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macabr3-barbi3 · 5 months ago

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New Love, New Skin (Chapter 4)

Roller skating shenanigans, Vincent's past, and an unwelcome bird (I hope you like even more backstory!)

Tags: roller skating, gender stereotypes, bitchass bird, morning sex lol PS another thank you to @fraugwinska for the banner and for being my #1 hype woman, ily <3

Chapter 1 📺 Chapter 2 💛 Chapter 3 📺 Chapter 4 💛 Chapter 5

June 1959

Despite how much he wants to- needs to, really- Vincent doesn’t ask anything about Gideon past that first time, when Kora had her nightmare.

It eats at his mind though- that the guy had been such a piece of shit, taking advantage of Kora’s kindness and good heart, had still gotten to marry her, took away any chance of a life of her own for his own agenda, and she still kept his photo on her nightstand like a tiny shrine. He didn’t deserve that; Vincent would burn the damn thing if he thought he could get away with it, but the thought of Kora turning those sad puppy eyes on him always stops him from reaching for it, from letting the force of his frustration crack the glass that covered that smug fucker’s face.

He found solace in the form of bringing Kora down to the station to get a proper photo with her, arm slung around her shoulder and her hand on his chest. Richard- now one of Vincent’s biggest fans and supporters at his job- had been more than happy to lend one of the stations newspaper photographers for the job while they gave Kora a tour, and when the photo came back to them fully developed Kora had squealed with delight, framing it and putting it on display in their living room. Sometimes when he came out of the bedroom he would see her looking at it with an affectionate smile, and that was more than worth the picture of that bat bitch on her side table.

Richard had also been advocating with the management team for Vincent to have a more involved role at the station- he was shifted to the evening news production team to work with Rich directly, not on screen with him (yet) but behind the scenes in compiling his notes, working on scripts for the teleprompters, visual checks on the recording equipment and such.

That did mean that he was around Joy Jagoff more often, an unfortunate downside, but she mostly left him alone aside from the occasionally muttered comment about dogs that Rich always reprimanded her for- he was extremely fond of Kora, asking Vincent about her constantly, asking when he was going to bring her around again.

It was harder to line their schedules up now that he was on a different shift, which was an unfortunate downside to his moving up at the station. Monday through Saturday he worked 8 to 4AM, usually coming home with just enough time to cuddle up to Kora for a bit before she got up for her daily walk.

(He had a good success rate with keeping her in bed for a quick orgasm these days- they took their time on Sundays, the only day that they had off together, but he had a special weakness for her voice all husky from the remnants of sleep and crying out his name as he gently fucked her into the mattress.)

When he gets home early Sunday morning of that week, Kora is already out- he strips and settles into bed, hoping he can coax her back under the sheets with him when she returns from her walk. There’s no coffee brewing yet- these days she usually makes a pot for herself in the mornings and then another for him just before she leaves for the diner, so he wakes up to a fresh pot and the reminder that she made things better for him. He’s not tired, not feeling the siren call of sleep yet when the front door slams open, the photos on the wall rattling with the force and Kora calling his name from the living room. He’s barely sat up before she’s flying through the door, a bundle of excitement and wagging tail launching herself onto the bed. She thankfully manages to avoid anything sensitive with her knees and elbows as she presses a few smiling kisses to his screen and neck, golden tail in the air.

“Mornin’, Goldie. What’s got you in a tizzy?” He asks her, and she grins, teeth on display when she wraps her arms around him and rolls so that he’s hovering over her- he can still feel the shifting of the sheets under her where her fluffy appendage hasn’t stopped moving.

“I ran into Eris on my walk,” she says excitedly, practically vibrating with the force of it, “and she said that Viv is having a party for her sister at the skating rink and some of her friends canceled- so since the diner is closed tonight anyway and the number of people was already paid for they said that everyone on the staff can come with! Eris won’t be there, she said she had something else going on but I think it would be cool to introduce you to everyone.”

“That could be fun,” he agrees, not wanting to tone down her excitement, but not thrilled about the prospect of his fragile screen in a place full of quickly moving bodies. “You’re sure you want me to meet all your coworkers?”

“Of course! It can’t possibly go any worse than my meeting Joy.” She flashes a grin, all snark and mischief at the memory of how pissed she had made the anchorwoman, how often Vincent came home with stories about how bitchy she was towards him now that they worked more closely together. “I think everyone will love you- and if not, there’s only so many jokes that can be made about television.” She knocks on the side of his head, running her hands down his chest before she tries to leap up from the bed again.

He wraps his arms around her middle, dragging her back down. “Hold on, doll,” he murmurs, kissing at her neck as she tries to squirm away. “C’mon, you're having fun- make it a good morning for me, too.” Kora laughs and turns into his embrace, lets him strip her bare and fling her clothing out from under the sheets before she slides under them herself to kiss and suck at his cock, heavy with arousal and need for her.

She waits until just before he’s about to orgasm to release him from her mouth and climb on top, sinking down on his length and grinding her hips, claws digging little indentations into his pecs that he’s going to savor the sting of when he showers later. Her eyes are half lidded and mischievous as she rides him, harsh pants of his name tumbling from her lips, head dropping back in pleasure.

He gets a hand back to grip at her tail like he’s learned that she likes, and he’s rewarded with a whine, low and sinful. “Come on, Kora, good girl, that’s it,” he mumbles to her, and her walls ripple around him at the praise- he loves that she likes him running his mouth when he fucks her, a mutually beneficial act that they find themselves playing out more often than not. He can’t help that she feels so fucking good he can’t keep his mouth shut, filthy words pouring from him like a spigot when she starts to clench down, when she rides him well like she was doing now. “Fucking perfect, baby, keep going-”

Kora’s voice comes out as a growl, her blue eyes glowing when she brings them back to his face. “Vin- fucking close, oh my God-” One of her delicate hands comes down between her legs to rub at her clit, the fluttering of her cunt signaling her imminent release.

He gets his feet under himself so he can buck his hips up to meet her thrusts, the hand not wrapped around her tail tangling in her hair to drag her down to meet his lips. His own orgasm is barreling towards him, but his ego won’t let him finish before she does- he was a fucking gentleman, damn it, and the day that he came before Kora would be the day he would walk naked into the street during an extermination. “Go ahead, sweetheart, come for me- you feel so fucking good-”

She tenses in his arms, hoarse cry leaving her throat when it hits her; she shudders in his embrace, the motion reflected with the rippling of her soft walls around him, and he grunts “fuck, baby, coming ” into her ear as he spills his release into her warm, wet heat.

Kora snuggles into his side long enough that his screen is dimming before she finally gets up and he drifts into sleep.

He’s been thinking and dreaming a lot about his life up top- more details about his childhood and his family and the people he had known and grown up with.

There are more memories of his father than he would have liked, and not enough of his mother with how young he was when she left. A blue collar factory worker, he had been a hard-ass on Vincent as far back as he could remember- always griping at him to do as he was told, obedience is all that anyone values; don’t show emotion, that shit is for girls and gays; don’t show weakness, there will always be someone waiting to take advantage of it; be better, be more, be worth something more than he was; don’t ever cry, don’t ever scream, don’t ever back down from a fight, be a man. His pains and hurts were ignored if they weren’t beneficial to teach him some lesson, his mother never quite able to protect him completely from that particular brand of education.

And despite it all, Vincent had wanted his attention. His recognition. His approval.

It was his motivating force behind nearly everything that he did. Once his mom walked out and it was just him and the old fuck he nearly killed himself ten times over to make him happy. He never turned down a dare or a friendly fight, resulting in more scars and bruises in his teenage years than he had known how to keep track of- including the one over his eye that reflected down here in Hell, not a matter of faulty wiring like Kora had assumed when they first met. He made sure that he was always the most charismatic person in the room, the funniest, the brightest. It got him a lot of recognition- and pussy- in college, but it never came from where he wanted it.

That didn’t stop him. He graduated and went right into news, wanting people to see him, notice him, pay attention even if it wasn’t his father. He got good ratings, he was charming and funny, he was an absolute riot at company parties; people couldn’t get enough of him.

It was never enough. He had enough sense now to know that what he was chasing couldn’t come from popularity, no matter how much of it he had had. Maybe if he had known it then things could have been different.

He had finally remembered how he had died- an exclusive interview live on the prime news slot at the new shark exhibit at a local aquarium. He was humble enough to know that it had been his own fault, that his ego hadn’t been thrilled about the attention being pulled off himself to the investor of the exhibit and his thrilling tale of how he had captured the creature, escaped their altercation with only a couple of missing fingers. Vincent had wanted to bring the eyes of the audience back onto himself, where they belonged- using the edge of the tank as a balance beam in a showy act of charisma had seemed a great idea until he had slipped and tumbled into the water, dragging the microphone and the wiring it was attached to into the tank with him.

Honestly, he figured he had gotten off pretty easy- if the electrocution hadn’t killed the shark along with him, he would have made a tasty snack.

Vincent hasn’t told Kora about it yet- he’s not sure he wants to, if he wants to see her eyes grow dark with disappointment at his pride and how he had ended up here, even if it had placed him in her path. He wants her to think the best of him, he realizes. She deserves so much more than what the afterlife has to offer, so much more than he currently could offer her. He had spent so much of their time together so far riding on her coattails when she rescued him, picked him up off the street and fixed him. He wanted to give her everything back that she had given him, tenfold; he simply wanted to give her everything that she deserved.

He had never experienced anything like their relationship when he was alive, and they weren’t even dating- they still had yet to apply any sort of label to what they were doing together, but he thinks that they have a real chance if they want to try going properly steady instead of the casual thing they had going on now. He had only ever been a hook up or a one night stand on Earth, never met a girl’s parents or family or kept a photo of her in his wallet. He’d never felt the necessary sentiments, figured that eventually he would settle down when he met the right woman, when chasing the high of fame and recognition had been fulfilled. Women were mostly interchangeable to him when he bothered with trying to get his dick wet, and he knew that he was hot so when he wanted it, sex was easy to come by.

He had no shame about the fact that the sin that had landed him here was Pride. He just still couldn’t grasp the fact that Kora was in Hell with him at all; sometimes she seemed to just radiate the feeling of Heaven, of sunshine and flowers and happiness and that weird, warm feeling in his chest that made him uncomfortable and pleased at the same time. Disgustingly sentimental, Vincent thinks that he could spend his afterlife at her side and never get bored, never want her to leave.

When he wakes hours later, internal lights powering up and making his screen glow, he decides that he’ll ask her about it tonight. He can hear her humming something out in the kitchen as he comes back to the world of consciousness, excitement over the prospect of skating later still evident in her tone. He catches himself smiling, dopey expression on his face, and he hopes that this, at least, he doesn’t fuck up.

🩵❤️🩵❤️🩵

Kora looks too fucking good in the twirly little skirt that she wore, the cab driver giving her a glance that lasts a couple seconds too long when they clamber out of the vehicle together, Vincent tossing the payment in his direction with a sneer and a slam of the door. The skating rink is located in some sort of warehouse outside of Imp City, painted all sorts of bright, fun colors that make it stick out like an eyesore amongst the usual red and black and dark color scheme of Hell. Kora leads him in through a side door, waving to someone inside the building as they approach, arm wrapped around her waist to keep her close.

It doesn’t work for long- she’s sliding out of his grasp as soon as they’ve obtained their skates, lacing hers up before he’s even taken his shoes off and gliding away with the grace of a swan to spin in circles in the middle of the rink. She got a lot of practice at work, he knew, with Viv’s being one of those places that had all the waitresses running around on wheels- it was something else to see her in action though. He watches some women come up to her, all smiles and laughter, and something aches inside him, his hands stilling on the laces he was trying to tie.

“Need some help?”

A feathered hand is sliding along his calf, the touch so unexpected and unwelcome that he feels his face go full static for a moment before he registers that someone has seated themselves beside him. Their face is tilted downward so their long and narrow beak isn’t shoved directly into his face, making their expression almost coquettish as they look at him from under their lashes. White feathers fade to black along the outer edges of their face, the darker shades slipping into colors that remind him of an oil spill, dark greens and blues reflecting with the light when they tilt their head. The feathers cover their body, peeking out from a small white shirt with the slightest hint of breasts and shorts that would have been near illegal on Earth, before fading above stick-thin orange legs tucked into what was clearly a custom made set of skates.

They smirk at him, the line of their mouth hitching upwards. “What, ya only show silent films or somethin’?”

“I talk just fine,” he says, carefully sliding a chair over and dislodging their hand from his leg- his skates still weren’t on properly. “I don’t, however, take kindly to strangers touching me.”

