his eyes. What once brought you warmth was now chilling you to the bone. The moon is a far away thing. The sun may give it a glow, but it’s just dark rock far away in space for no one to see, but even then did it have an even colder, darker side.

“I guess that’s how it will be then.”

Abel’s jaw clenched. Closing his eyes, he turned away from you for just a moment.

When he opened them, he also opened his mouth to reply, but then he froze.

“Wh—“

“— they’re still on your neck?”

You scrunch your eyes in confusion. “What are you—“

“— why are they still on your neck?” Abel raised his voice. “The- where he bit you! Why are the holes still on your neck? Every other wound, scar, or bruise will heal as soon as you want it to, but you hold on to these?” He seethes at you, grabbing your arm.

You paused.

“Oh.”

“Answer me!” He hissed. His eyes were glowing, frantic and crazed as he looked at you.

You wanted to run your hands through his hair.

“I was thinking about looking at them in the mirror. I didn’t know I could control whether they stayed or not.”

He bristled, not exactly calming down, but he didn’t get angrier either.

“Do you know what I’ve been thinking this whole time?”

You shook your head. Not wanting to interrupt him.

“I can’t get the image of you and another vampire out of my mind. How you looked at him and how he looked at you! How you let his hands touch every inch of you and how you clearly wanted to touch every inch of him. His mouth on your skin!”

He threw his hands up. Taking a step away from you before whirling to face you once more.

“As soon as we stepped outside I wanted to drag you into that alley!”

“Abel—“

“Shut up!” He pushed you Into the wall of whatever building you two were in front of.

“I wanted to bite over whatever holes you wouldn’t let go of until they were ripped and raw. I wanted to compel you to not let them heal, so I could watch the ripped holes of your flesh bleed out and out. The tender meat of your neck and collar mangled by my mouth and my mouth alone.”

He was panting now. His voice softer.

“I wanted to erase him from you and claim you as my own. . . But you’d hate me for it. You would have never forgiven me, and vowed to kill me just like you do this other vampire called Fontaine.”

You watched his eyes frantically search your face as his chest heaved up and down.

“You’re right.” You swallowed. “I would have.”

You slowly raised your hand to his cheek and he nuzzled into your hand, briefly touching it with his lips. Tentatively, you brought it to his hair.

With a smile you sighed.

His hair was so soft. It was softer than anything you could have imagined. He closed his eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair over and over again, savoring the feeling.

“Thank you.” You whispered softly.

He opened his eyes. Much calmer now.

“Anytime.” The cold air made his breath visible as it fawned into the air over your face.

“I’m not going to stop you. I just want to make sure you really know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“I know.” You sighed.

He nodded, stepping away from the building and off of you. He let out a hand to keep you from stumbling back into the sidewalk.

“Let’s go home where it’s warm.”

-

“She said that?” Fontaine swallowed and sat down.

Slick was wincing as he stood, waiting for Fontaine to throw something.

“She did.” Yoyo fiddled with her hands in front of her.

“But did you not hear the other shit I said. About the doppelganger's and prophecy?”

“Now let’s not put the horses first before the carriage just yet. We don’t know for sure if it’s a prophecy.”

“Like hell we don’t!”

“Shut, the fuck, up.” Fontaine glared at them one by one.

“Either way, I think it’s time I go over there and find her before she finds me.”

Yo-yo started talking about what he should and shouldn’t do, and He was sure that as Slick opened his mouth to agree with whatever Yo-yo was saying, but

Fontaine waved them both off and with a hand walked out the door without saying a word.

Looking at the sky he sighed.

He might have five more hours left of moonlight before he needed to get inside somewhere. That was plenty of time for a heed start.

Stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets, he started heading out.

Every other person gave him some sort of smile or greeting. Not aware that he was going to be gone for some time.

Was it this time of night when you left him?

It’s only been a few hours since your tie to the clan was gone. There wasn't a big boom or some large wave of energy. Just a small trickle of something going away, forever.

He can’t let it go out like that.

Everyone demanded to know why.

Who is this girl Fontaine? Why did you bring her here? Why did you turn her?

He wanted to explain, he tried to, but even Yo-yo didn’t understand, so he just stopped explaining. He stopped talking about it.

He wished he could explain the way his mind was screaming at him, or maybe it was his soul burning, eating him alive from the inside out until he turned you.

An explainable force, or maybe his own selfishness was just that strong,

Fontaine shook his head and sighed.

No point in focusing on the past.

Reaching into his mind he looked over the memories Yo-yo had showed him a week ago of when she followed your path to New York and the trail of bodies you left.

It’s not possible for you to be stronger than him. You had only been turned ten years ago, and you fought the process so hard.

He tugged his jacket a little harder as the chill of the night started to settle further into his bones. His thoughts drifted to the first time he met you.

He remembered seeing you at that party around your friends. A literal light seemed to shine out of you, making you stand out amongst every person.

He couldn't help but stare at you as you bounded to and fro.

Even talking to you felt like a song in his ears. Like you were some witch putting him under a spell. Outside of your own aura, you made him feel seen. Truly and utterly seen.

When he turned he didn’t know what to do, and everything was so hectic and chaotic.

He was turned and had no idea. He remembered how he suffered. How scared and painful it was, but only for one day. He quickly made his way.

But stumbling around town one night, no one missed him. No one asked about him or wondered where he was. His so-called friends only acted as if he’d been shut in his house, keeping to himself for no reason at all.

Only the homeless old man outside the liquor store seemed to notice.

He pushed away the thoughts of everything that came next.

He hated thinking about finding out his life was a lie. That everyone had been turned and compelled to forget, so they can be observed like a big colony of fucking lab rats.

In a large field of grass, there were stray lines of paint and stray pieces of yellow tape.

Yo-yo had pulled up an article saying it was an animal attack. They all knew it was something else.

You were here.

Finding a tree with more than enough shade, he stumbled down underneath it and out his back to the trunk. Looking up, he watched the wind rustle the leaves.

Daylight would come soon.

He closed his eyes, continuing to think of you.

He wished he could take it back. The pain that is.

When he saw you and you talked to him, something in him started screaming.

He knew if he didn’t turn you, the screaming wouldn't stop. The buzzing underneath his skin would grow and grow and drive him crazy until he found you again.

He had to turn you. He didn’t know how or why, but he knew he was supposed to.

As soon as his lips touched your skin, he came to terms with the idea of you hating him. You’d hate him, but you’d still be with him. He could find a way to gain your trust, somehow make amends with you and beg for some type of forgiveness later, but at least he’d have you.

But once he turned you and took you somewhere safe to transition. Before he could even get the chance to make yours less painful and lovely as his, you fought every step of the process. You ended up in a coma, rejecting every little change to your body.

Everyone expected you to die.

But he couldn’t. He didn’t lose hope, he had to hope.

Because accepting a world where he killed you forever to be lost, is not one he could have accepted, so he’d hope.

But now. . .

He sighed.

He’d make it right. He didn’t know how, but by everything on this raft he’d find a way to make it right. There was nothing else to live for. There was no purpose. Everyone in the Glenn was free to do whatever they wanted to do.

So he’d focus his eternity of death, to begging for your forgiveness. . . . On you.

On quiet moments like this, if he’d closed his eyes and concentrated on you, he could hear your voice. He could feel your energy.

You thought of him sometimes. He could feel the anger and pain, your fury. But it would pitter out into nothing and then you’d be gone.

“Is he still alive?” Fontaine didn’t know that voice.

“Yes.” You huffed, closing a book and tossing it to the end of the bed.

“You don’t sound disappointed.”

Fontaine scrunched his brow and frowned.

He wasn’t in the woods anymore. He was in a bed, lying on top of plush cream sheets.

He opened his eyes and saw you.

Your large natural hair and how it fanned across your features and shaped your face. Your big brown eyes and how they seemed to grow bigger with adoration and fondness for the man on the other side of you.

“I won’t say anything to convince you, but you already know how I feel.”

There was another man on the other side of you. Tan skin and a dark head of hair. He looked rich. This bedroom looked like it belonged to a man that could buy the whole Glenn if he wanted.

Someone who doesn’t know they even exist and would probably never give a fuck about them either.

“What would you say to him,” you almost got up, but Abel put a hand on your shoulder, “I’m not telling you to actually do it. I’m just creating a hypothetical question.”

You sighed, and settled back down to the bed, snuggling closer to the strange rich man’s side.

Away from him.

He swallowed and momentarily licked his lips.

“If he was here right now,” Fontaine looked over to him and met his eyes. Briefly flashing an old yellow gold. Fontaine kept the same face, puffing his chest and clenching his jaw a bit, “what would you say to him.”

The had you had comfortably placed on his chest started to grab and squeeze at the fabric of his shirt.

“Why?” You huffed out a breath and sucked it back in a little too quickly, causing your voice to crack and Fontaine’s heart to break. “Why me? Why this way?”

“Fuck you!” You sobbed now, burying your face into his chest. “Fuck you for doing this to me! For taking me away from my family, for ruining my life!”

Fontaine woke up with a start. The air was hot.

The sun glaring just a few feet away from him outside the shade of the tree.

He closed his eyes and pushed away the feelings that were starting to rise within him. Ignoring that he had no idea how to make this right.

-

Fontaine’s eyes snapped open at the smell of blood. The chill of his own power coursed through his veins. The cold tendrils of his magic was something he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to.

But it was fitting.

Before he ever had an ounce of magic, when he didn’t know his entire existence was a lie, he was often accused of icing people out, that he was too cold and rigid, never letting anyone in, that he was standoffish and rigid in his anger and retaliation. . . But that wasn’t true.

He felt a fire growing within him from the moment he saw you.

He’s been chasing the warmth of your glow that basked over him on your first night together. The heat of your skin burning his, reaching far down in his pores and burning his insides.

He was a moth and you were his flame.

As he followed the scent of blood the magic in his veins caused his pulse to race faster and he started running.