The hint- if you could call it that, with how very obviously and unashamedly he had moved away- is ignored. The bird shifts into the seat he had just vacated. “We don’t have t’be strangers,” they say lowly, casting a glance around the room before sliding a winged arm over his shoulder and tracing a finger over the back of his screen. The motion makes his skin crawl, pulling his head as far back from the person as he can even as they follow him back, their other hand coming up to grip at his bicep. “C’mon, there’s a nice lil supply closet down the hall we could get acquainted with- could get me on my knees and-”

“Jesus Christ,” he says desperately, his renewed effort to get away landing him solidly on the floor as he falls out of the chair and his skates slide out from under him. “I’m not interested, fuck -”

“Whaaaat? I was just gonna offer t’tie ya laces up.” They give him a wink, violet eyes fluttering innocently, and he’s tempted to tell them where they can shove their offer when a more welcoming hand is laid on his shoulder, Kora’s familiar scent of almonds and coffee filling his senses.

“Vin, you okay? I saw you fall over- I’m so sorry, I should have helped you with your skates…” She trails off, settling onto her knees beside him and looking him over for any possible injuries or pains. She glances up at the person who had sat beside him, and he prepares for her to tear into the bitch like she had with Joy.

Instead, a smile lights up her face. “Eris! I thought you said this morning that you couldn’t make it?”

“Eh, cleared up somethin’ in my schedule,” the bird smiles- Eris, he knew now- and offers a shrug. “Ya didn’t mention bringin’ such a handsome friend, babe.”

“Oh! Yes, this is my boyfriend, Vincent.” Kora places a hand on his chest where she crouches beside him, arm sliding around his back to start helping him to his feet. He catches a glimpse of Eris’s face scowling and relishes in it before what Kora has said clicks.

My boyfriend, Vincent.

His plans for the night- a sweet little outing, asking her out officially, maybe a nice night between the sheets to mark the occasion- sputter and crackle with the wires in his head. If Kora notices the faint buzzing noise now coming from him she doesn’t mention it as she gets him standing and keeps an arm around his waist to hold him steady on the skates.

How long had she considered them being dating?

Had he been fucking up being her boyfriend this whole goddamn time?

How the fuck did he miss this?

He’s still processing as she leads him away from Eris and out onto the rink, letting her keep him upright until he gets the hang of it and goes into a sort of auto-pilot; he manages to stay standing, at least, and even if he can’t keep up with her he hasn’t fallen and cracked his screen open in front of a bunch of kids- nieces and nephews of Viv’s, to his understanding. Every once in a while Kora will leave his side to do some fancy spins in the middle of the rink, met with cheers and laughter from everyone nearby, and he feels that familiar pang in his chest that he gets when he looks at her these days.

While he’s distracted Kora skates up to him, a crease in her eyebrow and her mouth turned into a frown- Fuck, he thinks, I’ve fucked it up already.

“Are you okay?” She asks him, and wrings her hands together while her legs keep a steady pace. “I’m sorry for springing that on you- I guess we never really talked about if we were like, telling people about us? I should have asked or something, I’m sorry-” She’s rambling a bit, something that he’s noticed she does when she’s nervous.

“No! No no no,” Vincent interrupts, and guides her over to the side wall where they won’t get run over by any passersby. “I just wasn’t expecting it- everything is fine. I’m perfectly okay with people knowing.”

And he was- he was fine with people knowing, he was fine with the need to ask being taken from his responsibility. There was no reason to fear rejection now, since she had simply announced it as being so. It was a nice change from the girls he had ‘dated’ on Earth, keeping them mostly under wraps from his friends and co-workers and family, not wanting the external pressure of them telling him to settle down when he wasn't ready, before he could move on to the next. Kora was different; she was funny and kind and didn’t take shit from anyone, and she was perfect. He would do everything in his power to make sure that she was happy if she had decided she wanted to be with him.

Her smile was a beam of light, and she places her hands on his chest. “Me too. I want people to know, Vin- you make me happy.”

“Fuck, Goldie, you make me happy, too.” He wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her closer, ignoring the cooing and shouts coming from the rest of the people in the rink with them. He knows he’s got to have a stupid expression on his face right now and can’t bring himself to care- he kisses her right there on the skating rink floor with a hand braced on the wall beside them, the other splayed across the small of her back as she presses into him, and he thinks some signals might have gotten crossed when he died because there was no way that he could be this happy and still be in Hell.

Vincent lets himself get pulled into the excitement of a new relationship pretty easily- he holds Kora’s hand as they circle the rink a few times, or she’ll grab hold of his arm and rest her head on his shoulder as they move. They take a break to enjoy a milkshake and he gets to experience that cheesy moment of two straws in a single glass- even if Kora does end up sucking most of it down on her own when he gets distracted by a couple old sinners that fly around the rink like spinning tops and crash into each other in the center of the rink. He can’t bring himself to chastise her about it when she looks so goddamn cute, giving him that look that she knows he can’t fucking resist, so instead he dips his fingers into the remnants of the shake and swipes it down her nose, and her laughter rings in his ears.

Once the mess of the two sinners has been cleared off the floor, the DJ plays something sweet and slow; Kora offers him her hand and he’s powerless to deny her, following her in shaky legs back to the floor. They’re one of a few couples that sway together on the floor, one pair really going above and beyond and throwing one another into grand dips and twirls to the rhythm of the music. But he’s content to rock gently with Kora, his hands on her waist and her head tucked up under his against his chest while the singer croons something about the world being enchanted or some shit.

“You know,” she murmurs against his shirt, “I think Eris might have been trying to flirt with you earlier.”

He chuckles when he looks down at her- she must not have seen or heard the obvious proposition that Eris had given him. “You don’t say.”

“Mmm.” She rolls her skates a little closer. “It’s silly- she was one of my first friends down here before I found Gideon again. Is it bad that I’m a little pleased that she might be kinda jealous right now?”

“Not at all.” In fact, he’s glad- let the bitch be jealous. He’s never heard anything but shit about Eris from Kora even if she was never downright mean. “I’m a fucking catch, baby- if she’s cooking up some jealousy let her stew.”

She smacks him lightly against the chest but laughs, bringing herself as close to his body as she can, and he loves the warmth of her, how she feels held against him and safe in his arms. “Don’t get cocky,” she admonishes, but her tone is affectionate- and that’s allowed now, he realizes, he doesn’t have to pretend like he doesn’t fucking like this woman as much as he does. He’s her fucking boyfriend now.

His returning excitement at that is cut short when the music picks back up again, and a wave of children rushes back onto the floor- they surround him and Kora, and one of them brushes closely enough that Vincent is thrown off balance. He has enough of a mind to take his hands off Kora so he doesn’t take her down with him, and he lands hard on his ass when his ankle turns in a direction it definitely is not supposed to, the wheels taking the foot out from under him entirely. He catches himself, mostly, before he can smack his head off the ground, and from his position on the floor he sees Kora whip a nasty look in the direction of the child that took him out.

Viv, Kora’s boss, is already on it. “Take care of your man,” she calls to Kora, an older imp woman with a thick accent that Vincent can’t place. “And you!”

The child that had knocked him down freezes in his tracks.

“That’s right, Johnny- you get your ass over here so I can hand it to you on a goddamn plate.” The kid has the nerve to look back at him with a glare like its his fucking fault the bastard had used his ankle like a goddamn kickboard for velocity, and he hopes Viv really gives it to the little bastard- his wish is granted when the child slinks off the floor with his tail between his legs and Viv swats him in the back of the head before dragging him over to what he would assume is the kid’s mother.

“Vin? Fuck, are you okay?” Kora is back in his line of sight, her face creased in concern while she helps him to his feet- or foot, rather, since he can’t really stand on the one that twisted. “Damn it- come on, can you balance on one foot? Yeah just like that-” She helps him roll off the floor with one leg held up like a figure skater. He feels a little ridiculous, he’s sure people are laughing at him, a tall, muscular demon with a television for a head being led away like a ballerina by Kora, a little wisp of a Golden Retriever. But he likes her hands all gentle and caring on him, so he lets it- and himself- slide until she can get him close enough to a chair to sit down.

Vincent lets her fuss over him for a bit, but he sees the way that she keeps glancing back at the skating rink as some of the crowd starts to clear out. “Go on, Kora,” he says, nodding at the lit up floor. “I’ll be fine over here on my own- go ahead and get the rest of your skating done, I know you want to.”

She almost looks like she wants to deny it, but sighs and concedes. “Okay,” she agrees, and cups his head in her hands to press a kiss to the top of his screen. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“Take your time. I’ll focus on getting these damn things off,” he says, gesturing at his skates. “Have fun, baby.” She offers him a sweet smile and skates backwards back into the fray- just to show off, he’s sure.

“Hey there, handsome.” As soon as Kora has left his side Eris sidles back up into the seat next to him, and Vincent just manages to keep his face from twitching in displeasure. “Kora left ya on your own? That’s not very nice.”

“I’m a grown man,” he tells her, pointedly not making eye contact as he pulls off his skates as gently as he can, wincing in pain when his ankle gives an unhappy twinge that radiates up his leg. “I can handle myself.”

“Grown man? Ha! Looks to me like you’re Kora’s bitch.”

His head whips around to look at her, her gaze directed at the bright pink nails that adorn the ends of her fingers. “Excuse me?”

She shoots him a glance with a nasty smile. “I mean, I’m just a bystander but that’s how it looks- she took ya in and took care of ya for a couple months when ya first got here, that’s what Kora said! And what, ya made dinner and did dishes while she was out workin’? Cleaned up that little apartment of hers?” She hides her giggle- poorly, he notes- behind a wing, her violet eyes sparking with malice. “If she’s the provider- and it looks like she is, with what I know and how she was oh so sweet taking care of you just now- that essentially makes ya the woman of the house.”

“Who gives a fuck?” His blood feels like it’s running slowly through his veins, something hissing in the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like his father- he tries to ignore it. “First of all, we contribute equally now that I have a job; secondly, this is Hell, nobody cares about that bullshit down here. And what Kora and I do in our relationship is none of your fucking business.”

She holds her hands up as if in defeat. “Easy there, big guy! I’m just sayin’, I figured a man like you woulda been all about makin’ sure his woman was provided for, not the otha' way around.” She glances out onto the floor of the skating rink, where Kora holds hands with an imp child and lets her do little spins and slides, holding her so she doesn’t fall. When she notices them looking she throws a wave in their direction, her smile bright under the reflective lights bouncing off the mirrors that cover the walls. “Kora is a great gal,” Eris continues in a tone that suggests she thinks otherwise, “I’d just hate to see her not gettin’ what she deserves from her man, ya know?” She gives him a sarcastic smile. “That husband of hers wasn’ even fuckin’ her and he was doin’ more for her than you are from what I can see. Step ya game up, yeah?”

She stands from the chair, tail feathers flicking out from over the top of her skirt. “I got shit to do so I’m gonna go- tell sweet thing over there I’ll see her around. And you, of course,” she adds, trailing a hand down his arm before she turns and swans out of the building, a wave thrown over her shoulder at the women she works with on the side of the rink before the door slams shut behind her.

🩵❤️🩵❤️🩵

He doesn’t let himself think about it for a while- at the very least the conversation stays shoved into the back of his mind until he and Kora manage to get home. Rather than cuddling together on the couch like they usually do- and yeah, Vincent had still called it ‘cuddling’ when he thought they weren’t together, but now it was cuddling with a purpose- Kora herds him to the bedroom. Despite his best efforts, she won’t let him strip her of her twirly skirt and get under the covers with him right away. Instead, she helps him to the bed and disappears back to the living area, coming back with a steaming cup of tea that she insists on him drinking. “It’ll help with the swelling, Vin, come on,” and he only agrees to it when she concedes to sit on his lap as he does so. He chugs it, far too fast, but Kora is even faster; she’s up and out of his lap before he takes his last swallow.

“You keep your hands to yourself,” she warns, “or I’ll sleep on the couch.” And he knows that she’ll do it, too, since the woman had no qualms about falling asleep reading on the couch under normal circumstances, let alone those where Vincent wasn’t bending to her will.

“Fine, fine,” he acquiesces, and holds an arm out when she strips down and changes into her pajamas to climb into bed with him. “I’ll behave, promise.”

The glare she shoots him is convincing- especially since not half an hour later she’s squirming in his arms and fogging his screen with the heat of her breath as she rides his fingers, gasping his name in ecstasy- he doesn’t let her reciprocate, doesn’t think he can focus on much else with the insistent twinging pain in his ankle, but he’s happy to make Kora come so she drifts a little easier into sleep beside him.

He’s up for hours after- he reads the book he keeps in his bedside drawer (something written by someone down here in Hell, and it's not as good as the stuff that comes filtered down from upstairs) and tries to focus on the words before him, on Kora’s even breathing at his side, on anything but the hiss of his father’s voice in his head telling him that if he’s not the right kind of man then he’s nothing. It’s not even entirely Eris’s fault, Vincent realized- she had just spoken aloud something that he hadn’t been letting himself think about.

That he was letting Kora down, had been since even before they were properly dating (whenever that had begun).