He didn’t know how. He couldn’t prove or explain it, but he knew you’d be near it. That when he got to the source of the blood, he’d see you.

He just needed to see you.

The trees were getting thicker, and the smell was stronger. He slowed down, stepping carefully in case you decided to run if you saw him. . . Or worse.

The man from the vision thing was there. He was wearing a long wool coat and suit. He rolled his eyes as he remembered the useless details about his wardrobe that Slick went on and on about.

A cigarette loose in between his fingers, he bit into the neck of a young light skinned man. Full figured and thick hair. He could see his face clearly despite how far he was standing. He had his vampire instinct magic bullshit to thank for that.

His heart swelled as he watched you standing to the side. Despite the situation, he smiled.

You were wearing baggy jorts and an oversized Nike shirt, he knew you paid way too much for. If he remembered correctly that was one of your dream pieces of clothing and from the off white cream sneakers you wore, you got your dream pair of shoes to match. You told him you were too scared of baggy clothing. You feared it made you look bigger then you actually were or sloppy or some shit like that.

This man though, this other man you been with had some typa money.

He smacked his teeth.

He could have copped all that and more for you if you let him.

“Wait,” the man held out a hand as you leaned in too close to him and the boy, well boy might too harsh, but Fontaine wasn’t exactly thrilled about your relationship with this stranger and whatever the fuck you were getting up to without him, “take a step back.”

You smacked your teeth and then groaned into the air. The gold in your mouth twinkling underneath the moonlight.

His heart stopped.

You kept them.

The air around Fontaine grew chilly, frost starting to form in the grass and leaves underneath his feet, and it’s not because it was in the middle of winter on the east coast.

“Pleaaase, hurry up Abel.” You begged. “You said I could start feeding again.

Fontaine didn’t know too much about being a vampire, but he knew the signs of overeating. And you had more than enough over the last few months. It’s not too soon to start eating again, but with a strict schedule and guidance, it might not.

Who the fuck does this guy think he is?

Abel paused, taking a step back from the human and gave you a hard look.

“It’s not too late to go home and call it a night.” Taking one last drag from the cigarette in his hand, he put it out on the human’s skin, but instead of protesting or crying out in pain he sounded like he. . . enjoyed it.

Fontaine wanted to be here a little less now.

What kind of freaky messed up shit was this? Did you like this? Are you even into this kinda shit?

“Abel, please.” Your eyes were wide now, pupils so large and black Fontaine swore he could see the moon reflecting off of them. Your lips pouting as your wide button nose scrunched up from the cold.

“You aren’t some fucking wild animal with instincts and a dumb fucking brain. You are a vampire,” Abel growled at you with bared fangs, “act like it.”

He sighed. Balling his fist. “Reach deep down within you, that fucking hunger, that urge to just devour,” he looked into your eyes, hard.

You nodded. Mouth closed.

“Control it. Fight it.”

He bit into the boys next.

The sound of Abel's teeth breaking into his skin sounded like a grape snapping, when he chomped his jaw and sucked the sounds of flesh mushing and wrangling outside of its natural state were the only sounds they could hear, amplified with their supernatural hearing abilities.

He moaned as Abel began to suck the blood from his body, one, two to three seconds before he licked at some of the blood that was rapidly falling out of the gaping gash on his neck.

You licked your lips and swallowed.

“You're doing so well Jay.”

Jay kept his eyes closed. “Really?” He asked meekly, probably unaware of just how much blood was leaving his body.

You have a pointed look at Abel and he gave you one to match. Fontaine had no idea what was goin on because neither one of you we’re saying anything.

Abel took a few steps over to a tree. Keeping his eyes on you and Jay.

“Wait.” Was all he said.

As the silence stretched in the clearing of the forest, snow began to fall. Decorating the crimson in a backdrop of white.

Abel nodded and you were on Jay in an instant.

Not even thinking of removing your grill, you dove right in. Placing your mouth over the mangled ripped marks on his neck that Abel had left. There was no need for you to have to bite him, but Jay seemed just as satisfied.

“That’s enough.” Abel’s voice was barely above a whisper, but you immediately pulled off of Jay and stopped.

You froze, waiting.

Nothing.

You looked up to Abel with a smile.

“I did it!”

“I told you, you could do it.” He smiled softly, letting out a breath of relief through his nose.

He walked over to you, his footsteps crunching in the snow, and placed a hand on either side of your face, smiling from ear to ear.

You gave him a smile too match and his face faltered for a second.

Then he kissed you.

Fontaine's heart stopped cold as he watched him nudge your mouth open with his as his hands slid up your sides to the back of your neck as his tongue slipped into yours. Hating, how you two seemed to be sharing the taste of Jay’s blood off of one another.

“Wait,” Abel stopped breathlessly, biting his wrist he shoved it a little too quickly and strongly into Jay’s mouth, almost knocking him over. Jay cried out a little but took one suck and shoved his wrist away. “You're alright, son.” Abel patted him on the back as he dry heaved over the snow.

“It’s always so gross!” He sucked in a large breath of air, “every time!”

Fishing his hand into his pocket he gave you a small smile before presenting a large wad of cash towards you.

“T-t-thank you.” He looked at Abel who only stared at him. He wasn’t glaring, but he had a certain way of holding himself that put people off of him. This strange air of polite superiority that intimated in ways people were unfamiliar with.

“I.. better go.” He gave you one more timid smile before waving and stuffing his hands in his now ripped hoodie pockets, trailing away in the snow.

“Are we like, hookers or something? Did he just give us money like in a sex worker way?”

“No,” Abel raised an eyebrow, “he gave you money like a sex worker or hooker.”

You slapped him, biting your cheek to keep from smiling. “We should have taken him home.” Was all you said.

“Hell be fine.” Abel huffed softly, the cold air making his breath form a small white cloud in your face, making you smile even wider.

“Maybe—“

“You been a good bitch for your new master?” Fontaine gave you a crooked cruel smile.

It was one thing to see another man kiss you, but the way you were smiling at him? The way you looked at this other man like he was the world? That you trusted him with everything? When you looked at him as if he was your safe place? That. He could not take.

He was about to yell out how this new man was your new pimp, but he was unprepared with how fast you flung your entire body at him.

He was unprepared for your hands to almost ring around his neck and pop it off his shoulders, but he already had your hands in front of him in an iron grip as he moved to the side and let you grab his arm.

“Huh,” he laughed bitterly in your face, “you really do wanna kill me, huh?”

“And I fucking can too.”

Fontaine wanted to keep fighting you, for you to keep yelling at him because if he couldn’t get you to love him, he’d be happy to have you hate him. Pain or pleasure, happy or sad, at least he was around you.

Your hand hurled toward his face faster than his eyes could naturally perceive so he pulled from his own magic to counterattack, preparing to move just as fast as you, but as time slowed around you two, he could only focus on your face.

Your eyes.

From the corners of your irises, tendrils of purple were swarming the dark natural brown of your eyes, and he froze.

“You’re. . . Purple.”

His words made you miss and stumble.

“What the fuc—“

In a blink, you were gone.

The man in a coat . . . Abel, was the only person left standing in front of him. His chest heaving up and down as he breathed out his mouth. He clenched his jaw before closing his mouth. His gaze was hard and steady.

Fontaine squared his shoulders, but otherwise didn’t move.

“This ain’t about you,” Fontaine fought the urge to bare his teeth, “what we have is between us.”

“Well it becomes about me when a vampire you recently turned comes into my territory claiming it happened without their consent.”

“Aye man. I don’t know wha—“

Abel was on him in an instant. Shoving Fontaine back into the nearest tree, making him cough up blood.

“You’re weak,” Abel spoke through his teeth. Fontaine opened his mouth to say something but Abel only bounced his head off the tree. “I’m not talking about how old you are. I’m talking about how you had one chance to own up to your mistakes and lay everything out on the table with her, but you decided to use pretty fucking words instead.”

He looked into Fontaine's eyes, waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t, he pushed off of him.

“You’re a childish coward.”

“And you’re better?” Fontaine balled his fist when Abel didn’t reply.

“Just because you’re the first fucking thing she ran into while she was running away doesn’t make you better.”

“I don’t know anything about you to hate you. I can barely determine if I even have the energy to think about you.”

“I could say the same thing about you, moutherfucka.”

Abel leveled Fontaine with a look. He was standing rigid and he could tell he was getting on his fucking nerves but he wouldn’t fight him. Most vampires, witches, or whatever else magic bullshit was out there would have tried to hurt him by now.

“I’m sure we both are more than strong enough to snap one another’s necks, but,” Abel’s eyes flashed an old yellow, “I need you. . . She needs you.”

“That’s not what she said last night.” Fontaine shook his head and sat on the snow.

“And I gave you more than enough time to try and fix that, but you’d rather stumble around throwing petty insults with your tail between your legs.”

“Then how. . . “ Fontaine held up his hands out in front of him before sighing, “how do you know she needs me?”

Abel pulled his coat to the side to put his hands into his suit pockets, the cold starting to get to him.

“It’s a prophecy,” Fontaine’s head snapped up and Abel needed to look into the sky, “I’m not good with this magic shit, but I know rules and regulations when I see them.”

“Fucking magic. . .” Fontaine muttered.

“Yeah,” Abel smiled weakly before continuing, “there’s three older vampires who look exactly like us, I think you know one.”

“I’m not talking about it.” Fontaine let his legs fall out straight and he stuffed his hands into his jacket.

“Well, we’re destined to be together, any lifetime, any circumstance, and usually as vampires. We apparently can’t live without one another.”

Fontaine nodded.

“And she wants to kill me.”

“She wants to kill you.”

Fontaine and Abel let the silence stretch between them. Watching the snow fall and cover everything in sight. The moon was large and white and it shined down and gave the forest a picturesque glow.

“Her eyes were purple.”