He had been a leech, letting her take care of him all that time before he had finally gotten a job and started contributing to the apartment. To her apartment, he reminded himself; he helped with the rent and bills but everything was in her name, it was her space, and even if he was her boyfriend now it didn’t sit right with him. Especially with his epiphany this morning- that Kora deserved more than the life they currently had, in this shitty apartment, at her shitty job with Eris as a shitty friend. He wanted to provide for her, give her more than what they had now.

There was no resentment towards Kora herself, of course- it wasn’t her fault that he had taken a back seat, and it seemed like it was just in her nature to be good to people, to help them. He would never begrudge her that, could never blame her for just being herself; that was what he wanted, for her to be happy and not have to worry about things like keeping the lights on or whether they could afford to get ice cream with their groceries.

He glances over at the photo of Gideon on Kora’s nightstand and glares at it. What had he done that was so great that he had even Eris singing his praises? Vincent knew next to nothing about Kora's husband- she was frustratingly tightlipped about who he was as a person, what their lives had been like down here in Hell before he had found the end of an Exorcist's blade. He didn't know what job he held, what money he made or how he contributed to Kora's happiness.

The bat hadn’t deserved her but Vincent would- he would work more hours at the station, rise the ranks, get a good promotion like he had when he was alive. And then Kora could have the afterlife that she should have. She deserved to be spoiled, pampered, to live a life of luxury that they couldn’t have together if Vincent didn’t step his shit up. Maybe it would put a bit of a strain on their relationship for a while, since even now they didn’t have much quality time together, but it would be worth it in the end.

He thinks he can get them into an ideal spot within a year; then he could ease up on his work and focus more on her, spend more time together, fuck to their heart’s content. She wouldn’t have to work, could spend the time he was at the station working on her crafts or reading or doing whatever the fuck she wanted to do. Vincent would take her on vacations, to LuLu World, he would rent out the entire skating rink for her to twirl and spin and dance so he could just admire her and relish in the fact that he had made her so fucking happy.

He watches Kora sleep, her breath even, her nose scrunched up the tiniest bit and her eyebrows furrowed, indicating a nightmare. He pulls her closer into his arms and she calms, settling against him.

Just a year, he thinks, and he finally starts to let his head power off, the light of his screen dimming. Things would be hard for them for a year and then it would all be perfect, like they deserved.

🩵❤️🩵❤️🩵

I am once again presenting on an ethereally lit pedestal my commissioned art from Chef because I will literally never stop talking about how perfect they are

Chapter 1 📺 Chapter 2 💛 Chapter 3 📺 Chapter 4 💛 Chapter 5

#goldenvision #vox x kora #vox x oc #hazbin hotel #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #vox smut #vox hazbin hotel #vox fanfiction #literally obsessed with them

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rubberducki20 · 6 months ago

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Background and descriptions:

World:Earth, a place with humans and demi humans, they don't usually exist peacefully but there are safe places and people.

Characters:

Jarek: 6'2, 25 year old Demi human, grouchy dickhead cat man, been in a gang since 14 (refuses to speak on it), tattooed and the peen is pierced (arm sleeves and a ladder piercing oh my)

Lavender (Kora): 5'1, 22 year old human, sweet but assertive, army drop out, her mother married a Demi human so she loves Demi humans, no tattoos or piercings, just scars

MDNI 🔞 NSFW 🔞

Here's a photo rep or Jarek

Kora's POV

I place the first aid kit in the table beside him, "shirt off, I gotta see how bad they are." I sit down in front of him, half expecting him to just leave, but he doesn't. He huffed and takes his shirt off showing toned and muscled chest and stomach, it wasn't as bad as I thought. I dabbed peroxide on a cotton ball and cleaned the wounds and blood up.

I wasn't expecting to have a 6 foot man in my house, I cringe at the blood he smeared on the couch. Oh well, at least it's old and leather. "Tsk, why the fuck did you drag me here human?" He asks, his cream colored black tipped tail flicks showing his annoyance. "Maybe because you were getting your ass kicked on my lawn. Humans are so selfish and racist. It's Kora by the way." I shout back from the bathroom, the poor man had blood soaking his shirt and face, he was definitely gonna have bruises that lasted more than a week. "Whatever bitch. What are you even doing anyways?" He quirks, wow this man was a fiesty one. "If your gonna call me a bitch at least pull my hair and spank me. What I'm gonna do is fix your wounds and put that shoulder back in place."

He took his shirt off, showing me that the wounds werent so bad as they looked. I cleaned the wound with peroxide and cotton balls. After that I put my hands on his shoulder, "this is gonna hurt, I'm sorry." I shove the socket back into the blade and all I get from him is a hiss of pain.

"So how do you want me to pay you back?" His question surprised me. I laughed at it, "Nothing, but if you need a place to stay you can, If you feel like you owe me then I'll just as for help moving big furniture or at my store." I get up and put the first aid kit back, "I'm not some pet for you to oggle human." His ears were to the side, and he didn't look to happy. "Who said you were a pet dumbass? You want to pay me back, then that's how. I only offer a room cause it's clear you don't have a place to go." I snap back, heading to the kichean to make dinner. I could feel him seething but he didn't answer me, but the chair squeaking on the floor did.

I made salmon and ramen with eggs, and slid a bowl with chopsticks in front of him. I sat down across from the man and began eating myself. "Can I at least know your name?" I questioned, "Jarek." was my only response.

After we both finish, I grab our dishes an wash them. "Let me show you the room you'll be staying in." I beckon him to follow and he does. I stop at the green door, open it and move out the way so he can come in. "You have a private bathroom, and tomorrow we'll go get you some new clothes." I turn towards my door that's 2 down, "if you need me just holler or knock." I walk into my room and and lea against the door. Eventually I hear his door close and my body relaxes.

I got ready for bed and tried to sleep. After a few hours of tossing and turning, I couldn't help it, I was turned on by Jarek, ofc I wasn't gonna tell him that. So, I grabbed my vib and toy to relax my ache. Hoping to God Jarek couldn't hear.

Jarek's POV

I didn't get why that little human was being friendly, it was weird..but she did cook really good and the room was nice, especially the bed.

Jarek was too high on alert to sleep, and it didn't help that with his hearing, he could hear little human being promiscuous. He felt himself stiffen, and sighed at himself, hating that he was turned on by it.

Eventually the little one stopped, more then likely finding the high she was chasing and it wore her out. Finally, Jarek was able to get some sleep. He'll deal with his raging cock later.

Morning ♡

Jarek woke to the smell of pancakes, he couldn't remember the last time he had them. He stalked to the kitchen, Jarek smelled the remnants of pleasure that stuck to his little human. He wanted to taste it, but refrained from it.

She was dressed in shorts and a sports bra, her hair wet, mustve taken a shower. "Smells good for a human cooking." Jarek sat in the seat he did last night and 3 pancakes were put in front of him. He wouldn't ever admit it, but she was amazing at cookin. "Well im glad you like it, I know a demi friendly store we can go to for some new clothes. Then we gotta go open up my store." She said to her food, she was nervous around him. He loved it.

"Yea yea, just don't be tryna say I'm your pet or sum shit." Jarek put his plate in the sink, and sat back down. "If anyone asks, your my roommate and new hire." She chirps, throwing a discarded shirt on an grabbed some keys. They both walked out of the house and got into her car. It was nice, solid black with dark green leather seats. Jarek adjusted the seat to his liking and their little journey began. "Ok, so here's my card, don't go too crazy but get what you need. Imma go do store owner duties and come back to pick you up." She pulls up to a store, the sign saying demi humans welcomed in all black. "Alright. See you later then." Jarek gets out the car and reaches in to get the card.

He watches the car drive off and he goes into the store.

Kora's POV

She liked this softer side of Jarek, definitely not the softest, but at least he wasn't calling her a bitch. She pulled up to her pride and joy, Lavender Layers, a bakery she's gained ownership of when her parents passed. She noticed two cars parked in the back, must be her two employees, Viva and Chancellor. As she got out at walked to the back of the door, she guide was right cause the two demi humans got out of their cars and joined her. "Hey boys! How yall. Ready to fill some orders to day?" Kora smiled, the two men agreeing. "Oh, we have a new hire, he's my roommate too, so don't be too hard on him..he's had a rough past."

The men hummed in acknowledgement, they didn't speak a lot either, I hired them the day they got out of prison. I had their backs and they had mine.

Kora let the men get to their daily duties and she went to order jarek a few store shirts and a cap that'd fit his cat ears. A knock on the office door startled her, and as it opened she was given a coffee. "Thank you Viva, your husband's coffee is the best." She took several sips enjoying the honey hazelnut coffee. With the clothes ordered, Kora went to the front to unlock the door, and to help finish baking her mothers favorite desserts.

A few customers human and demi alike to enjoy Sweets. The door opened and jarek stalked in. "Oh hey! You find everything you need?" She smiled, and went to the side to let him in the back of the store. "Yea I found it all. You didn't tell you owned Lavender. I loved this place as a kid." Jarek looked around, tail swishing with curiosity. "My mom and step dad owned this place, I got it once they passed. Here's our coworkers, Chancellor and Viva. They don't talk much but their great." She started showing Jarek everything that he'll start learning the next couple days while the boys took care of the line out front. "I also ordered you some shirts for the store and a cap. If I'm not around, the boys will be able to show you. And-" glass breaking stopped Kora mid sentence.

The pair went up front to see Viva helping a lady with two kids clean up a broken mug, the poor lady was apologizing profusely. "Ma'am it's perfectly okay, we all break things sometimes. Trust me we have more mugs." Viva says and goes back to remake her drink.

That's all I'm writing for today guys, works got me a Lil beat 😮‍💨😅 love yall! I hope I get to wrote more on these little love birds.

#cat man #demi human #human x furry #monster smut #smut #monster romance #hate to love

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uzumaki-rebellion · 1 year ago

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"Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 4, Chapter 74 (Finale) Part 1

I had to split this into 2 posts. Go to Wattpad to read it easier!

Need to catch up on this epic? Masterlist HERE.

youtube

"Years I have known I am living in a war zone

Poison of my enemy blatantly attacking me

War goddess arouse your power

Know this is indeed your hour

Dying to be heard literally

Constant screams convincing me

War"

Caron Wheeler – "Beach of the War Goddess"

"Shh, Dumplin, don't wake him…Baba is tired. Sweet Pea…both of you go with Kora and let your father sleep longer."

N'Jadaka kept himself snug in the fetal position with the bed covers tucked under his chin. Yani fussed with Sydette and Riki as they rushed to the bed trying to get to him. It was a losing battle once Sydette patted his shoulder and cupped his chin.

"Baba, today is such a pretty day, we should all go outside to see the blue butterflies," Sydette said.

N'Jadaka opened one eye. Sydette peered down at him with her big dimples visible.

"See, Baba is wide awake," Sydette said.

"Come on, Baba…the butterflies…." Riki whined.

N'Jadaka groaned. Yani had worked his body out and he ached all over in a good way.

"The butterflies will still be migrating later this afternoon," Yani said.

"Baba…"

Sydette's big eyes would not take no for an answer.

"Give Baba one more hour," N'Jadaka groaned.

He shifted his head onto a large pillow and gave both children morning hugs as they clamored onto him. Their haste to lie next to him on either side squeezed Yani out of the way. She stood up and put her hands on her hips, a lavender cover-up hanging loosely around her curves.

"We can have breakfast in bed," Sydette suggested.

Yani glanced at N'Jadaka and he grinned.

"Alright, breakfast in bed with Mama and Baba," he said.

Sydette and Riki cheered.

"Are you sure you want to get up now?" Yani said.

"Yeah… yeah…once I start moving around I'll be okay," he said.

Yani tapped a camouflaged floating screen above her nightstand.

"Kora, we'll have breakfast with the children in my room. Please tell the kitchen to bring our meals on trays."

"Yes, Princess Yani," Kora answered on the screen.

Yani fluffed up the pillows in the middle of the bed for the children to sit between them better. Their home attendants brought up the hearty morning meal of hot honey chicken omelets, mango crepes, and cheesy grits. N'Jadaka listened to his children talk excitedly about the blue butterfly migration through the royal garden and shared new riddles from Baba Z and Umama. His eyes blurred a lot and he found himself turning his head to the side, pretending to check his kimoyos because the peace he felt being with his family under a single roof flooded him with memories of his home life as a child. It gave him normalcy. Comfort. Fleeting images of himself as a boy sneaking food from his mother's plate as his father did the same rooted him in the present.

"When is Joba coming back?" Riki asked.

"In a few days," Yani said.

"Why can't she just stay here with us when Umi Disa has to travel?" Sydette asked.

N'Jadaka touched Sydette's braided hair.

"Well, they have family overseas that don't get to see her that much. Umi Disa has to share her with other relatives," N'Jadaka said.

"They can just come here," Riki said, irritation coloring his voice.

"You miss your baby sister, Dumplin?" Yani asked, tickling Riki's shoulder.

He nodded, and then his eyes watered.

"Aw, baby boy, she'll be back home soon. I know it's been hard for you," Yani cooed.