[melaninpov]

King Ghezo in The Woman King

[megamindsecretlair]

The King and I, Part 3

Pairing: King Ghezo x Virgin!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT AND ANGST. Don't say I ain't warn ya. Mentions of violence, forceful touching. Virginity loss. PIV, Oral (fem receiving) , all consensual. Doesn't follow canon of the movie.

Summary: You continue to enjoy your burgeoning life with the King. Though there is nothing to do and you fear that your life will revolve around him and him only. He shows you more beautiful sights and you decide to take the relationship to the next level.

Word Count: 8,016k

A/N: I don't know what happened. Forgive me! I did not intend for this to be so long, but I turned my mind off and let the story take me where it would. If you need a wind down from Christmas festivities, here ya go! Merry Christmas my lovelies. Or Happy Monday to those who don't celebrate. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @gg-trini @eggnox @naj-ay444 @sheepywritesfics @westside-rot @twocentuar @pinkpantheris @tchallasbabymama @sevikasblackgf @slippinninque @abeautifulmindexposed @neawarren @monaeesstuff @blackerthings @melaninpov @1-800anklebully @mogul93 @softimgyu @henneseyhoe @blowmymbackout @softscorpio17 @theunsweetenedtruth

You liked kissing. You really liked kissing. You had no love for your father, but you could thank him for keeping you from this experience until your marriage. You liked closing your eyes and feeling the King’s lips against yours. 

The King stole kisses whenever he could. Before and after meetings. During meals. You felt silly kissing him in front of his first wife but she only smiled or directed her attention elsewhere. You wondered if she was capable of speaking. You knew nothing about her and she offered precious little. 

The King would settle your thoughts of her by kissing your worries away. His kisses always started soft as a dove’s wing. He would look at you, trace your face with his fingers, and then pull you closer. His lips would press against yours. The first joining was your favorite. When he would linger before going deeper, spearing his tongue between your lips and exploring your mouth.

Then the kiss would light a fire inside you, deep down in your core. Where it felt like you would burn from the inside out. Burn with need. That need would drive you insane but you were always interrupted before things went further. A eunuch would come to collect the King or Nanisca would need his attention or there was some council member who needed to speak with him and they would take him away from you. 

One of his eunuchs came up to him now, spoke in his ear. “Already?” The King asked. The eunuch nodded. The King frowned but nodded.

He promised to see you later, but not before one last kiss. He traced your lips with his thumb, looked at your lips as if he were reluctant to leave, and then gave you that smile that never failed to make your knees weak. 

Left to your own devices, there wasn’t much for you to do. You did not have babies yet so there was no reason to visit the nursery. The first wife spent most of her time there with her babies. Sometimes you’d catch them walking around the palace garden.

His sons were beautiful. They looked like they would grow big and strong like him. The lines of succession weren’t always so cut and dry. The oldest wasn’t necessarily the heir but you could see that little boy taking over for his father.

All you had was your imagination to keep you company. This afternoon, there was no meeting to attend. So you wandered around the palace with a routine you set for yourself. 

You started off wandering towards the training field. The Agojie were intimidating. Sometimes you watched them through the windows. Watched them train and imagined living amongst them. In another life, perhaps you were braver. Tougher. Perhaps you would have been able to stand up to your father sooner. 

Growing up in the village, you had heard plenty of vile things said about the Agojie. Old men would lament about a woman’s place and how it was not to wield swords and protect the village. Bitter women would gossip about the mannish Agojie who could not find husbands and now never would. 

You admired them from the first moment you heard about them. Fierce women who were strong like men, pretty, and bonded in sisterhood. You always wanted a sister. You wanted the bonds that others seemed to enjoy. Even when sisters bickered and fought, it was out of love. 

You were a lonely child. With nothing but your mother and father for company, you learned to escape away in your head. Where you had a house full of beautiful kids, a loving husband who never raised a hand to you in anger, and a life spent laughing too much and drinking too much. 

What you never truly imagined though, was life beyond the wedding part. In your many musings, the wedding was part of it. You weren’t picky one way or another about what you would wear, what the feast would look like, what the flowers would be. But you knew your mother would help make it a special day, no matter how much your father would protest about every little detail. 

Beyond that…you had no idea what your marriage would look like. The men your father paraded in front of you were too old, too skinny, too ugly, too mean, too…gross. The way they would look at you still made you shudder in revulsion. You could not see a life with them. 

You never in your wildest imaginings thought you’d be married to the king. Not only married to the king, but kissing the king. And liking to kiss the king. You laid awake all night thinking about his kisses. His muscles. His chest. What he would look like naked.

You ducked your head and looked around you, at the empty hallway as if your thoughts were projected onto the walls. You had never seen a man naked. Had never cared to. But the more time you spent with the King, the more you found yourself wanting to. Wanting something and having the means to get it were alien concepts to you. 

You were forced to sift through your emotions and thoughts as you walked the halls every  day. The King was not evil. He was a man with a heavy burden and sometimes had to make decisions that seemed cruel. Kings in the past dealt with hardships, but considering the unprecedented attack across the lands, it was a wonder the King did half as good a job as he did. 

Your wanderings took you to the palace gardens anyway. You walked the paths, admiring the rich reds, purples, and pinks of the flowers growing there and lovingly tended to by palace servants. Trees stretched to the sky. You sat on a patch of grass, careful to avoid any potential wet spots. 

You laid back so that the sky was completely open to you. It truly amazed you that you were…free to do this. To do nothing. No one demanded anything from you. No one made you speak when you didn’t want to. No one talked bad about you to your face as if you weren’t standing right there. 

And yet…you were inexplicably still lonely. There was no one to really talk to besides your servant but her job was to talk to you. The first wife was content to live in her own little bubble and you were content to let her. The last thing you would do was to disturb her peace when precious few women got that in life. You could talk to the King and he was a remarkable conversationalist, but he was still a man. 

Your thoughts turned once more to the King. Lately, you thought of him more and more. Not only did he make you laugh, he also made you giddy. He made you think and challenge your thoughts. And you found yourself watching him, unable to tear your eyes away. His clothes were always finely tailored. His hair perfectly coiled and styled atop his head. His strong jaw, wide smile. 

What would it feel like if he were on top of you? If he peeled your dress off? If his fingers gripped your thighs…

“What are you thinking about so hard?” 

You gasped and sat up in a panic. Your head smacked into something hard and you yelped in pain. The King knelt down, cooing at you. 

“I am sorry, my Queen. Surely you will kill me for this,” he said. He prodded at your forehead. You hissed and jerked away from him. He sighed and planted a tender kiss to the spot. 

“The day is still young, my King,” you said but there was no real heat. You smiled at him and he smiled back. 

“I am spared for the moment, then,” he said. 

You fixed your crimson red robes and willed your heart to stop thundering in your chest. He could not read your thoughts and you hoped that your face did not betray you. Your hands shook at getting caught thinking something so naughty. The King has done nothing but made you feel safe and heard. But how did you let him know that you wanted to try? 

“You did not answer my question. You looked deep in thought and I was jealous your attention was elsewhere,” he said.

You giggled and his smile grew wider. “How can you possibly be jealous of my thoughts?” 

“They get to know what you’re thinking and I do not,” he said. 

You didn’t want to lie but you also didn’t want to tell him what you were thinking. You raised such a huge fuss about him being in your room on your wedding night, you feared that if he knew he’d take you to bed right this instant. The thought both thrilled you and terrified you. 

You drew your knees to yourself, as far as you were able with your tummy in the way, and bit your lip. 

“If you must know, I was thinking about you.” You peeked at him and he tilted his head. 

“Now you must really tell me what you were thinking. Your king demands it of you,” he said with a grin. 

You giggled and shook your head. “And give up my secrets so easily? You must earn them, husband,” you said. 

Surprise made his entire face open up. It was the first time you had called him such and by the look on his face, he noticed too. “How may I earn them, wife?” His voice grew deeper. It made your belly do a funny flip. 

“I’m sure you can think of something, husband,” you said. This was as far as your bravery allowed you to go. You wished you were more bold. That you could rip off his gold robes and taste his skin. That his hands would roam your body in previously forbidden places and douse this inferno in your veins. 

King Ghezo smiled and leaned closer, planting a kiss high on your cheek, near your ear. “I’m sure I can think of something, wife.” Shivers wracked through your body. “Come. I wish to show you something.” 

He stood up and held out his hands. You took his and he helped you stand. You dusted your robes and made sure it was still secure around your body. Then, he took your hand and led you out of the palace gardens. 

He asked about your day while he pulled you through the palace. There was nothing remarkable about it but he wanted to hear every bit of it. He thought your fascination with the Agojie was adorable. He told you that he liked how animated you were when you spoke about them.

“Should I be worried that you are getting ideas from my Agojie on how to kill me?” He asked.

You shrugged. “I deserve some credit. I would not choose something so obvious,” you said and smiled. 

“No, you would not. I will figure it out,” he said. You giggled as you emerged on the other end of the palace, towards the path that led you to “your spot”. He had shared the cliffside view with you many times by now but it was always in the morning or day time. 

The sun was setting, the giant resting its eye now as it descended in the horizon. But it was like it couldn’t resist one last peak at the world before it yielded the sky to the moon. You looked overhead. The dark purples and oranges were mixing and stars were starting to poke through.

King Ghezo tugged you to your spot and you thought he wanted to look at the sunset. Instead, he looked back to make sure there were no guards or servants nearby. Then, he moved a heavy branch out of the way revealing a sloping path downward. 

“What is this?” You asked.

“Do you trust me, wife?” The King asked.

You stared at his open face. He’s had plenty of chances to kill you by now. In fact, you stopped carrying your knife and finally returned it to the kitchen. You were not in danger of that from him. He had been nothing but kind. If he truly were cruel, he would have shown his true colors by now. 

So…yes. You nodded your head. “I trust you,” you said. 

The King grinned and squeezed your hand. Then, he descended down the slope telling you to step where he steps. And if there was an area you were concerned about, to let him know. You followed behind him with the darkening sky to your right. It took your breath away. Though to descend the cliff, you weren’t paying too much attention to the sunset. 