She hugged Riki and he buried his face in her side. Yani glanced at N'Jadaka and they shared a look to allow their son to cry openly. It was something they agreed upon to keep Riki in touch with his feelings. He was attached to Joba in a way they were still understanding as a family and it had nothing to do with emotional distance but the actual physical contact between them. They thrived as siblings in proximity to each other, almost as if they needed to recharge with one another in order to function at their best. Shuri theorized it had to do with their empathetic abilities to read people, and they balanced each other out when it became too much to process. Yani even commented that keeping them close helped with Riki's outbursts of frustration, something N'Jadaka recognized in his own past as a neurodivergent child. Crying was taught to their children as a good thing, a purifying release that wasn't to be coddled away or shunned as an outlet for mental health. N'Jadaka let himself shed some tears with his child and Yani reached across the pillow to rub his shoulder.

"I miss her too, Lil Man," he said.

Riki nodded and sat back on his propped pillow and his chest heaved a few times until he calmed himself down. Holding his father's hand helped him, the kinetic contact soothing to the boy from someone with the same gifts of perception.

"Will we get to stay here with you from now on?" Sydette asked.

"Yes. All of us here together," N'Jadaka said.

"Finally," Sydette said. "I'm tired of moving from house to house."

"Me too," Yani said.

N'Jadaka leaned over and kissed Yani in front of the children, solidifying the final union. Soon enough, he crammed the last of the food in his mouth, belched, and checked messages on his kimoyo. Shuri was back in her lab collecting data from satellite warning systems and T'Challa left his suite to join his sister. There was an orange code warning attached to T'Challa's message. The Avengers were heading to Wakanda and he would handle it before pulling N'Jadaka into the mix. N'Jadaka's intuition told him that complications were on the horizon. He typed a message informing everyone in the upper ranks that he would spend the next two hours with his family before heading out to Shuri's lab. His scheduled day off would have to be forsaken for duty to the country.

The attendants returned to collect their trays and juice glasses. Kora arrived to collect the children to change into outdoor clothes.

"Go, go!" Yani said.

She waved her hands at the children and they tumbled out of the bed and ran out of the room to Kora. She locked the door behind them.

"I'll have to remember to lock the door early. I spoke with them about barging in here when we're still sleeping. They'll have to get used to knocking from now on."

"They'll learn. They aren't accustomed to us being together in the same bedroom. It's different from before. I don't mind it."

"But what if they catch us… you know…"

"I'll code some warning lights for them so we'll know they're on the loose."

"I'll just keep the door locked. Time to learn boundaries as a unit."

His gaze dusted over her cover-up.

"I like when you wear those," he said.

She twirled around to amuse him before joining his side on the bed again.

"I saw the expression on your face when you checked messages. What is it?"

He rubbed Yani's hip and pulled her on top of him. Sunlight dappled across her arm and he rubbed the warmth it brought to her skin.

"The Avengers… Cap's people with Tony Stark… they need our help. It's a big deal, but T'Challa and I have made contingency plans."

"Contingency plans?"

He took a deep inhale.

Yani caressed his cheek.

"I can handle it," she said.

Closing his eyes, he accepted fully that Yani would indeed navigate the trying times ahead with him.

"Can we talk about it after the butterflies?" he asked.

"Sure. C'mon…"

She pulled him from the bed and they sauntered out to her balcony shower. The wide glass enclosure steamed up fast and they stripped naked, walking inside the warm space hand in hand. He lathered up a fluffy synthetic loofah sponge and washed Yani's front and back. She did the same for him as he scrubbed down his privates and hers.

Rinsing off with the three-sixty jet sprays, sunlight illuminated the shower, and N'Jadaka held Yani close to his wet body. Lowering his head he kissed her and fondled her breasts. She broke away smacking her lips and placing a hand on the plane of his left pec.

"Don't start nothin', man," she giggled.

He fingered her folds, finding them slippery and plumped up.

Yani moved out the sower and padded over nude to an outdoor chaise lounge to retrieve their towels. Her breasts jiggled as she unfolded the cloth for him.

"Baby, stay like that…put the towel down and bend over a little bit…yeah, like that."

He touched his dick from the entrance of the steamy shower while watching her.

"Lean forward… yeah… right there," he moaned.

She wiggled just a bit and then spread her feet wider while holding onto the chaise lounger. Her ass cheeks parted and her vulva became more visible. She rocked her hips left and right so that her backside hypnotized him. Slowing down even more, she gave him a little show. His erection grew in his hand. Once his dick started spewing pre-cum, he walked over to her and rested the wide head on her rump.

"Keep moving like that…yeah…nice and slow…lemme slap this dick on that ass…"

His free hand squeezed her left butt cheek as he masturbated against her. Reaching around for a heavy breast, he fondled her chest and jerked off.

"I warned you about startin' somethin'. Your big mouth told them an hour. We were supposed to sleep in," Yani grumbled.

"This is just a quickie. You know I'm a basic dude that fumbles when it comes to all this parading around in front of me. You didn't have to jiggle this ass so hard to get some towels. You wanted to prance around and tease me."

"If you say so."

"Always your go-to answer."

He slapped her ass and the sound was a solid loud echo.

"First time I saw this big ass I wanted to do this," he grunted. "Walk for Daddy."

Yani did the slow sultry walk into the bedroom he loved. N'Jadaka followed and fisted himself, watching her ass bounce. She could walk around anywhere in their private life like that with him and he would follow as if she placed him in a seductive trance. Cake by the pound, mama was heavy, and N'Jadaka kept up with her swaying hips.

"Make those cheeks clap for me," he said.

Yani stopped at her vanity and jumped up and down lightly, not needing too much effort to get her ass cheeks bouncing before they started making the noise he loved. She wiggled and reached back to smack her cheeks for him to show how much heaviness she carried.

"Oohh Yani…fuck," he groaned in a high-pitched tone.

He jerked off and patted her folds with his dick, making his tip slick.

"Remember how I used to make you walk around the compound naked?" he asked.

"Yeah."

He slapped his dick harder on her ass. Pre-cum dripped down her skin. He twisted his fingers under the head of his dick and cupped her breast again. His balls ached to cum, but he wanted to make it last. Once they stepped out of her bedroom, the day would not be their own anymore.

"We should go back to St. Thomas for a family vacation. I can fuck you outside again like I used to. Bend you over in the laundry room…tight, young pussy all over my dick. Everybody used to watch your fine ass walk around with this big booty in those sweats…cheeks just fucking bouncing all day. You knew what it did to me watching you walk around. Fat titties…fat ass… and you just let me nut in your pussy…all in your tight pussy…oh fuck…spread that ass…lemme cum on that pussy baby…"

Yani twisted her hips in a slow erotic fashion knowing he needed that slowness to arouse him more. Leaning her elbows on the vanity, she glanced back at him, ratcheting up his visual pleasure as she pouted her lips. Her rump did a syncopated dance all their own, teasing him with their movement the way men back home would make gifs of her social media videos to nut off to. That shit worked on her man too, and his face scrunched up, his lips parted to spill out the groans of losing control. His occasional gasps as the pitch of his voice changed excited her, and Yani spread her folds for him to see the delicious pink he craved surrounded by the sparkling jewels of her piercings.

She tilted her hips, and he rested his tip near her opening and spurted creamy hot cum all over her folds.

"Spread them pussy lips wider… lemme see all that pink… there you go baby…nut all over that…"

He grunted as his dick pulsed in his hand, all hot and heavy, painting more streaks of white heat all over her ass.

"I made a mess for real Yani…fuck… look at all that cum."

He rubbed semen gently over her swollen folds.

"Still sore?" he asked.

"A little. But I have that new cream Ilana brought for me."

"Want me to rub it on you?"

"No, I'll do it myself because you'll want to put that dick back in and we don't have time," she huffed.

They kissed.

A pounding on the bedroom door separated them.

"Mama! Baba! Come on!" Riki shouted.

Yani rushed back to the shower to rinse off and N'Jadaka grabbed the clothes that Ilana and Zola left out for him.

Several diverse species of butterflies migrated through Wakanda, but the favorite was always the blue mountain butterfly that traversed the terrain of the Jabari down to the warmer valley of Birnin Zana during the roosting season.

Sydette and Riki squealed and chased the thousands of fluttering butterflies, their brilliant color flooding the sky with azure wings.

"Gentle, gentle…" Yani prodded.

Sydette turned her face towards them with two butterflies flapping their wings on her forehead. They all laughed and N'Jadaka took pictures with his kimoyo beads. A dense migratory wave swooped down through the royal garden and flew past them. Surrounded by sunlight and blue, the happy family basked in the beauty of nature.

The children ran down a path to follow the butterflies heading toward the sweet-smelling flowers that attracted and sustained them, and N'Jadaka clasped Yani's hand and walked with her slowly to admire their bloodline frolicking in the garden. They spoke of her work, their wedding plans, and his need to balance more quiet time for himself. The sun rose above the tallest trees in the garden and they slowed down to admire the garden pond near the edge of the south enclosure.

"I think I want to write a book," Yani said.

The brown of her eyes were bright with the light of the sun, their shine almost turning into honey amber jewels as she gazed up into his face seeming to yearn for his approval. She valued his input regarding her career even though she was the expert in the trajectory of her future goals. He adored how she squeezed his hand and waited for an answer. Her beauty had always moved him and in the midst of butterflies and warm solar rays, N'Jadaka fell in love with Yani all over again, a mature love that sweetened more each day.

"What will your book be about?" he said.

"I want to share how Wakanda brings babies into the world. I will call it 'The Wakandan Way of Birth'…or something like that. Disa liked the article I wrote for the Wakandan Daily News and I think the lessons I've learned here could benefit Western women more personally in book form. Pictures… testimonies… and my experience being trained away from Western medicine. I complete my obstetrics residency next year, and with my Wakandan midwife certification finished, I think I'm qualified enough to write what I know so far. I'll request to be transferred to a hospital closer to the palace if I can."

"That sounds pretty good to me, baby. You have a full pedigree now. Dr. Galiber-Udaku…queen of the nation and the author of a future bestseller. Doing big things like I knew you would."

She rested her head against his chest.

"I love you… so much," Yani whispered into his chest.

"I love you more."

Wrapping her arms around his waist, she nestled into his chest deeper and he rubbed circles into her upper back.

"Do you need me to provide you with more support? I'll have your personal office ready in the East Palace. When you're prepared to interview new staff for your palace office, let me know. Zinzi and Efetobo can help screen applicants."

"I want a cross-section of the nation to apply, not just people in the golden city."

"That can be arranged. Let me know the budget you need and I can approve any extra admin costs for international travel and your auxiliary programs outside of Wakanda," he said.

He tilted her chin to look into her eyes.

"We have to talk about the schedule changes Yani. I have to factor in our joint duties on the world stage, but I know this will cut into your hospital work. There are high expectations for the queen…and now that we've begun working with other nations…listen, I'm not saying you can't keep working at the hospital, but your hours will have to be adjusted. Your presence at the ball was legendary already, understand? You are my secret chess piece."

"I don't want to be a part-time doctor."

"You can't be a part-time queen either."

"Why not? You have Ramonda to help you."

"Ramonda is my hand across the sea. You are the face of the nation. I need your patient load to be cut down to at least twenty hours a week."

"Twenty?!"

"You're about to be a queen. Have you thought out what that means? If something ever happened to me, you'd have to run the country. You have to be in the throne room for as much time as you're in the hospital. The Council of Elders, the Wakandan parliament, and the nobles expect you seated next to me."

Yani mashed her lips together, a curse word surely being held back from him.

"I asked for a compromise, baby. That's what the twenty hours are for. You would have morning duties in the throne room, and then you could finish the rest of your time at the hospital and your East Palace office."

"Babies don't arrive on a set schedule."

"This is the life we have now. We are the king and queen of the world."

The hesitation in her eyes worried him.

"I can't ask for more than you can give, Yani. Queens before you accepted their assignment as mother of the nation without question. It's one of the most powerful positions any woman will ever have. The elders told me if you can't give up the time, then they'll have to reconsider your title as queen. I'm not ruling with a princess, girl. I'm not marrying another woman either to have a queen in the role that only fits you. Please give it a chance, baby. I want you to have both worlds in peace. Once they see you can balance it, they may lay off the pressure on me."

"You can make all the rules now—"

"I also have to meet the elders halfway… show them that I'm not just a half-cocked dictator. I compromise to make them trust my leadership. Zinzi and Efetobo support you one hundred percent, but even they have to abide by the ancient laws and traditions of what the queen represents. You're not just the wife of a king, or an adornment for me either. You are a leader. Your hand will shape politics, and if you want to make the changes you desire in the world, then you have to be in the room where those decisions are made."

She considered his words, a lightbulb going off in her head by the way she glanced at the plants in the distance.

"I want to be in the room to help get what I need for my work," she said.

"You have to look beyond work… beyond your career… even beyond motherhood at times. Just like me."