What was it that he wanted to show you? 

At the bottom of the cliff, there was a small beach area. It wasn’t that wide, but there was enough space to feel open and small enough to feel cozy. Your feet sank into the soft sand and you gasped at the sensation.

You grinned at the King and he was already watching you. “It’s so mushy!” 

“I found this as a boy and told no one. The guards and Agojie will likely close this off if they ever knew. When I want to be alone, sometimes I come here. I don’t stay for long. If the King goes missing, it tends to cause a fuss,” he said. 

He pulled you onto the beach proper. Your jaw dropped at seeing the ocean up close. The sun’s light only reached so far now. The moon was high in the sky, casting a faint glow over the water. You fought tears as you looked out over the darkened water. The King continued to show you sights you never imagined. 

He pulled you closer to the water. Where the water touched the sand, your feet sunk deeper still. The wet, squishy sand burrowed between your toes. The waves washed up on shore and over your feet. You squealed when the cold water hit your skin. The King laughed at your reaction.

He took your hand and spun you around in the water. You giggled as you did so, feeling silly, but it was a nice feeling. A freeing feeling. A feeling as close to flying as you could possibly get. You began to feel dizzy and stopped spinning. You swayed and the King caught you. You gazed at him, held in his arms, and feeling…happy. Strangely, wonderfully, magnificently happy.

“My King…” you breathed. You had no adequate words to thank him. This was yet another thing he was able to take for granted and he shared it with you. Distantly, you wondered if he took his first wife here too. But that kind of thinking would only make you feel sick. 

“I like when you call me husband more,” he said. 

You smiled at him. “Husband it is then,” you said. 

“Does this earn me one of your secrets?” The King asked. 

Your cheeks were going to hurt from all of this smiling. How was it that he was able to manage the land and still remember silly conversations between you? 

“What is it you would like to know?” You asked. 

“Have I earned your love yet?” He frowned slightly and you wondered why. You were still leaning into his arms, as close as…well, lovers. There were more shadows now and the quiet lull of the waves on the shore ensured a kind of intimacy. 

The moonlight made his skin shine and you licked your lips. It would be okay to admit this in the safety of night. When your face was not fully on display and you didn’t have to worry about how foolish you looked. A wife confessing her love to her husband.

“I do love you, my King. Despite my best attempts otherwise,” you said, with a smile. 

“Why attempt otherwise? Am I that undesirable for a husband?” He asked.

“No!” You nearly shouted. How could you put this? 

“Outside these palace walls, there are lots of rumors about you. We don’t know you as a people, which is to be expected. And if a father is to throw away his daughter, it is at your doorstep they discard us. Filled with thoughts of rumors and whispers. I expected you to be like any other man. Cruel, greedy, and dimwitted.” 

You watched his face, but it was carefully controlled. Watching you with mild interest as you tried to explain your feelings. “But you are kind, smart, and funny. You…you’re safe. And I love you for making me feel safe,” you said.

The King took a deep breath. He grabbed your hands and brought them to his lips. He kissed both. Then he pulled you into a hug. “I can die happy knowing that I’ve earned your love. I love you, my radiant Queen,” he said.

Your heart leapt in your chest hearing those words. “Husband,” you said and crashed your lips to his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close to you. You molded your body to his so that no inch of him was not touching your body. You gasped into the kiss as you felt his dick, thick against your upper thigh. 

King Ghezo groaned and placed his hands on your hips, pulling you closer still and kissing you back. Your kisses turned bruising, crashing your lips against each other with passion. Teeth scraped against each other. Tongued dueled. His hands coasted down your body until he gripped your ass in his hands.

He groaned and began to squeeze your ass with his big, rough hands. You felt him lift your ass cheeks and you moaned into your kiss. The back of your thighs tingled. If you had hoped that this raging fire inside of you would dim over time, you were sorely mistaken. 

“Husband…” you said when there was a natural break in your kiss. 

“Yes, wife?” He asked, his voice slightly shaking and breathy. He nuzzled your cheek with his nose, planting soft kisses along your jawline. 

“Take me to bed?” 

His kisses stopped. His lips lingered on your jaw, under your ear. “Are you sure, wife?” 

“Take me to bed, husband. Please,” you said. The King leaned back and looked into your eyes. You didn’t know how else you could make it clear. If he asked you again, you may lose your nerve and rip his robes off here and now. If he ripped your robes off here and now, you would let him. 

Your mind was cloudy with no other thoughts than you were tired of waiting. You were a wife and you wanted to experience your husband. You and your friends would giggle about sex growing up, well out of earshot of your fathers.

You thought it was a trite thing between married partners. Something only done to produce a baby. You never thought that it would feel like this. Like there were bugs beneath your skin ready to burst out if you did not find relief soon. That you would yearn for such a thing. 

The King picked you up and you yelped in surprise. “Husband!” You squealed with laughter. He laughed with you but did not put you down until he reached the bottom of the slope. He went ahead of you to make sure you were safe on the jagged cliffside, avoiding rocks and slippery patches of grass. 

You followed behind, holding his hand, and trusting that he would lead you to safety. He pulled you to the top of the cliffside, stopping long enough to kiss you. You laughed in between kisses, such joy trying to crack open from your chest. 

The King pulled you into the palace, setting a pace that you barely kept up with. You had not thought that he would be so eager to take you to bed. Surely, he got it whenever he wanted from his first wife. But his excitement seemed to match yours. 

The tips of your ears burned as you passed servants who smiled politely but likely knew what was about to happen. You shouldn’t be embarrassed to go to bed with your husband. And you weren’t embarrassed to the point that you changed your mind. You wanted to do a good job and please him. You wanted to leave him satisfied and you feared that your lack of experience would make this your first and only night with him. 

What if he planted a baby inside you and never touched you again? Your heart squeezed painfully. That would break you. It would break you if your husband never touched you after tonight. 

The King found your room with ease. He opened the door and ushered you inside, closing it behind you. You took to keeping your balcony doors open because it became dreadfully stuffy otherwise. The room was perfectly breezy now, the air brushing along your damp skin from the mad dash through the palace. 

Standing in the room, the bed seemed impossibly large now. How different it was to stand here, not afraid of your husband or what you were about to do. You were terrified on your wedding night. Terrified that he would take what you were not offering. But he respected your wishes. 

Now, your wishes were to see all of him. Touch all of him. A few candles were lit and you silently thanked Mawu-Lisa for that. You were not ashamed of your body, but you liked it better that you would do this mostly in the light of the moon. 

The King brought your hand to his lips and kissed it. “I have dreamt of this many nights, wife. I will do my best. You must tell me if I’m hurting you,” he said. 

“I promise,” you told him. 

There was enough moonlight and light from the candles to point out most of his features. You saw him smile and then he pulled you closer. He dropped his head and kissed you. There was no more rush. The King was back to being sweet and tender, letting you get used to him being in your chambers. 

He walked you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed. He slowed his kisses down, pulling away from you with a small groan. “I wish to see you, wife,” he said. His gaze searched yours for permission and you nodded. 

You were so nervous, you could barely breathe at the moment. Need clawed your insides and it took all of your willpower to stand there while his hands reached for the tie at your waist. He pulled and tugged on it until the robe loosened. You took a deep breath as he peeled the side of the robe open, revealing your naked body beneath it. 

You watched his face. His eyes were on your body. Eyes wide and nose flared as he looked at your exposed flesh. He let out a soft curse. “You are absolutely gorgeous,” he whispered. 

You beamed at hearing his words. Many people had called you some variation of beautiful and it meant nothing to you. Hearing your husband say it was a treasure you locked away in your heart. You would trot it out for years and years and relive this moment until the end of your days. 

“I wish to see you husband,” you whispered back. He stepped back and opened his arms. His robe was already open, revealing that delectable chest you salivated over. You slipped the sides off of him, revealing thick arms to match his solid chest. Here, you became shy. You knew that his pants would have to come off, in fact you were licking your lips at the thought, but you’d never seen a dick before. You weren’t prepared. 

King Ghezo seemed to guess this. Maybe your face showed your fear. He stepped forward, slipping your own robes from your body and letting it pool at your feet. 

“I am going to taste you, wife. Would you like that?” The King had a strange note in his voice that you could not name. Like he was enjoying your shyness. 

“Taste me?” Did he not already taste you when he kissed you? The King only grinned and directed you to get on the bed. You did as you were told. The King’s hands grazed your ass as you wiggled onto the bed. Your skin tingled where he touched. 

He told you to flip over, so you did. You waited for him to take his pants off and climb into bed. Wasn’t that the idea? You had no clue what to expect or do or feel. The bed dipped as he climbed on, his knees sinking into the mattress as he came closer.

He sat back on his knees and grabbed your left foot. He began to massage it and you fell back against the pillow as you sighed with pleasure. “Oh,” you moaned.

“This only works if you are relaxed. I know this is new. But I will be as open as possible, eh?” He asked. 

“Okay,” you said. Your eyelids turned heavy as he put pressure on the heel of your foot, hitting a tender spot that shook you down to your bones. You melted into your bed, enjoying this. You wanted to catalog every second of this. If this would be your first and last time, you wanted the memories to keep you going. 

He switched to your right foot, giving it just as much attention. Then he worked his way up both of your legs, spreading them wider the higher he went up. Your heartbeat began to pick up, but you were so relaxed from the massage, you screamed at your body to calm down. You did truly trust your husband. 

He spread your legs and the cool air from outside hit your damp pussy. You bit your lip, looking away from him. Nothing about this should feel embarrassing and yet that’s exactly how it felt. No one had ever looked there and it made you nervous. Did he like what he saw? Was that a thing? Did it please him that you were wet for him? 

A dark light entered his gaze. He stared at the very heart of you. Your pussy clenched and unclenched around nothing, somehow growing wetter under his intense scrutiny. His fingers tightened around your knees. 

“Husband?” You asked.