Yani folded her arms across her midsection and stepped away from him to think.

"Do you wish I never took the throne?" he asked.

"No. I guess I just thought my domain would be raising our children and my continued education in medicine. Maybe I ignored everything else because I didn't think it would be my responsibility too. I planned on being like Michelle Obama…minding my business, supporting you on critical matters, and looking good for pictures."

"A queen is a lot more than a first lady in this country."

"I can be the queen Wakanda needs… the queen that you need," she said.

"You proved it last night. We're a kickass team."

Yani reached for his hand and he kissed her palm. He walked with his arm around her, enjoying the peace and quiet.

Too much quiet.

They caught up to Sydette who picked a fresh bouquet near the frog pond.

"Where is Riki?" Yani asked.

Sydette glanced around and shrugged.

"He was here a minute ago. Maybe he went to the gazebo," Sydette said.

"Riki," N'Jadaka called out.

Yani tapped her kimoyo.

"He's over by the cathedral tress," Yani said.

The path to the ancient tall trees winded around the frog pound and past Joba's fairy garden. They found Riki stuffed inside the space created by the bending and twining of tree trunks made years before N'Jadaka's father had been born. Riki spoke in a whispery voice, trying his best to stay hidden inside the protective covering.

"Riki!" Yani scolded when they all saw that he was speaking to Joba's image.

N'Jadaka's youngest daughter sat in her bed dressed in pajamas. It was nearly three in the morning where she stayed.

"Why are you up, Sunshine?" Yani asked.

Joba giggled.

"Does Mommy know you're talking to Riki?" N'Jadaka asked.

"Mommy is asleep," Joba said.

N'Jadaka stared at her smile.

"You lost another tooth baby girl?" he asked.

The gap in her top front teeth made her adorable.

"I showed her my loose tooth, Baba," Riki said, opening his mouth to show off his bottom tooth.

"How is your Mommy, Sunshine?" Yani asked.

"Good."

"Can we have some privacy, please?" Riki insisted.

"Don't keep her up long, ten more minutes and then she has to get to sleep, Lil Man," N'Jadaka said.

Yani blew Joba a kiss and they left the younger children alone to watch Sydette gather more flowers for her bouquet. N'Jadaka slipped his hand into the back pocket of the skintight mauve yoga pants Yani squeezed into. As always, he couldn't keep his hands off of her without holding something to keep them connected. Gratitude swarmed in his chest. He dropped down low and encouraged Yani to climb onto his back. He carried her piggyback toward the palace entrance. Riki caught up to them. The beauty of their surroundings had them all feeling tranquil. A visit to the garden maze brought on a game of hide and seek before a quick trip to the peahen nursery to observe new hatchlings.

The family shared a light lunch with all the grandparents in the regular dining room before N'Jadaka took them back to their private residence to have naps. Their children went to their separate rooms and Yani took away one of Riki's kimoyo beads so he wouldn't contact Joba again in secret.

N'Jadaka climbed the stairs to his third-floor king's domain where an entire wing made up just his bedchamber alone. Ilana and Zola had fresh tea and snacks waiting for him with lavender incense burning in small brass holders shaped like panthers. They assisted Yani for a time before she joined him in his bedroom to nap wearing a sheer pink dressing gown. Cuddling on top of the covers, he rested his head on her breasts, while she stroked his locs.

Zola brought up a change of clothes for Yani to wear later, and Ilana tinted the windows and made sure N'Jadaka's warrior attire was situated for his trip to Shuri's lab later.

"This is the fucking life," he murmured into Yani's titties as he pulled aside the ties on her dressing gown to suck on her nipples.

"Just a big baby," she teased, helping to widen the top of her gown for easier titty access.

He plucked and sucked on her nipples and listened to her heavy breathing. When her eyes were glassy looking, he whispered in her ear.

"Did you put that cream on down there?" he said.

Yani nodded.

She squirmed next to him, watching him undress all the way.

"I'm sorry, baby. I can't help it. You're so fucking fine…"

He grunted into her ear. Yani circled her hands around his thick neck. Without him asking or begging, she widened her legs and he gripped his dick.

"Can't help it…"

He sank into her depths and shouted her name. It felt like molten caramel stickiness slathering his dick.

"You take it so deep…fuck… you got the best pussy, Yani. Best pussy I ever had in my life…listen to it take this big dick. Fuck!"

Yani laid up under him with passive pillow princess energy. Missionary was her favorite position with him. She loved to keep still with her legs wide so she could watch his dick going in and out of her pussy making all kinds of wet, squelching noises. Arousal for her came from N'Jadaka working himself into an obsessive sexual frenzy. He held her legs for her and she passively watched him pump her walls with deep short thrusts. Her pussy gripped him tight, her delicate hands resting on her thighs. After deep stroking her for a while, he stopped talking. Listening to his dick stretch her pussy, all he could muster was grunts and moans. A gripping pussy was always too much for him. All of his favorite lovers in the past that came close to that magical tight tunnel that shut down language couldn't compare to his queen.

Staring at the kittenish teasing in her glossy brown eyes broke him down physically and mentally. Thrusting deeper, he held still inside of her to indulge in the throbbing of his dick. Together they regarded their joining, her pussy stuffed full of heavy pipe. He was snug and she was stretched to capacity. He reached down to cup both breasts and she widened her thighs, allowing his balls to smack against her ass cheeks better once he resumed shallow thrusts extending the build-up ready to release intense pleasure. Dropping his head down further, he began panting, unable to hide the loss of control creeping up from the tension in his ass toward his massive shoulders held rigid.

"Ohhhh….Yani…baby, I wanna cum inside you…" he sputtered.

That thang was yankin' on his meat and his toes dug into the covers to anchor his thrusts. Yani reached up with both hands and cradled his face. Her lips pursed tight a few times as control slipped from her grasp. He wore down that pussy and her satisfied whimpers pleased him. However, the superior lovemaking that she provided turned him into a praying man in the middle of the act. His prayers were given to her in Wakandan love talk, the gushy sounds of her pussy accepting the reverence of his soft words raining down on her ears. Swiveling his hips to stroke at a different angle released a loud cry from her lusty lips. A heat spread behind his eyes and a pressure in his throat tightened his lips and he grimaced as the root of his dick sent pulses that squeezed at his balls. Her warmth, wetness, and lush body became an insatiable whirlpool he never wanted to escape from.

Lowering his head, he delved a greedy tongue into her mouth for deep wet kisses. Each stroke of his dick matched the neediness of his lips, and the fiery muscle wrestling control of her gasps for air flustered his resolve to last longer. Overwhelmed by too many sensations and moving parts pressing down on her, Yani jammed her cheek against his and listened to him curse his way through a massive orgasm. He lifted his body up just enough to watch his dick throb and pump her full of cum, his dick piercing rubbing up under her clit ring.

"Shit…ooh shit… I'm nuttin' in this pussy…I'm nuttin' all in this pussy, baby. Look at my dick…this nut feels too fucking good…ohhhhh….damn….damn…fuck you doin' to me, Yani?"

A desperate groan cut him off and he watched Yani react to his release. Her eyes started to roll back then slammed shut when her thighs shook.

"Cum on that dick," he pleaded.

He gently thumbed her clit, tugging on her piercing to guide her to heaven.

"Oh dassit…dassit girl…I feel that pussy all over my dick…"

He hunkered down on her and pushed Yani to her limit, letting his dick hit that bottom so her orgasm lasted and he could savor the throbbing from tip to root of his rigid dick.

She opened her eyes and they both gazed into the reflections of love binding them forever. His sweet, precious island girl… the one who loved him back to himself…his eyes blurred, but not before he witnessed a teardrop fall upon her cute round nose. Yani wept under him, her tears spilling along the sides of her lids. He ejaculated again and shouted with surprise at what he was able to spurt into her. Her pussy contracted around his length and he slumped over in defeat, blanking out mentally for about five seconds before gaining control of his senses again.

He lifted away from her, pulling out his dick. The dark brown of his fat erection dripped with the liberal shine of her sticky fluids. It hung heavy and sated between his thighs.

"You fucked the shit out of me," he gasped. "How is that possible when I did all the work?"

He folded like a bad poker hand onto her breasts, accepting the rubs on his head from her in silent wonder. When he was strong enough after a time, he lowered his head between her legs to kiss her folds and lick the jewels that adorned platinum pussy like hers. His thick lips gave loving kisses to her big thighs, her hips, and her belly button. It still wasn't enough to show her how she broke him down sexually. All he could do was keep kissing her vulva and clit, using the tip of his tongue to part her folds and trace the shape of hearts all over her pussy lips.

He fell asleep with his head resting on her thigh and his fingers playing with her nipples.

N'Jadaka loved hard and strong.

Yani listened to his deep breathing as he slept on her body.

He slow-fucked her to sleep, but she woke up before he did. Sometime during their nap, he had moved against her side, his right hand still gripping a titty for security. He snored softly and he only did that in a deeply relaxed state. Especially after he fucked her good and proper. To say he gave her the best dick in her life was an understatement. Her body was built for deep-dick men, and not every man had the pipe to get past her ass cheeks or tame her depths. Only N'Jadaka.

His open confession of her being the best pussy he ever had made her feel amazing. He fucked her like he was scared to lose her… like he was proving to her that no other man could handle her, and he was right. Cumming with him was magical, and crying together was divine. He possessed her completely.

N'Jadaka's kimoyo beads lit up in a cool neon green color. Shuri.

Yani lifted from his body giving him space to roll over and answer the call. She snuggled under the covers to hide her nudity. N'Jadaka slipped on loose house pants.

"Talk to me," he said.

Shuri's face carried stress. Her lips stuck out further than normal with worry.

"I think you should see this. At first, I thought the earlier images were captures of American space debris or maybe even solar rays interfering with our equipment…"

N'Jadaka's bedroom became filled with images of Earth from space. The images zeroed in on specks in the atmosphere above them.

"Satellites?" he asked.

"No."

The images were enlarged. Silver spheres floated above the continent of Africa.

"Maybe probes…a tracking system of some kind," Shuri said. "They've moved closer to earth in the last hour."

"I'm heading over there," he said.

"Rogers warned us of an assault. From space. This looks bad, N'Jadaka."

Shuri sent over new images. N'Jadaka enlarged them. Yani jerked up from the bed.

"Are those spaceships?" Yani said.

Shuri's image returned and the lines on her forehead increased.

"Those ships appeared right after the Avengers contacted us about their team coming here. As of now, these spacecraft are hiding themselves near the Kuiper Belt. They were not there twelve hours ago."

"They may be using the wormholes. How many?" N'Jadaka asked.

"I only counted seven, like an armada waiting off the coast," T'Challa answered.

T'Challa stood near Shuri with an equally grim expression.

"Standby," N'Jadaka said.

He shut off his kimoyos.

"There are aliens coming here?" Yani asked.

N'Jadaka reached for her hand, but Yani pulled on her napping gown and stepped off the rumpled bed.

"We will find out more. I want you and the children to visit Nakia. Stay with her until I contact you. Do not let on to anyone that you've seen this, okay?"

Questions flew through her mind, but she kept silent. N'Jadaka was in control and she rested in that knowledge, trusting him to protect them all from any and everything. Yani kissed his lips and hustled out of the king's bedchamber.

"Kora, have the children dressed and ready to go with me to see Lady Nakia," Yani said.

Kora moved with swift legs to the children's wing and Yani ran to her dressing room where Ilana and Zola helped supervise the organization of her shoe wall to make space for her new queen wardrobe that included royal isicholos and other accessories.

"I'm going to spend time with Lady Nakia and Prince Toussaint. Can you organize this without me today?" Yani asked.

Both women nodded, clearly aware that something bothered Yani. They helped her with a quick shower and provided her with a lovely draped wide-legged pantsuit in a rich eggplant color.

"Peplum blouse or a princess vest?" Ilana asked.

"The dark green peplum," Yani said.

A half hour later she was on her way with the children and all their Doras to see Nakia. Yani's years of keeping a neutral face around deadly killers proved invaluable to her. Nakia caught no hint of concern from her. Her eyes lit up in delight from the new gifts they brought for the baby and the children kept them all occupied with their need to hold Toussaint and fuss over him like a Christmas gift.

An impromptu tea party commenced and Yani did her part to look after all the royal heirs and Nakia. Two hours later, they all noticed the strange foreign aircraft being escorted past the palace.

N'Jadaka rang the alarm to have their foreign African guests escorted out of Wakanda. He assembled them all in the amphitheater seating of the War Hall after Shuri and T'Challa debriefed him with M'Baku listening.

The outsiders were warned of a national security breach. Not giving them a chance to question his intel, N'Jadaka left W'Kabi in charge of flying all their guests across their borders to various airports before shutting down their entire protective dome shield. No matter the global threat, the Avengers wanted to keep a low profile with the upcoming onslaught from the aliens they called The Black Order. Their leader, Thanos, rushed forward the intergalactic army, and N'Jadaka wanted the battle concentrated at one exact point south of the dome border. It was the best strategic location that would give Wakandans in the inner cities time to escape if there was a shield breach.