“I’m trying to be gentle, but this is…proving very difficult.” His voice sounded hoarse as if he had been running for miles. 

“I am yours, husband. However you wish,” you said.

His eyes snapped to yours. “Do not tempt me,” he said with a wicked grin. Then he flattened himself on the bed, scooting in between your thighs. Your eyes rounded as he seemed to be aiming his mouth for your pussy. 

You were about to ask what he was planning to do, when his tongue swiped out and licked your pussy! “Oh!” You wailed. The sensation was completely foreign to you. You had nothing to compare it to. No basis to make you understand. 

Your pussy was warm, his tongue was warm, but the minute he retreated, the cold air swooped in and swept across your exposed core. He licked you a few times and you could not stop the avalanche of moans tumbling from your lips. It felt divine. It felt weird. It felt amazing and you did not want him to stop. 

“Are you okay, wife?” King Ghezo asked.

“Yes! Yes! Keep going!” You prayed. You prayed with all your might that you would get to experience this many times over. Your fingers played with his soft curls as he went back to licking you. His nose separated your folds as his tongue went lower, to your entrance, and he drank from you there. His slurps were loud in the chamber and you worried about the noise.

You gushed onto his face and you ought to feel some way about that, but all you felt was pleasure. There was tightening low in your belly but you ignored it in favor of feeling his wondrous tongue encircle your pussy. He groaned around you and it triggered your own groan. 

When he hit a spot that you particularly enjoyed, you yanked on his curls. You immediately loosened your grip, not wanting to hurt him. He lifted his head from your center and looked at you. “Do what you must, wife. You will not hurt me,” he said.

You giggled nervously as you saw your essence dripping down his chin. All of that came from you? 

You nodded and he returned to licking and tasting you. You moaned and dug your fingers into his curls, yanking and pulling. Your curses reached the ceiling and bounced back towards you.

The tightening got worse and worse until it almost felt like you were about to use it on yourself. You became worried that you would do just that, so you began to push at his head. His eyes flicked towards yours but he did not stop. 

He kept going, keeping his gaze trained on you while that tightening became overbearing. “Oh, my King, I–” 

A tidal wave of pleasure rolled through you and dragged you under. You moaned as that tight feeling dispersed, sending pinpricks of rapture to course through your body. You shook and jerked, your body completely out of your control. 

The King moaned as he continued to taste you through it. “Taste so good. Love tasting you,” he murmured into your pussy. Your thighs gripped his head but still he kept going, until the last shiver left you panting against your pillow. Your sweat gathered there creating a weird mix between hot and cold from the open balcony. 

“What..was that?” You asked.

“Climax,” he said.

“Climax?” You asked, rolling the word around your tongue. 

“It’s what people do when they experience great pleasure.” 

“So you will do it too?” You asked. How did people not spend every waking moment doing this? Now that you had experienced it, you never wanted to leave this bed! 

He grinned and nodded as he ran his hand down his face, wiping away your arousal. He climbed up your body, planting kisses here or there to your tummy, until he reached your breasts. 

“Are you alright, wife?” The King asked.

“Yes, husband,” you whispered. You couldn’t look at him. You were too full of love and basking in that wave of bliss. He chuckled as he kissed your belly.

“I’m going to kiss your breasts. Would you like that?” He asked.

“Yes!” You wanted to experience it all. You wanted all of it. Your hands caressed his thick arms, feeling his muscles bunch under your wandering hands. The King grinned and his mouth latched onto your nipple, suckling it into his mouth.

“Oh! Ouee,” you moaned. You had no idea that they could be so sensitive. When your cycle came, you only knew that they grew heavy and sometimes painful. But sensitive during this was fascinating to you as he rolled your nipple around his mouth. You watched the total concentration on his face. 

Your hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck while he switched his attention to your other nipple. Your hip jerked violently and your pussy clenched, feeling strangely empty. In theory, you knew what sex was. Your mother had that particular talk with you. You knew that he would stick his dick in there but after everything else, you weren’t sure you could handle that. But you wanted to try. 

The King kissed his way up your chest, kissed your neck, and then moved upwards to kiss your lips. You tasted and smelled yourself on him and it caused you to moan. You liked marking him in such a way. That it was your essence on his lips. That you belonged to him as only a wife could to her husband. 

“I am going to enter you now, wife. I will go slow, but be patient with me.” You nodded. You had no clue what he was on about but you enjoyed everything else. You were sure you would enjoy that too. 

King Ghezo scooted back and got off the bed. You missed the heat of his body instantly. The cold breeze from outside ran over your body and you shivered. The King smirked at you while his hands went to the waistband of his trousers. He lowered them off of his hips and your eyes watched his every movement.

The pants slipped down and exposed him and your jaw dropped open. His dick was huge, wide, with a defining mushroom head that your eyes zeroed in on. There was no way that would fit inside of you. Absolutely none! 

He palmed his length, rubbing his hand up and down. “Like what you see?” 

“You are…big,” you asked. Not that you had anything to compare it to. Surely, this was above average? Maybe this was why no one did this fifty times a day. If women were getting split in half by the likes of that, they wouldn’t be able to get any chores done! Ever. 

The King chuckled as he climbed back onto the bed. He laid next to you. “Would you like to touch it?” 

“I won’t hurt you?” You asked. 

The King grinned and shook his head. You knew you were being painfully stupid, asking these questions and acting like a skittish animal. How could you not? Why did no one prepare you for this shit? 

If you ever had a daughter, you would absolutely prepare her for this by detailing exactly what happened. No matter how awkward and painful it may be for the both of you, you would not send your daughter out into marriage without giving her some notion. 

You reached out your hand and wrapped your fingers around his length. You gasped. “You’re so soft!” Yet hard at the same time? The skin was smooth to the touch, with faint veins on the side. Yet his dick was also hard, unyielding. What would it feel like inside of you? 

The King began to kiss you while you stroked him. He groaned and moved his hips while you became bolder, gripping onto him harder, and loving the way he responded. He moved on top of you and gently moved your hand away from him. 

He gripped his dick and ran it through your folds, coating himself with your arousal. The tips of your ears burned but it felt good and you found yourself sinking down into a more prone position. 

He placed his dick at your entrance and took a deep breath. He looked into your eyes as he began to slide in. Your mouth dropped open as he stretched you. It both hurt and felt good as he worked his way in. 

“Wait!” The King paused. He wasn’t even partially in but it felt like was stabbing you with a knife. 

“It will get better, I promise,” he said. 

You nodded and took deep breaths, but fuck! You held onto his wide shoulders as he began to move forward. He retreated until just the tip of him was at your entrance and then he dove back again, getting deeper with each stroke. Your nails dug into his skin, leaving half-moon marks in it, as the stretch was too much for you to bear.

Something wonderful began to happen, however. It hurt, yes, but you were growing accustomed to it. Your body welcomed him in, your arousal helping the slide of him. He was about halfway in, getting deeper and deeper. He hit a particular spot and you screamed, slapping at his shoulder.

“Shh, shh, you have to relax.” He kissed you, trying to take your mind off of the splitting pain inside of you. 

The kissing helped and he kept going. His strokes were gentle but you knew instinctively that he had to work himself inside of you. He said it would get better and you truly hoped so. 

The King’s arms shook as he held himself on top of you, mindful to not put all of his weight on you. “Are you okay, husband?” You asked.

He huffed a laugh. “I should be asking you. You feel so good. So tight,” he whispered. 

You whimpered as he finally bottomed out, fully seated inside of you. He lay still, kissing your jaw, your lips, your cheek. Any area he could reach with his lips. Sweat gathered on his brow and you kissed his forehead when he dropped his eyes to look at where you were joined.

You followed his gaze. Somehow that giant thing between his legs fit inside of you. “I’m going to move now,” he said.

He moved out of you and then slowly pushed back in. This time, it wasn’t as painful. The more he did it, true to his word, the more it started to feel good. Really good. 

The mushroom head of his dick glided along your inner walls. It dragged ragged moans from you and King Ghezo dropped his head. “Fuck,” he groaned. 

His hips snapped as he increased his strokes. “Oue, oue, more, more,” you begged. You didn’t know what you meant, but he seemed to. He snapped his hips faster. He lifted one of your legs to straddle his hip. It opened you further and you moaned as he sank even deeper inside of you. You felt his dick twitching.

Your belly tightened and you knew now that it was a climax. He stroked long and deep, pulling inhuman moans from you. 

“Come on, wife. Come on,” he cheered.

You turned watery eyes to him as the climax finally washed over you. It burrowed into your bones, turning your insides to jelly, and melting you from the inside out. Your body was out of your control, your mind blissfully empty as you focused on nothing but the pleasure in your veins and the way he looked at you. Devoted. Cherished.

He moaned low and deep in his throat before something warm coated your insides. His dick pulsed as he snapped his hips as far forward as possible. He was completely buried inside of you as that warm, squishy feeling filled you to the brim. You felt incredibly stuffed. 

Was that his climax? You were too nervous to ask. It was a strange sensation but you loved the feeling of him moving inside of you. He groaned and dropped to the left of you. He kissed your shoulder.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He asked. You shook your head. Your body trembled as you recovered from your climax. The King grinned sloppily and kissed you gently. He pressed his lips to yours and lingered.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you,” you responded. 

He began to soften inside of you. Wait, so that wasn’t how he was normally?! You felt stupid. There was so much you didn’t know. And who did you have to ask? Absolutely no one. 

He pulled out of you and something slipped out right after him. Did you make a mess of yourself? You leaned up on your elbows and looked at your pussy. A white, creamy substance leaked out of you. Your eyes widened. That must have come from him.

You ran your fingers through it and it was silky and sticky. You looked at the King who watched your curiosity like it greatly pleased him. He rubbed your belly. 

“Are you truly alright, wife?” He asked.

You nodded. “Will we do that again?” You asked. You flipped onto your side and faced him. He matched you and rested his head on his hand. 