T'Challa and M'Baku met him at the Talon Port where a tracker beam held the Avengers aircraft in a holding pattern above the palace for its final security screening. The pilot, Sam Wilson followed instructions from the Wakandan Special Forces security team. T'Challa kept an open image of Steve Rogers and the other Avengers above his wrist. An entire regiment of Dora Milaje and the Onyx Squad surrounded them.

The Foreign aircraft floated down, its wings folding up to land near the king's entourage.

"Standby Shuri," N'Jadaka said.

A ramp lowered and Steve strode out to lead a ragtag group of exhausted Avengers. A white woman with chopped blonde hair matched Steve's pace.

"The Black Widow, Natasha," T'Challa whispered. "Dr. Bruce Banner…the Hulk—"

"Colonel James Rhodes," N'Jadaka said when he spotted Rhodey.

The former military officer blinked a few times when he recognized N'Jadaka. A pearly grin stretched his lips as he walked with Banner toward them.

"They call that one the Scarlett Witch…Wanda. That is Vision. You see?" T'Challa said.

"The mind stone they want us to remove," N'Jadaka said.

Steve reached out a hand to T'Challa and nodded at N'Jadaka.

"Seems like I'm always thanking you for something," Steve said.

Banner bowed to the king and attempted to get down on a knee. Rhodey looked aghast.

"We don't do that here," T'Challa said.

"But they should," N'Jadaka replied with a tinge of humor. "Let's go."

They followed N'Jadaka and T'Challa toward a half cruiser ready to whisk them away to Shuri's lab.

"How big of an assault are we looking at Rogers with this Black Order?" N'Jadaka asked.

"Massive," Banner said.

"How are we looking here?"

Natasha's nasally voice irritated N'Jadaka. He glanced back at her and T'Challa put some distance between her and him.

"You will have the Kingsguard, The Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and also Barnes," T'Challa said.

Bucky Barnes sauntered forward with the Kingsguard wearing a new Wakandan arm. He hugged Steve.

"How ya doin', Buck?" Steve asked.

"Not bad for the end of the world," Bucky said.

"Let's keep this reunion short. We have work to do," N'Jadaka ordered.

On the half cruiser, the Avengers sat wide-eyed staring at the world of Wakanda. Rhodey eased over to N'Jadaka.

"This is wild," Rhodey said. "I knew you were a different kind of cat back over in Gulmira, but I didn't think literally."

"Where's Stark?" N'Jadaka said.

Rhodey shrugged.

"So much has been going on full throttle. The Avengers are stretched thin. This is our last chance. If we can't shut them down here, it's over for us. Wherever Stark is, I'm sure he's working his ass off to find a solution to help us," Rhodey said.

"That's the least he could do. As much as he took from the world by helping to destroy it with greed, he owes some restitution."

"What about you? What do you owe the world with all the shit you've done after your time with Special Ops?"

"I owe nothing but a fist and the wisdom to know when to use it for my people, like now. I don't give a damn if these Avengers survive or not, as long as they hold the line for these aliens."

Rhodey's lips curled into a smirk.

"Yeah…they told me you were cold-blooded," Rhodey said.

Sam leaned forward in his seat from eavesdropping.

"Cold-blooded or not, we don't care about you either… as long as our alliance together saves everyone on earth."

The half cruiser swooped over a winding river that led toward Bashenga mountain. They flew over the Hall of Panthers, the new dome sparkling from the light of the golden Wakandan sun.

"All of this has been here for centuries?" Sam said.

"Longer than that," Rhodey quipped with awe in his voice.

"The motherland truly is the cradle of civilization," Sam said.

Sam's eyes appeared shiny as if he were about to weep at the lush futuristic scenery below him. Time wasn't wasted getting Vision to Shuri.

"Let's go! Move out of my way!" Shuri shouted at Natasha and Wanda who crowded Vision.

Shuri's medical team took Vision away and all the others followed with quick steps. She led them to a wide prepped medical bed near a giant window view of the gathering soldiers from Wakanda who lined up in strategic formation. N'Jadaka kept his arms folded near T'Challa.

"Stay back, please," Shuri told Wanda once more with irritation in her throat.

Banner was the only person Shuri kept close to the med bed. Conferring with Banner, Shuri ended her quick overview chat with a playful, "I'm sure you did your best."

N'Jadaka sensed her work would be slow-going and delicate. Shuri glanced at him.

"Give me as much time as you can," she said.

The confidence in her voice added a boost of hope to the others.

"I will give you the bare minimum," N'Jadaka said, "but if our line of defense is broken I need that stone destroyed immediately. I'm not risking all of my people and the diaspora for the feelings of one white woman and her robot boyfriend."

Shuri glanced over at Wanda. The so-called Scarlet Witch folded her arms and her thin lips became a pout.

"He's a sentient being with a right to life as any of us," Wanda spat out toward N'Jadaka.

He strode over to her.

"One life for billions is a fucked up trade-off," N'Jadaka said. "My children's lives are worth more, and I will end the life of anyone who risks theirs and others like them."

"I love him," Wanda said.

"And I love my children. You can cry all you want in front of all these people but this is my country and my cousin will do what I say. Her life is worth more too."

Shuri waved her hand over Vision's body and her kimoyo beads fed her the imaging she needed to process.

"I can do this, as long as I have time, cousin. He has about two trillion neurons…this will be delicate work. One misalignment and a cascade of circuit failure will end him."

Shuri looked at N'Jadaka and he shook his head.

"Time is not on your side."

The finality of his words forced a nod from Shuri. She jumped on her task and the other Avengers didn't look the king in the eye. They only gave anxious glances to Wanda and Vision.

"I have to meet with the Council of Elders and notify Wakandans for emergency preparedness. I'll catch up to you after I address the nation."

N'Jadaka turned to T'Challa.

"A quick word?" N'Jadaka said.

T'Challa followed him to a corner room.

"Do you want to see Nakia and Toussaint first? W'Kabi and Okoye can take the lead for now."

"I would like to do that, but as the Black Panther—"

"Man, fuck all that. You have a newborn. We are about to battle some unknown force. Ain't nothing promised to us."

T'Challa lowered his head and sighed. N'Jadaka gripped his shoulder.

"The world is on our shoulders. Let's go see our babies, Cuz."

T'Challa nodded.

"General Okoye, get the transport vehicles ready. We'll see you after my meeting," N'Jadaka said.

Okoye tapped her spear and led the Avengers away with the Dora Milaje. Wanda stood a proper distance from Vision as Shuri connected him to her computer interface.

The Council of Elders stood with N'Jadaka in the West Palace media room. He recited a prepared statement informing the public of an outside threat and that the nation was on high alert. Emergency responders were placed throughout key areas in the cities and Wakandans in more rural areas were transported to safer lodgings.

The royal family members were kept in the East Palace and N'Jadaka left T'Challa with Nakia and his son while he convened a final meeting with the council elders inside the throne room. He requested Yani by his side. She arrived dressed in a dark flowing dress with a cowrie shell head chain draped all around her scalp in the shape of the Northern Triangle, the oldest place in Wakanda. Her facial expression took on a serious countenance and she looked imposing walking up to her seat next to his throne chair. Ramonda sat on the other side of him with her hands folded on her lap. A bleak mood weighed down the air.

"What are our chances of defeating this Thanos?" M'Kathu asked.

"I was told he had a force made of aliens all across the galaxy. We won't know what we're truly up against until they arrive. They are honing in on Wakanda for the mind stone." N'Jadaka said.

"And you will kill the A.I. that houses it if Shuri fails?" Zinzi asked.

"Shuri will only fail if her time runs out. There are trillions of neuron links that make up Vision. She can save him, but half of all life in the universe will die if it doesn't happen before Thanos comes."

"You should destroy Vision now," Yani said.

The Council of Elders and Ramonda stared at her.

"Am I not allowed to speak freely here?" Yani asked, glancing about.

"Speak," N'Jadaka encouraged.

"Why wait? An army is coming here to wipe us out. When I was in St. Thomas and a man came to kill you and our child, I shot and killed him the moment I saw his eyes. One shot and we're alive because of that. I'm not a soldier, but even I had the good sense to act right then and there. We have something this alien wants and we should get rid of it. Him can't use his power without one lil stone…get rid of it before he comes here. He'll have to leave—"

"With all due respect, Princess Yani, we may still have to fight off an offensive attack. They may become enraged and decide to kill everyone on earth in anger or revenge for thwarting their plans. Either way, we are going to war," Bhira said.

Yani lowered her eyes to her lap and N'Jadaka reached over and squeezed her hand for support. He held pride in his chest that she asserted her viewpoint inside the throne room. The elders hearing she had killed a man without flinching had them glancing at her with new respect.

"The mind stone isn't the main one I'm worried about. He has another stone they say can reverse time. Even if we save Vision or destroy the mind stone, he can rewind everything back. We'll have to do a three-pronged attack. Destroy the mind stone, fight his army, and separate the time stone from him…besides killing him too."

N'Jadaka let the others take in his words and the gravity of their mission.

"As of now, the country is secure with defensive measures in place. We have the mountains and our underground caverns to relocate civilians if it all goes to shit," N'Jadaka said.

Zinzi stood up, glanced at the other elders, then faced N'Jadaka.

"Kumkani N'Jadaka, the Council of Elders wishes to ask that you remain in the palace during this time of foreign aggression. The Black Panther and Princess Shuri are using their talents to protect us on the battlefield, but we want the Golden Jaguar to protect the royal family and flee the territory if necessary to save the bloodline," Zinzi said.

Yani looked at him.

"Thank you for worrying about me and my family, but my talents are needed on the battlefield, too. A leader shouldn't sit back in the cut giving orders while others risk their lives—"

"You have nothing to prove to us. You are our warrior king and we want you here to lead evacuations and give our people hope of defeating this unknown terror," M'Kathu said.

N'Jadaka stepped down from the throne chair.

"I will lead the fight and return when needed," N'Jadaka said.

"As you wish, my king," M'Kathu said.

"We're done here. Everyone knows their orders. Return to the palace bunker," N'Jadaka said.

Efetobo rose from her seat and used her cane heavily to get to him.

"Wakanda Forever King N'Jadaka," Efetobo said.

Instead of making the symbol across her chest, she reached out and hugged N'Jadaka, her frail-looking arms carrying strength in them that filled his heart. When she released him, Ramonda did the same.

"You and T'Challa stay safe and give them hell!" Ramonda demanded.

"I will Auntie."

Zinzi pressed her forehead into his and prayed a few Wakandan scriptures of empowerment. Bhira and M'Kathu shook his hand afterward.

The Kingsguard escorted the elders and Ramonda out of the room. N'Jadaka reached for Yani and she took his hand, rising from her seat. He placed loving arms around her waist.

"I love how brave you appeared in front of them," he said.

He stroked her left eyebrow. Yani buried her face in his chest.

"I should feel more scared, but I'm not."

"Why not?"

She looked up at him.

"In a dream, Queen Mary said I was going to have more babies by you, and she can't be wrong. You can't die, not without me being pregnant. So…since there ain't no pickney in mi belly yet, you won't die."

He chuckled.

"My Mom told me the same thing after I ingested the heart-shaped herb again…about me having more babies. So if two ancestors told us that, then we're covered."

"Are you scared?"

"It's always tense before a battle."

"Not tense. Scared."

"My only fear is the potential amount of lives lost in Wakanda. Many died in the civil war I brought to them. Unfortunately, we're the only country that can even hold off a space army."

She glanced at her kimoyo.

"Riki and Sydette are here," she said, pulling him closer. Two Kingsguards opened the doors of the throne room and Nakia walked in with Toussaint wrapped against her chest. Sydette and Riki followed close by her.

"I came to wish you success," Nakia said.

The former War Dog had touches of pink in the whites of her eyes. She clung to Toussaint with protective hands that patted the bundle softly. N'Jadaka gave her a gentle hug and he stroked the silky smooth hair of the baby. He squatted down on one knee to be at eye level with his own children.

"Auntie Nakia and Mama will keep you all safe here, okay? I'm going to join Uncle T'Challa," he said.

"When will you be back?" Sydette asked.

Sweet Pea's large eyes haunted him. They had endured a dangerous separation before, but he needed to reassure her that he was coming back. He held her small hands in his big ones.

"I can't say for sure, but I will be close by."

"Can we watch you fight?" Riki asked.

"No, Lil Man, that wouldn't be a good idea. All the family will be here together and I'll have Noxolo and Aneka give you updates when I can."

Sydette threw her arms around him just as his kimoyos lit up with Disa's signature. He stood and tapped the beads. Disa and Joba's avatars floated in the middle for all of them to see.

"I'm glad I caught you," Disa said.

"I was going to contact you again," he said.

Disa had tremors in her voice. Joba studied him with calm assurance. His youngest could detect the even control of his tone.