“As many times as you wish,” he said with a grin. 

You opened your mouth, ready to say something, but a yawn escaped you. The King chuckled and caressed your cheek.

“Thank you. That was…everything,” he whispered. He pulled you closer for a kiss. “Let’s sleep,” he said. 

He rolled you over onto your other side, facing away from the balcony. He wrapped his arms around you, one arm going under your head and the other around your middle. He scooted closer to your back, pressing the length of him along yours. His dick nestled into your ass and you wiggled.

His hand flexed on your hip. “Careful. Before I flip you back over.” His voice was gruff. His breath fanned across your ear and neck. You giggled and kissed his arm. 

You would get good at this sex thing. You would make sure that he continued to feel good when he was with you so that you could do that all the time. You snuggled into the oppressive heat of his body and drifted off to sleep. 

In the morning, you awoke to a cold bed. You leaned up, your bleary eyes scanning the room for the King. It made sense if he had to go back to his own room. A part of you wish he had stayed. 

As if she were connected to you, your servant entered the room carrying a green dress in her hands.

“Good morning, my Queen. The King has requested you join him in the council room.” 

“No breakfast?” You asked.

“It will be served after,” she said.

You nodded. You couldn’t fathom what the King would want before breakfast. It was unusual to have a council meeting this early. Maybe the Oyo have grown bolder and require more diligence in dealing with them. 

There was only one way to find out. You got up from the bed but you were deliciously sore. Your heart was light, airy, filled with so much love you wanted to cry. His spend had dried between your legs so your servant handed you a wet cloth and you cleaned yourself up.

She helped you dress and fixed your hair into something presentable. You couldn’t stop grinning and giggling. You were a bit worried about this meeting. You hoped it wasn’t something mortifying. Like the King announcing that you had sex and was hoping for another baby soon. 

Feeling and looking good, you left your room and headed to the council room. You were beyond to see your husband. You were the last to arrive. The King smiled when you entered. He, Nanisca, the first wife, and members of his council were standing in a circle with their backs to you. 

Nansica was the closest to you. She turned around and bobbed her head. You nodded back towards her. The King held out his hand.

“Wife, come meet Sade.” 

Your throat dried instantly as the King stepped aside and a lovely woman, with long braids stood beside the King. She had deep ebony skin, low cheekbones, and small features. She looked like a doll standing next to him. 

Your smile froze on your face as you looked from the King to Sade. Your steps turned wooden as your stomach hollowed out. You stopped a few feet from them both. 

“We will be married before the week is out as a union between our kingdom and her father’s,” The King said. 

Your stomach roiled with acid. You knew this day would come. You knew that you could not possibly be the last of his wives. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you managed to say around the dry lump in your throat. Tears gathered in your eyes but you blinked them away. You would not cry and snivel like a little girl. No matter how much your world was crashing down around your ears. No matter that your heart beat painfully against your rib cage. You wished to carve it out and throw it away. 

You touched your hand to your chest, shocked not to find blood there already. A stab wound would hurt less. 

The past few weeks had taught you to lower your defenses and enjoy your newfound freedoms. Had you truly been free? The armor you donned every morning to survive your weak father and ineffective mother and their childish marriage schemes was not needed here. Or so you thought. You pulled on your resolve. You pulled on every ounce of strength you had to look that woman in the eyes.

It was not her fault that she was traded to the King for an alliance. It was always done that way. You looked at her and only saw yourself. In another life, you would have been from a rival kingdom. Sold to a different land with different customs, food, dress, and manner of speaking. Outcast and foreign and you would have looked as she looked. Confused, relieved with such a handsome king, and yet desperately seeking someone to understand and reach out a hand.

You had no hands to give. You hated her instantly at that moment. Your rival. Was this how the first wife felt? You looked to her and she only smiled at you and the King and Sade. How could she stomach this shit? 

You looked towards the King. He watched you, a slight furrow in his brow. How could he do this right after the night you spent together? After confessing your love for each other? Would he enter her bedroom on their wedding night and plant a baby so easily inside of her? Or would he wait as he did for you, coaxing you into bed, just so he could leave for the next one? 

Your body shook without your permission. You trembled with rage and you hated showing even that much. You placed your hand against your belly as you flushed with heat. If you pressed hard enough, this terrible dream would end. You would wake up in the circle of his arms and laugh this dream away. 

“Are you alright?” The King asked.

“I’m going to be sick.” You fled from the room. Fled from the circle of people who welcomed this new bride into your lives. Fled from the stupid, childish notion that he would have stopped with you. That it would have just been you and the silent wife.

You wanted to laugh. You pitied the first wife when you got here. You felt sorry for her that she had to watch you come along, kissing at breakfast like lovesick fools. Now you were asked to do the same. To share the love of your life with another. Someone newer, younger, daintier. You had wished for him to find someone more wifely. Ha! Who was more wifely than someone likely raised with the knowledge that she would be given away for a political alliance? 

She was likely raised and taught to speak well, think well, with knowledge of subjects you could only dream of. She likely knew how to run a household, to help ease the burdens of her husband. As a wife to a King? She probably already had knowledge on how to please him. How to make him laugh. 

She was completely refined and you were no more than a common village girl who no one wanted. Tears finally streamed down your cheeks as you rushed down the hallways. The pale color of the walls only served to make you sicker, weaker. You ran to your room, slamming the door behind you. You locked it and then ran to your balcony. 

You could only see part of the lands from here. The view before you was mostly jungle. You folded your arms around your stomach, trying to keep your insides intact. Trying to keep your emotions in check. You quaked with unreleased grief.

You survived your childhood. You survived your hateful father. You survived disgusting people with wandering hands and twisted words. You would survive this too. It hurt like hell, but you would survive this.

You were not weak. You were not small. You were not so dumb as to believe that you would have ever mattered to anyone but yourself. You were born alone and you would die alone. And that would have to suffice.

The Secret King Ghezo Files | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5

[blackexcellence]

#BlackHistory365 Art Round-Up ⬇️

Elsa Soares via @rodrigoincolors

"This is Elsa Soares. She's one of the biggest names in Brazilian music and considered a matriarch of Brazilian black artistry. BBC named her the voice of the millenium and she was one of the most important and loudest voice against racism, LGBTQIA+ and women rights, among other social causes. She's died yesterday at age 91. This is a very simple, but sincere tribute to her. May you rest in power!

Please, listen to her music and search more about this great woman."

2. Portrait of Sarah Forbes Bonetta by Hannah Uzor via @fyblackwomenart

Portrait of   Sarah Forbes Bonetta by  Hannah Uzor

Sarah Forbes Bonetta  was an Egbado princess of the Yoruba people in West Africa who was orphaned during a war with the nearby Kingdom of Dahomey and later became the slave of King Ghezo of Dahomey. In a remarkable twist of events, she was liberated from slavery by Captain Frederick E. Forbes of the British Royal Navy and became a goddaughter to Queen Victoria. She was married to Captain James Pinson Labulo Davies, a wealthy Lagos philanthropist.

3. Marian Anderson by @novva

I’ve always wanted to do a series on black classical singers for BHM, so here’s a sketch I squeezed in this week—a tribute to the great Marian Anderson!

Marian Anderson (February 27, 1897 – April 8, 1993) was an African-American opera singer and contralto. In 1939, after the Daughters of the American Revolution refused to allow Anderson to sing to an integrated audience in Washington, D.C, then First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt and her husband President Franklin D. Roosevelt arranged for Anderson to perform an open-air concert on the Lincoln Memorial steps on Easter Sunday, April 9, 1939. She was able to deliver a critically acclaimed performance before an integrated crowd of more than 75,000 people, and a radio audience in the millions.

Read more about her accomplishments here, and donate to the National Marian Anderson Museum here.

Remember: tag your history & trailblazers art with #BlackExcellence365 for a chance to be featured!

And keep your eyes out for next month's theme... 👀

[megamindsecretlair]

This is the way! 🙌🏽😩 cant wait for that to drop. Thanks for the tag 😚

WIP Last Line

"If you smiled any wider, you'd split your face in two. You stood there like a goat on the pasture ready to be bought and chopped up. King Ghezo encircled you, perusing your body. You were tense. Near trembling. Hating every second of this. You were trading one prison for another."

Little sumn sumn I couldnt get out of my head tonight.

No pressure tags: @notapradagurl7 @umber-cinders @saturn-rings-writes @soft-persephone

WIP Last Line

I was tagged by the ever lovely @trulybetty who’s pending Tim Rockford fic will have us even more hot and bothered then we already are for him. 🥵

My lines from my WIP are from an idea I had about Din Djarin in the wee hours of the morning. I started writing and ended on this: 🤓

Watching you hesitate, the hunter taps his right thigh and holds your hands, placing them on his shoulders. “Use my armor to show me the sounds you are capable of sard’ika. I chose you for your plush body. Do not delay, no credits if I am not satisfied.” His tone is stern with a hint of desperation. He’s close to having you in the first position he wants.

I fell in the Din-bin and am making a small nook in there. 😎

No pressure tags: @goodwithcheese @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fhatbhabie @beabliss @maggiemayhemnj @perotovar @laurfilijames @musings-of-a-rose @rhoorl @mandoisapunk @iamasaddie @megamindsecretlair @morallyinept @pamasaur @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

[droopycoquette]

Leave Your Mark || Izogie x black!reader

Summary: After witnessing you and the Europeans together, Izogie feels she needs to make her claim on you more known. 

Warnings: established relationship, smut, oral(r!receiving), possessive!izogie, fluff, black!reader, fem!reader, top!Izogie, soft!dom!Izogie

Word count: 3.5k

A/n: Ya’ll I found asmr that sounds exactly like Lashana Lynch (๑>ᴗ<๑) Link

|*|

Your breathing was steady as you stood behind the king’s throne, greeting his guests. Your eyes contained a small glow, the only hint of your emotions. Excitement to see the trial of the young Agojie trainees tickled your skin as your face stayed in an inviting yet regal look. 

“Your Portuguese is perfect, my king,” the man in front of you gleamed, the look of a snake in his eyes. 

“Yes, well,” Ghezo started, motioning to you. “This lovely woman has been of great use to me, her Portuguese is perfect and she is an excellent teacher.”

At that, you bowed your head to him, your heart warmed at his words. As your head rose back up Ghezo nodded his head, a sign he was dismissing you. Your chest thumped at the event that was to take place in a couple of minutes. Your desire to see your love entering your bloodstream through your veins. You rushed to where Ghezo’s wives were sitting, your skirts rustling under you as you sat next to Shante. Quickly, the wives began to talk to you, asking what the King and the two European men were talking about, giggling at the newest palace gossip. 

“Did you know that Kiri, that maid I was telling you about,” Shante began. “Well, she and one of the infantrymen were caught together in the kitchen, and he’s married.”

You gasped, leaning in as she did. 

“And that’s not all, turns out she was also sleeping with the man’s wife,” she giggled. 

You began to giggle at that as well, the rest of the women laughing at Shante’s story, throwing in bits of extra information. Your worry for the trial spiked when you looked at the course they would be running, shivering as you gazed at the long thorns. You cringed at the thought of them and how deep they would puncture the skin. The heat would not help the trainees either. 

“Let us begin,” Ghezo commanded, silencing everyone. 

Your lips stayed still as the great doors opened, dust flying as the Agojie entered. You fought a small smile as you watched Izogie lead the trainees, a battle that you lost quickly as a small grin kissed your lips at the sheen of gloss covering her skin, her ankles wrapped in shells and leather, her face stern and unbending. The same pieces of leather jewelry could be found on her biceps as well, fighting against the muscles as she moved. 

“I’m beginning to think you like her more than you let on,” Shante smirked, her gaze fixed on the trainees. 

“What? Who,” you asked, your interest peaked. 

“Izogie.”

At that your face dropped into a glare, eyebrows furrowing and lips piercing. You kissed your teeth as your point of focus shifted to the trainees. 

“You’re just looking for drama,” you stated, eyes rolling before falling on the commander encouraging the young girls.

The beautiful, muscular woman moved towards you, making you scrunch your skirts up in anticipation. Her thighs flexed as she moved towards you, her bare feet kicking up dust and small pebbles. Her beauty never ceased to amaze you.

“Sure,” Shante muttered. 

You paid her no mind as Izogie turned around and stood at attention, giving you a full view of her back muscles. Her arm could be found in the small of her back while her other one grasped the handle of her blade. As the gun sounded, her arms flexed in reaction, clenching her sword. 

Your attention was broken as the girls screamed in pain, blood seeping through their white tunics. You cringed at their suffering. Watching as some broke free, you felt Shante grab onto you and you gripped back, gritting your teeth at the thorns in the young trainees’ foot. The trial was over in minutes, Nawi claiming victory. As the girl clamored over to the King, Shante shook you in delight at the victory making you giggle. As you looked at the victor, you felt someone’s gaze on you.

Izogie couldn’t help but stare. You’re beauty sparking bursts of joy in her chest. Your garments hugged your body and your jewelry framed your face perfectly. Izogie didn’t know much about dressing, but she did know that you were good at it. Your outfit was proof. She sucked in a breath as your smile came into view, your hair catching the breeze as a couple of strands hit your face. Izogie’s thumb brushed your initials on the handle of her blade, remembering when you smiled as you gave the sword to her. 

“Now, I’ll always be with you when you go into battle,” you had smiled, your muscles straining to hold the heavy object.

Izogie wished to smile as the memory entered her head, but all she could do was bite her tongue and wait till you both were alone. 

|*|

You sighed as the back of your head hit the ledge of the communal bath, your hair tied up in a bun so as not to get wet. The water kissed your skin sweetly, washing away the sweat and dirt the day had brought you. The temperature of the water contrasted with the heat of the day so perfectly causing you to close your eyes and let your mind go blank. The world behind your eyelids went black as you breathed in through your nose and out through your mouth.

Suddenly, footsteps could be heard right by your head, making you snap your eyes open. 

“Someone’s comfortable,” Izogie smirked, standing right over you. 

“My love,” you giggled, turning around to face her. 

Your eyes never left her as she sat on the ledge, her feet dangling in the water. Her white attire for the ceremony had changed to loose garments, one of a citizen of Dahomey. She looked relaxed. A sight very rare, even for you. 

“Come,” she smiled softly, her raspy voice caressing your ear. “Lay your head.”

You quickly complied, your back facing her and your head resting on her perfectly, pillowy thighs. Feeling the skin dip at the weight of your head and the smooth texture on your cheek. She smelled of incense and palm oil. You found comfort in her scent and began turning your nose closer to her thigh, nuzzling the muscly flesh. 

Her hands worked to undo your bun, her fingers expertly navigating your curls. 

“Are you enjoying your time with the two white men,” Izogie asked, her fingers finding your scalp. 

“Malik is mmh,” you moaned, making Izogie chuckle. “Malik is half white. His mother was Dahomey. And it’s-”

Your voice faded out and your eyes close again as you felt her nails digging into your spots, Iogie knew your body so well, she could navigate every inch with her eyes closed.

“You’re amazing,” you breathed. “Have I ever told you I love your nails?”

She began to lightly pull on your hair, tugging only enough to give a nice sensation, not to hurt. 

“Only 3 times a day,” she smiled down at you. 

Your eyes opened and watched as the warrior concentrated on your head massage. Her eyebrows furrowed and her tongue poked out of her mouth slightly, glossing over her top lip. Your attention drifted to her shoulder, where you patched up a stab wound caused by a competition. She smiled proudly that day. 

“When it heals,” she began. “It will be another scar you can kiss.”

“What are you smiling at,” Izogie whispered. 

“You,” you whispered back, your eyes gazing into hers dreamily. 

Izogie stopped breathing, her lips parting slightly and her eyes wide in shock. 

“You didn’t finish what you were saying earlier,” she coughed in an attempt to divert attention from herself. 

“About the white men you mean,” you giggled. 

She let out a small ‘mmhm,’ but refused to look at you. 

“It’s going fine,” you breathed, allowing her to calm down. “Speaking Portuguese has made me a great asset to the king.”

“I can see that,” she agreed, chuckling.

You both were silent after, enjoying the feeling of love and contentment as they swirled around your figures. Your hands came up underneath the commander’s calves as you caressed them, feeling them tighten up at your touch before relaxing. The sound of the water drops dripping from your hand filled your ears. 

“I miss you watching me during sparring sessions,” Izogie sulked. 

“I miss watching you,” you chuckled lovingly, eyes closing.

Izogie reached down to the top of your arm and guided it out of the water, her finger trailing to your hands, before bringing it to her lips. Causing a jolt of electricity to erupt from your abdomen

“And what should we do about that, my princess,” she rasped. 

“Ah, essa mulher,” you moaned, enjoying the pillowy feeling of her lips. Ah, this woman. 

“Oh,” Izogie smirked. “I think I have a couple ideas now.”

You felt her lean down as her breath kissed the cusps of your ear. 

“Portuguese, my love, really? You know what that language does to my body.”

You turned around and placed your crossed arms on her lap, before gazing at her through your eyelashes. 

“That was the idea,” you teased, an innocent look in your eye. 

“Leave.”

Both your heads snapped to the source of the sound coming from the entrance. Nanisca. 

“We just were Meganon,” Izogie sighed quickly standing before lending you a hand. 

“Hello Nanisca,” you greeted as you felt Izogie’s arms around you, helping you out of the pool.

The general only gave you a small head nod, the look of exhaustion telling you that that was the extent of her socialization capabilities. 

“Come on, my love,” Izogie whispered to you. 

You walked out of the bath as quickly as possible, the crisp night air hitting your wet skin, causing you to erupt in goosebumps. Izogie quickly wrapped her arms around you from behind, kissing your shoulder before placing her head on it. 

“Someone’s comfortable,” you mocked. 

“Hush,” she groaned, causing you to laugh. 

You enjoyed the feeling of her weight on you, leaning your head on hers. 

“You know,” Izogie began softly. “I watched you today, with Shante.”

“You were,” you responded, a light air of shock in your voice. 

Izogie’s arms adjusted as she tightened her grip on your waist. 

“I was. And you looked beautiful. All I could think about was the fact that you’re mine. Everyone couldn’t stop staring at you,” she breathed, placing light kisses on the side of your neck. “ I wanted to take you right there, in front of everyone,” 

At her words the electricity came back, jumping between your abdomen and your inner thighs. Izogie noted the change in your breath and how your hands came to cover hers.

“Especially in front of those Europeans. I bet they couldn’t dream of a woman’s lips on another’s,” Izogie allowed one of her hands to wander up to your breasts and the other down to your heat. “Couldn’t imagine a woman’s tongue deep inside the juices of her lover.” 

Her teeth sank into your nape, forcing a small gasp to leave your lips. 

“Izogie plea-” you began before a shriek took over. 

You often forgot how fast Izogie could be, in a matter of seconds she had you thrown over her shoulder, a sharp snap resounding in the air as her hand came into contact with your backside. Her shoulder’s flexed at the new weight but paid no mind as she kept her quick pace, casually walking back to your shared room. Truly it was your room, but somehow Izogie managed to convince the king that you need overnight protection, allowing her to stay with you. 

Izogie smirked as you unknowingly wiggled your hips, searching for the pleasure only she could give you. She gave you another hit, this one a little more painful than the last. 

“Izogie,” you shrieked at the contact. 

The warrior stayed silent as she entered your quarters hidden behind a curtain of silks and linen. Setting you onto the floor and stripping you in no time at all. 

“Wouldn’t want your bed to get wet, now would we,” she breathed, before forcefully kissing you. 

One of her hands caressed your face, her thumb brushing the apple of your cheek while the other, slipped to your hip, forcing you closer. Her tongue lapped at your lips before twirling around yours, saliva and breath mixing. 