"I want you and Joba to stay in New York until all of this is over. Nothing is happening yet, but I can't risk bringing you both back now."

"I get it, don't worry," Disa said.

Disa's eyes watered and she pushed her lips together.

"Disa… hey…don't worry about me."

"I'm afraid, Erik," Disa said.

N'Jadaka closed his eyes at the sound of his old name on her lips. Disa wiped her eyes and took a deep inhale to keep her voice steady.

"Adebiyi has been supportive and strong for us here, but I wish we could be with you and Yani…everyone. Dammit, I should've come home sooner."

"You were with family, Disa. Everything has been so uncertain and unpredictable. You have the best security team with you and I've already sent a half cruiser to stay offshore in case we need to evacuate you and your relatives. We'll keep you all informed of everything going on here," he said.

Joba hugged her mother and Adebiyi came into view.

"Watch over them for me, man," N'Jadaka said.

"Of course kumkani," Adebiyi said.

"Love you, baby girl," he said.

"I love you too, Baba," Joba said.

Disa held her hands under her chin trying to maintain her composure in front of Joba. Stress lines marred her face.

"Yani," Disa said.

Yani gave Disa a smile.

"Don't worry. We're all safe with N'Jadaka. Let's talk later when I get to the upper floors," Yani said.

The strength in Yani's voice helped Disa pull it together.

"It's hard not being there with all of you. Being far away magnifies everything. Just please be careful…all of you. As soon as it is safe to do so, bring us back," Disa said.

"We love you Umi Disa," Sydette said.

"I love you all, too. Be good for your Mama and don't run Grandpop ragged."

"We won't," Riki said with a mischievous grin.

"I can already tell that you're tricking me," Disa said.

Her mood lifted into higher spirits.

"We'll let you go. N'Jadaka…"

Disa couldn't get the words out. Her eyes told him she loved him instead.

"Love you back, Disa. Get some rest and keep the emergency lines open on all your kimoyos," he said.

Their images winked out.

"I'll take them up," Nakia said.

She let N'Jadaka hug Riki and Sydette, then led them away. Yani linked her arm in his, watching their children take solemn steps. His kimoyos lit up again with an emergency military signature. Okoye's avatar popped up.

"Kumkani, something has entered the atmosphere," Okoye said.

"On my way."

Yani hugged him tight.

"I have to go," he said.

He walked with her to the throne room's emergency departure Talon port. The Royal Talon Fighter floated down onto the secure platform and two Dora Milaje stepped out to escort him. Yani gripped his face and pulled his head down to her.

"Come back to me in one piece or else my old granny and your mother will come after you," she whispered.

Her sweet breath tickled his nose, her moist lips touching his lightly. He kissed her with tiny butterfly kisses before delving into her mouth with his tongue. She stroked his hair and he used the pads of his fingertips to touch her behind, holding back his desire to dig into the flesh more to stay with her.

"N'Jadaka, there are UAPs crashing into the dome shield," T'Challa said.

Yani broke away from him first and smoothed down the front of his shirt. She stepped back and he mentally commanded his Golden Jaguar suit to spread across his body.

"So handsome," Yani said. "Go on… king," she said.

He left her standing on the throne room port. The Talon Fighter darted across the sky and N'Jadaka scanned the puffy white clouds above.

The dome shield held up against the repeated slams of fireball explosives and more streaked down toward Wakanda all across the covering.

His first stop was checking in with the military strategists he hand-picked in a protected area behind the battle formation. General Sampha from the Border Tribe Army shook the king's hand and shared their battle plans on a floating table. The booming of projectiles striking the dome thundered above them.

"Kumkani, our dome shield is at one hundred percent. The weapons striking us are scanning the integrity of our protection, and the impact is growing stronger. How do you wish for us to proceed?" Sampha said.

Sampha's face carried a light sheen of sweat from the blazing sun and his eyes bulged a bit each time a projectile plummeted to earth and slammed into the dome as if he were annoyed by the audacity of aliens coming for Wakanda. Surliness in his voice gave N'Jadaka confidence that the Wakandans were about that smoke. Their military had trained for centuries for such an attack, even if it came from outer space.

N'Jadaka scanned their battle plans. Because these were not humans, the element of unknown factors had them at a disadvantage.

"The Dora Milaje are our most elite shock troops…close range warriors. We'll keep them at the front. I want more Jabari warriors fortifying the target area and a contingency in the capital near the palace."

The image of another drop ship landing outside the dome shook the ground with seismic force.

"Any sign of Thanos yet?" N'Jadaka asked.

"None," Banner answered.

"I don't like these small infantry formations here," N'Jadaka said, pointing to several gaps around the Avengers, "We're too exposed. I want skirmishers to harass and immobilize anything that may get through the wall."

General Sampha rubbed his chin while staring at the infantry.

"Fanning out into a long line makes it harder to flank us," Sampha said.

N'Jadaka pointed to a spot on the formation.

"It weakens the middle here. These fuckers traveled across galaxies that we never have. Ain't no telling what they have to break our lines."

N'Jadaka patted his shoulder.

"I'm not questioning your ability, Sampha. I'm thinking outside the box with the unknown."

The heads of the Navy and Airforce stood at attention awaiting more orders on their end.

N'Jadaka tapped a communicator on the war table.

"Rhodey… Wilson… I'll have the Wakandan airforce work with you inside and out of the barrier when attacks begin. Rhodey, I'm going to use you as an attack chopper, and Wilson, you'll help with the area of affect weaponry. You'll keep the explosives coming when necessary. General Lumumba and Lieutenant General Amilcar are patched into your communicators for commands."

"Roger that!" Both men answered simultaneously.

N'Jadaka worked on strategy and offensive measures with the leadership until the UAPs above them ceased falling. The suddenness unnerved them.

"I will go to T'Challa on the frontline."

"Wakanda Forever, kumkani!" the military heads barked out.

Two of his most menacing Doras waited for him inside the Royal Talon Fighter. They flew him to the battleground. He jumped down from Talon Fighter using its gravity tracker to slow him as he landed next to T'Challa on the battlefield.

"Ready?"

"Yes," T'Challa answered.

Rogers and the rest of the Avengers stood in a row staring up at the trees outside the shield that hid their enemy. M'Baku leaned toward N'Jadaka.

"We have already placed the Jabari warriors you asked to be stationed near Princess Shuri's lab for extra backup in case our line is broken. They have the vibranium shields you gave them activated," M'Baku said.

N'Jadaka shook his hand.

"We can't have them circling the dome. Keeping them here is the goal," N'Jadaka said.

N'Jadaka focused on the tree line outside of the dome again. The earth rumbled once more and giant triangular-shaped metal spheres rose up like hideous temples of doom.

"Bast protect us," T'Challa mumbled.

"Two of them are approaching the barrier," Okoye said.

N'Jadaka jerked his head toward T'Challa.

"Let's see how diplomacy works," N'Jadaka said.

T'Challa, Rogers, and Natasha followed him to the edge of the barrier. An alien three times N'Jadaka's size that looked like a badly rendered goblin waited with a female alien sporting horns and a dark persona. She had to be at least eight feet tall and slid a sword against the barrier. They were humanoid in nature and carried an erect stance of fearlessness. Their eyes locked and the killer in them both recognized the ferocity in the other. An unspoken understanding passed between them. It didn't matter that the creature before him came from a different galaxy across the universe. Game peeped game. Underneath the exterior, N'Jadaka sensed quiet respect. As a child of Ogum, he carried a fierce energy in his eyes. Before N'Jadaka could speak, Natasha glared at the aliens and taunted them.

"Where's your other friend?" she teased.

The female alien shifted her gaze from N'Jadaka to Natasha.

"You will pay for his life with yours."

The female alien turned back to N'Jadaka.

"Thanos will have that stone."

"Not on my watch as king," N'Jadaka said.

"What do they call you?"

"King N'Jadaka… son of Prince N'Jobu and Princess Califia. You?"

"Proxima Midnight. Prepare to be slaughtered."

"You are in Wakanda now," T'Challa interjected. "Thanos will have nothing but dust and blood."

Proxima smirked at the Black Panther.

"We…have blood to spare."

Proxima thrust her sword-holding arm into the air and the giant pyramid structures behind her rose higher from the ground.

"I guess it's on then," N'Jadaka said.

Proxima gave him a sardonic grin and he stomped back toward their line of defense. The tension of not knowing the terror they faced rippled along the soldiers behind N'Jadaka.

"As long as the barrier holds, we're good," N'Jadaka reassured everyone.

The ground shook, followed by clouds of dust outside the barrier announcing the start of the battle. T'Challa stepped forward and shouted "Yibambe!"

All the Wakandans repeated the words after him and N'Jadaka's chest swelled with emotion. He stood with his cousin to protect the world he had come to love. The land of his father. The dream of his mother.

"We defend this to the death!" N'Jadaka shouted. "Hold this line and don't let anything get through it!'

He strode to the front with arms outstretched showing off his claws and regarded the soldiers with blazing eyes.

"When Thanos comes, we must destroy the time stone so he can't reverse anything. Do you understand me?!" he shouted.

The others roared their understanding with weapons raised.

"Holy shit!"

Banner's voice broke through the shouting on their side. N'Jadaka studied the barrier and witnessed the ferocious creatures barreling toward war. Monstrous, six-limbed beasts with the shrieks of hell erupting from their throats.

Bast cooled his mind, and Ogum amped up his fighting spirit to the max.

The alien soldiers slammed their bodies into the barrier, killing themselves, but several were able to push through over the bodies of dead comrades who sacrificed themselves like fire ants crossing a river. Sam and Rhodey flew overhead to take care of the breach, dropping explosives that slowed a few enemies down.

"Shit, they're circling," Banner said.

"How do we stop that?" Rogers said.

The roar of Wakandan aircraft zoomed over the dome and took up battling the beasts outside of the barrier. Despite their exceptional attempts to corral the enemy in one spot, the swarm of alien fighters still overrode them by sheer numbers.

N'Jadaka glanced at T'Challa.

"We have to redirect their movement by making a kill zone," N'Jadaka said.

"I'll open the barrier and keep them at a distance," T'Challa said.

T'Challa touched his ear and spoke to Shuri.

"On my signal, open Northwest section seventeen," T'Challa commanded.

"Requesting confirmation on behalf of Princess Shuri…you said open the barrier?" A woman's voice asked, close enough for N'Jadaka to hear.

"Give him access and on his signal," N'Jadaka spoke into his own earbud.

M'Baku gave N'Jadaka a look of worry. Okoye threw back her shoulders in anticipation.

The barrier opened and the aliens poured in. Wilson flew out to engage behind the barrier with the Wakandan forces.

"Wakanda Forever!" N'Jadaka shouted.

He ran forward and the Talon Fighter's gravitational tracker beam snatched him up in the air.

"You two, go fight with the Black Panther," N'Jadaka ordered.

His Doras jumped down through the tracker beam and he took control of the Talon Fighter, sending down a torrent of firepower to kill monsters. Down below, his cousin took hits to build up kinetic energy and blasted creatures while the Avengers dug into the trenches of war.

He provided long-range support with Rhodey creating a large damage area around the point of impact that pushed back on the hordes bursting through despite their best efforts. Outside the dome, Wilson and the Wakandan Air support were effective in bypassing their line of sight beyond the trees. The outriders began to bunch up around the gap they opened. Their incredible speed became dangerous as they charged inside.

"Fuck! This is straight-up melee combat. Keep them from that defensive line at all costs!" N'Jadaka said.

Okoye's voice crackled in his ear.

"We can't mitigate the power of their charge, kumkani. We are expert close-range fighters but there are just too many of them."

"Second string is on the way, General," W'Kabi interjected.

N'Jadaka watched from the sky as new shock troops converged on the sides in full-body vibranium shields, battling through the trees, keeping the beasts at bay.

"Shuri, progress check," N'Jadaka said.

"Still slow-going. I have just cracked the outer core and can begin the real work," Shuri said with a strained tone of work under pressure.

The Avengers fought valiantly below him and he provided cover and long-range firepower. He fought the temptation to fly outside the barrier because the teeming hordes still overwhelmed the shock troops. Luckily, the first wave of enemy combatants were simple-minded creatures, full of snarling rage and not much else. There was no planned intelligence in their fighting strategy other than running over them.

"Keep them from the capital!" he shouted, flying after outriders who broke past the line.

Yani paced in front of Nakia.

Ilana and Zola scurried about organizing emergency clothing and assisted Nakia's nanny with Toussaint's extra diapers and blankets for travel. Noxolo sent word that the royal family was to be moved to the top floor of the East Palace where the structure could detach and fly off to safety elsewhere. Yani had hoped they wouldn't have to move from Nakia's suite because it told them all that the battle had grown worse than expected and N'Jadaka wanted them on standby evacuation.

Sydette held Toussaint while Nakia used a breast pump to extract milk for her son. Riki leaned against a wall window, watching for any signs of his father of T'Challa.