“You’re mine,” she groaned. “Yes?”

“Yes,” you gasped, gaze flitting from her lips to her eyes. “Always.”

“Go lay down, princess.”

You moved to obey her immediately, laying down on your padded mat, leaning against your pillows, and spreading your legs. You shivered as your hands came under your knees and held them open, putting yourself on display. Izogie unwrapped her clothes as she kept eye contact with you, walking towards you slowly. Your hooded eyes never failed to make her tingle. 

“I’ve thought about these all day,” she sighed, kneeling down and brushing her fingers against your thighs. 

Your skin buzzed at her touch, the feeling of her burns tickling your skin making you lean into her. 

“Thought about this all day,” she moaned as she dragged two fingers through your slit. “You want me. Don’t you?”

“More than anything. Please,” you begged, your eyes glossing over. 

Izogie cooed at that, she could never say no to you. No matter how harsh she seemed, she belonged to you. She was wrapped around your finger and you were wrapped around hers. Her eyes stayed on you as she moved down to your core, cooing at the way your body rolled against her. 

“Stay still, my love,” Izogie chastised. 

You whined at her command but obeyed nonetheless, wanting nothing more than to feel her lips on you. Izogie continued to tease you, the sharp of her nail softly running up and down your inner thigh, tickling and arousing you at the same time. 

“Please, Izogie,” you whimpered. “Please.”

Her nose nuzzled at your thighs, enjoying their softness, the way they would jiggle when she slapped them. 

“You want my tongue,” she rasped, her hand coming up to flick your nipple. 

“Yes,” you gasped at the stimulation. “Yes, please.”

Izogie dragged the sharp of her nail down your torso, watching as you arched your back into her. A smile graced her face as you gasped when she nibbled at your inner thigh, the soft skin of her arm rubbed against your thigh while she held them close, arms flexing to keep you in place. 

Small whines left your lips as Izogie kissed anywhere but where you wanted her, your calves, your stomach, right above your clit, but never your heat. 

“Come on pretty girl,” she smirked. “Make some noise for me.”

Her tongue felt heavenly as it finally grazed your sensitive nub, the ridges of her tastebuds making your thighs clench and your stomach shake. Your juices licked at her chin as her tongue entered you, lapping at your heat. Her eyes closed as her senses were filled with you, the love she had for you overflowing. The room began to get humid as your bodies rolled against each other. The candles flickering around you, mirroring the feeling in your core. 

Her name left your lips repeatedly causing her to smile against you, her ego being stroked by your every sound and move. Your eyes drifted down to her, her head buried in your core, her back rippling as she flexed and relaxed, keeping you in place as you writhed against her. The sight of her muscles heightened your pleasure, the knowledge of her strength and her ability to break you making you high. 

“So sweet,” she whispered. “Have you thought about this too? Wanting me to taste you and pleasure you.”

You answered with gasps and whines, the desire to kiss her overriding your system. 

“Izogie, please,” you babbled. “Kiss m- ahh!”

“Can’t even string together a sentence,” she teased. “Want do you want princess? Hmm?”

Your look of desperation made her moan into you, her body rolling against the mat. Her eyes were set on you, your eyes rolled back and your mouth permanently open. It was enough to make her cum right there. 

“Kiss me,” you whimpered, looking at her through dazed eyes. 

She couldn’t deny you even if she wanted to. Her body covered yours, her fingers staying between your legs. Your veins were flooded with ice and fire, your stomach quivering at the feeling. The pads of her fingers pressed deeply onto your clit, careful not to scratch you with her nails. Her lips made contact with your skin first, starting at where your shoulders connected with your neck. The softness of her lips strengthening your desire to kiss her. 

“Izogie, I want your lips,” you shuttered. “Don’t you think you’ve teased me eno-ahh.”

A shock wave rolled through you, not as powerful as an orgasm but still strong. 

“Ooh,” Izogie notices. “You feel that? Is my princess close? Gonna give me your cum, yeah?”

Izogie hovered over your face, centimeters away from your lips. You watched as Izogie's lips broke into a soft smile, looking at you with awe. 

“I’m so glad you’re mine,” she whispers, fingers still on your clit.

She kissed you deeply, finally granting your desire. She was heaven incarnate. Everything you’ve ever wished for. Her tongue stroked yours and as oxygen left your lungs, your brain overheated and froze at the same time, toes curling, and thighs clenching around her. Your fingertips dripped euphoria and your tongue tasted of Izogie. 

“That’s it, my love. It’s okay,” she praised. “I want to taste your cum. Will you let me?”

The crescendo of your moans were answer enough for her. She quickly brought her mouth back to her heat, the urgency in her movement contrasting with the smirk on her face. Her tongue rolled around on your clit and her arms began to flex against your thighs.

Like a slow tide, your orgasm continued to cover you, spreading slowly from your core to your chest and out through your limbs. Izogie’s face pressed against you forcefully, her arms bulging with a need to keep you close. The taste of you driving her to want you even more. Her grunts and whimpers caused your fingers to twitch as you came down from the potent high, stomach quivering and eyes shut. 

“How I’ve missed you so,” she whispered as she finally allowed herself to breathe. Her eyes filled with stars while her lips glistened with your essence. 

A thin sheen of sweat had covered both of you giving your skin a glossed look. The candlelight reflected off Izogie’s skin beautifully as she rose up from her stomach and onto her knees. 

“You should stay with me,” you began. “Instead of leaving to these battles.”

“My love, not right now. Let’s enjoy this,” she begged. 

You relented and relaxed into the pillows, your tired eyes gazing at Izogie’s perfect frame as if sculpted by Liza herself. The scars she wore proudly cast shadows on her dark skin and you itched to touch them. You reached for her hands and clasped them together, the texture of your palms bringing a smile to Izogie’s face. Your eyes watched as her gaze trailed down your body before falling on your thighs, her face morphing to one of worry.

“What? What’s wrong, my sweet,” you rasped a sleepy sheen continuing to cloud your eyes. 

“Look.”

You dropped your gaze from her to your thighs and saw what she was worried about. Her nails had left scratches, some deep enough to bleed. You knew that there would be scars later, your heart even jumped at the thought. 

“I’m so sorry my love,” she whispered, leaning back down to kiss the wounds. 

“Izogie, my dear warrior, please look at me.”

She didn’t. Her eyes still on your thighs as she kissed them, switching between the right and the left with no pattern. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

Your ears were filled with apologies while your fingers itched with the desire to bring her face back up to you. However, you knew that once Izogie started something it was best not to get in her way, it was a fight you would lose. So you let her kiss you until she was satisfied. 

“I like them,” you stated as she continued to kiss your thighs. “I think they’re beautiful.”

“Stop trying to make me feel better.”

“It’s true. I’ve never lied to you.”

Izogie paused, her dark eyes softening but still looking at you with worry. 

“I’m more hurt by the fact that you haven’t kissed me yet," you quipped.

A light chuckle left Izogie’s lips as her worried face turned to one of disbelief. You smiled back at her lazily, your arms coming up behind you to stretch. 

“I suppose now you have scars that I can kiss,” Izogie commented, a smile on her face as she lightly traced over the new marks. 

“I also have lips you can kiss,” you huffed, pulling on her arm. 

Izogie’s lips quirked into a smirk as she covered your body with her own. You brought your arms up to wrap around her neck. 

“Kiss me, warrior.”

|*|

a/n: please leave any feedback

[henneseyhoe]

CONCEPT: King Ghezo and how he is with all 12 of his wives based off of their zodiac signs 🫣

[lboogie1906]

Queen Hangbe (or Hangbè, Ahangbe, or Na Hangbe) was a woman who served as the regent of the Kingdom of Dahomey for a brief period before Agaja came to power in 1718. According to oral tradition, she became regent upon the sudden death of King Akaba because his oldest son, Agbo Sassa, was not yet of age. She supported Agbo Sassa in a succession struggle against Agaja, who became king. Her legacy lives on in oral tradition, but little is known about her rule because it was erased from official history. It is possible that her gender contributed to her rule being erased from official history.

She was born to Houegbadja as the twin sister of Akaba. The twins had a younger brother named Dosu, who took the name Agaja, which is the traditional name given to the first son born after the twins. Akaba became the King of Dahomey around 1685 and she became an important part of the royal family as the oldest sister of Akaba.

Oral histories agree that Akaba died while engaged in military combat in the Ouémé River valley, but the histories disagree about the cause of death whether in battle, poisoned, or smallpox. Between 1716 and 1718, she continued the warfare started by Akaba in the Ouémé River valley and may have led additional military expeditions. Her rule is considered to have lasted either three months or three years.

In 1718, she supported the rule of Agbo Sassa, the oldest son of Akaba, to the throne of Dahomey. Her younger brother contested this rule and this caused a significant succession struggle between Agbo Sassa and Dosu. She and her family remained in Abomey and, under King Ghezo in the early 1800s.

Her descendants live to the current day in a compound next to the Royal Palaces of Abomey and have an oral tradition that lists seven descendants acting as head of the Hangbe lineage under the title of Queen Hangbe. It is stated that she was the main person responsible for the creation of the Dahomey Amazons, a military unit composed of women. She is not included in any of the court king lists for the Kingdom of Dahomey due to a particularly thorough case of damnatio memoriae. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[mias-playground]

Sara Forbes Bonetta (born Aina or Ina c1843–1880), was ward and goddaughter of Queen Victoria. She was believed to have been a titled member of the Egbado clan of the Yoruba people in West Africa, who was orphaned during a war with the nearby Kingdom of Dahomey as a child, and was later enslaved by King Ghezo of Dahomey. She was given as a 'gift' to Captain Frederick E. Forbes of the British Royal Navy and became a goddaughter of Queen Victoria. She married Captain James Pinson Labulo Davies, a wealthy Lagos philanthropist. Wikipedia

[melaninpov]

John Boyega as King Ghezo

The Woman King