"I can smell smoke, Mama," Riki said.

Yani sniffed. The air filter pumped in outside air and the acrid stench of something metallic and burning wafted in.

"Shelter Griot, switch to indoor filtered air," Yani commanded.

"Yes, Princess Yani," a female-coded A.I. answered.

Within minutes, the burning smell disappeared.

"Yani, it's Queen Ramonda," Nakia said, holding up her wrist.

Ramonda's avatar shimmered in vivid colors.

"Baba Z and Umama are resting finally. I made them some tea with x'tin leaves added. They should sleep for the next few hours. They have asked that all of you come to the Jabari mountains at once. Dante and Marisol arrived with Tywla and Bibi," Ramonda said.

"I would like to stay here until we hear word from T'Challa and N'Jadaka's team," Nakia said.

"We want our grandchildren and great-grandchildren here with us. There is a half cruiser on standby."

Ramonda's terse tone left no room for arguing.

"Queen Ramonda, N'Jadaka has this shelter programmed to fly to St. Thomas," Yani said.

"Out of Wakanda?"

"Yes."

Ramonda gazed at Toussaint in Sydette's arms.

"I hate that the last few generations of Udaku children have witnessed nothing but war and family disruption."

"I understand Queen Mother, but we are together in this. What we are experiencing is an external threat…but one that unites us," Nakia said.

Yani's kimoyo lit up.

"I'll take this in another room," Yani said.

Sliding a bedroom door open, she dipped in and tapped her beads. Disa's image filled the room in life-size 3D seated in a chair.

"Hey," Disa said.

"We've moved to the emergency transport shelter in the palace."

"No word on how bad it is?"

Yani shook her head. Disa fretted.

"I keep praying and trying to stay positive. N'Jadaka and T'Challa's kimoyos let us know that they're alive, but that's it. I wasn't going to call but it's been hours now and the stress of not knowing anything is eating me up. All the media I can track in Wakanda here only plays emergency broadcasts commanding citizens to stay sheltered and on alert. No sirens have rung out in the city so that's a good sign, I guess," Disa said.

"So far."

"You look calm, though."

Yani sat on a bed.

"Do you believe in long gone relatives speaking to you?" Yani asked.

"Yes…like in my dreams. Sometimes my father comes to me. I wake up feeling like he's still here. Why?"

"I had a dream that my grandmother from way back…Queen Mary…came to me. She told me I had to stand tall with N'Jadaka… that I had to be fierce. Her say my future is important with him. It was real to mi. This war is only a test for us, so I'm not afraid of him dying in it. He won't. The worry I feel is for the people around him...and what we'll face as a nation when this is over."

"Hmmm, I wish my daddy would come to me in a dream like that!"

They shared soft laughter together.

"I can see that you believe what she said, so I will believe it too," Disa said.

"I'm glad you believe me. Some people get scared of spiritual stuff or think it's wish-fulfillment. I just have to be patient and pray that this war comes to an end soon."

"How is Nakia and the children?"

"Hanging in there. All the grandparents want us up in the Jabari mountains."

"Honestly, if I were there, that's the place I'd want to be."

Disa crossed her leg and grinned.

"What?" Yani asked.

"Adebiyi wants me to move to the mountains after we come back. Not moving in together, but me being closer to him."

"Do you want to?"

"I think the change in scenery is needed for me and Joba. I love the Golden City with all my heart, but being away has given me time to think about you and N'Jadaka. You two need space. I don't think Joba and I should be living up under your new household."

"But I don't want you to leave!"

The yelp in Yani's voice caught Disa by surprise.

"It's not a bad thing, Yani."

"We started this messy journey together and we'll finish it together. You're my big sister in so many ways, and this new life…you're a part of that. The Jabari mountains are so far, and our children need to be together," Yani said.

"The mountains are not that far with our transports. You'll have Joba every weekend…that's three days a week mind you, and I'm going to be in and out of the city for my company. I'll be there all the time."

"It won't be the same."

"You survived when you left the palace mad at me," Disa teased.

"That was different. I still missed you…I needed time away to grow up… to clear my head and realize how foolish I was being with you and myself."

"The change will be good for all of us, and who knows, it may not be permanent. I want to try it out and see where it takes me and Adebiyi."

"You're in love," Yani said.

The glow was all over Disa's face.

"I do love him… and he loves me."

Disa's eyes shined and Yani welled up for her.

"This life has been so crazy for me, Yani. I have no regrets about anything."

"Me neither."

"Really?"

"Not anymore. Seeing my great-great-grandmother…hearing her voice…seeing her…I know there are things that are beyond my comprehension, but I'm surrounded by loving people now. Like you."

"I'm glad you became my little sister. You, Marisol, and Twyla are as close to me as my best friends here in the States. Truth be told, the three of you have actually been closer because of your connection with N'Jadaka."

"We've both grown up a lot in two years."

"A long ass two years!'

Yani giggled.

"Allah will protect us all," Disa said.

Yani crinkled her nose with a thought.

"What are you thinking?" Disa asked.

"Wakanda has faced aggression four times in thirty years. I don't think they're built for civil and foreign fighting constantly. They've been a utopia for a long time and mentally, I don't know if it'll be easy for them to pick up the pieces without a national therapy session after all of this."

"They have N'Jadaka to show them the way back…and you. Remember, you spun a lost straw man back into gold. If you did that for our king, you'll have no problem doing it for the nation. I believe in you, little sister!"

Disa winked at her.

"I'll let you go. Joba and Adebiyi are going for a walk in Central Park with me. The weather is nice and I have to get out of this hotel for an hour at least. Fresh air will do me good."

"Have a nice time. I'll contact you as soon as I get any news from the front lines."

They blew kisses to one another and the call ended.

Yani wandered over to the bedroom window and tracked the placement of the sun. It would make the slow, downward trek into sunset within an hour. She turned to walk back into the living room when erratic booming noises shook the windows. Touching the nearest window, she sucked in a breath watching flames rise inside gargantuan plumes of black smoke racing to blot out the sky. The windows rattled again before a secondary protective vibranium barrier swarmed over the palace exterior, shielding them from the noise of seismic rumbles. Her heart lurched in her chest.

Yani noticed the wide darting movements of fighter drones flying through the pitch blackness blanketing the trees in the royal garden. The war had moved further inland and the drones were sent to reinforce the palace defense forces. If she could see it close from the east palace windows, the Wakandan defense line had been broken, and the enemy was near.

Racing into the living room, she joined Nakia who pulled the children closer to her on the couch. Riki jumped on her lap and Sydette handed Toussaint back to Nakia who tucked her breasts back into a nursing bra and covered the baby up. Ilana and Zola dashed into the room and waved for them to follow their lead.

Zola clasped Yani's hand and Sydette's while Ilana lifted Riki into her arms.

"We have to go into the flight room," Zola said. "Aneka is waiting for word from the king. Noxolo will detach us from the palace if he says it's time to leave."

"Are we losing?" Yani asked.

"I don't know, but we were ordered to stand by."

"Is Baba coming?" Sydette asked.

"I don't know, Sweet Pea."

Yani wore a brave face and pushed back on doubting Queen Mary.

The barrage of creatures lunging through the narrow opening of section seventeen overwhelmed the northwest defense. Even the once-missing Asgardian Thor couldn't help stop the influx of diverse creatures spilling through the narrow gauntlet into Wakanda. Several Avengers had left the interior of the barrier to destroy the spacecraft that brought the aliens in on the outside.

N'Jadaka settled his mentally tired body on the crest of a hill near Shuri's lab. T'Challa insisted that he fall back to give strategic support in their dwindling and scattered formation. He spent the last hour circling the forces with the Talon Fighter outside the breach, providing extra firepower for the secondary Border Tribe troops led by W'Kabi. Okoye's estranged husband proved to be a superior officer and ground fighter. The Border Tribe shields helped prevent the aliens from overtaking their offensive measures outside, but even then, a few enemies slipped through that N'Jadaka handled from the sky. He programmed the Talon Fighter to protect the lab from the air while he stomped on the ground searching for breakthroughs to kill.

"Shuri! Tell Wanda to end Vision now! They've got these giant fucking wheel machines tearing up the ground out here! They busted up under the barrier and we can't control the entry point anymore!" he shouted into his kimoyo.

"Fall back! Fall back!" T'Challa shouted in N'Jadaka's earbud.

N'Jadaka scanned the area below watching helplessly as the wheels razed the dark rich earth of Wakanda in the destruction. The enemy's power and weapons were too numerous to overcome. Giving Shuri time to save Vision had been a grave mistake. One that could cost his children's lives. The faces of Sydette, Riki, Joba, and baby Toussaint flashed across his mind.

"I'm going to keep trying, N'Jadaka, there's some progress," Shuri said, still hopeful.

"Time is up! I will come up there and rip it out of his skull myself!"

The horrendous crashing noises of the wheels forced N'Jadaka to charge toward Border Tribe soldiers positioned in front of him. If Thanos didn't come soon, there wouldn't be enough warriors to face him. Perhaps that was his plan overall.

"Get those wheels down!" he ordered, charging forward to help.

Wanda streaked overhead with bursts of crimson energy shooting out of her fingertips like lightning strikes. She lifted a linked row of earth-killing wheels and threw them on top of enemy combatants.

Ayo's voice broke through the chatter of N'Jadaka's earbud.

"We're being attacked inside the lab!" Ayo grunted.

"Shuri, get out of there!" T'Challa said.

N'Jadaka ran back up the hill toward the lab.

"Shuri, I'll be there soon!" N'Jadaka panted.

His suit provided him with a concentrated sip of electrolytes, refreshing his dehydrated muscles as he lunged forward.

"Shuri?!"

Panic lodged in his throat when his cousin didn't answer back right away. The crashing of glass and yelling drew his attention high above the trees that surrounded the lab. Two figures tumbled across the uneven sides of the building's roof. Vision held an alien by the throat.

"Vision is outside the lab!" he shouted.

"On my way!" Banner answered.

N'Jadaka's kimoyos showed him Shuri's vitals were fine. Her crumpled form and Ayo's were on the floor of the lab. He leaped up the side of the building and jumped through the gaping hole in the glass where Vision crashed through.

"Hey lil cuz," N'Jadaka said.

He lifted Shuri's head. She moaned and reached for her forehead where a bruised purple lump rose.

"Vision?" she asked.

"Fighting an alien."

"I wasn't done with him."

"Too late for that."

Ayo shook off the blow to her midsection. Her hands and face bled from cuts protecting Shuri. N'Jadaka reached for her and helped her up.

"Get Shuri to the palace shelter. Once you arrive, wait for my command to leave for St. Thomas. Got it?"

"Yes, kumkani," Ayo said.

"St. Thomas? N'Jadaka, no, I need to be here to help you and T'Challa."

Shuri plucked glass shards from her clothes and picked some embedded into her bleeding palm. He helped remove pieces from her hair.

"I promised Umama to get you out of here if it got bad," he said.

"Well, how bad is it? Is Thanos here?"

"No, but—"

A shiver went through N'Jadaka's body. Beyond a sensory overload, his entire form tensed involuntarily afterward, and his gaze ratcheted toward the busted lab window. Something new had arrived on Earth.

"Ayo, take her…go…go!"

Shuri gleaned from his tone and his eyes that things were about to go left. She hugged him tight.

"Watch out for my brother… no matter what…stay with him," Shuri murmured into his ear.

Ayo tugged on Shuri's arm. A quad stinger aircraft flew down to the shattered window and the Dora guided Shuri inside of it. They took off, and N'Jadaka watched it zip across the sky heading for the rest of the Udaku progeny. He tapped a kimoyo and the Royal Talon Fighter swooped past the building sideways. He leaped toward the tracker beam that delivered him inside of it.

N'Jadaka took over manual flying and jetted across the trees toward the biting sensation that quaked down in his bones. Eventually, the sensation fanned out to a low hum in his inner ear that grew in pressure. He hovered above Wanda who knelt beside Vision resting against a felled tree trunk. Banner jumped into view with his iron suit and N'Jadaka waited for something to materialize on his viewscreen.

T'Challa waved up to him.

"I'll back you up," N'Jadaka said.

"It's him!" Banner yelled.

A greenish-blue gas shimmered like an aurora borealis and a giant purple man stepped into their world. N'Jadaka assumed Thanos opened a powerful wormhole and expected more soldiers to spill out. Instead, the bald giant sauntered in alone.

Thanos hadn't taken two steps to start any shit yet and N'Jadka shot sonic vibranium blasters targeting the infinity gauntlet.

"Get that fucking glove off him!"

N'Jadaka's orders set everyone in motion. T'Challa clawed Thanos's neck to distract him as Banner grabbed for the gauntlet. Thanos flicked T'Challa away like a bothersome gnat and tossed Banner into a great stone mound that his iron suit went right through like it was Casper the friendly ghost.

Rogers and Bucky double-teamed next while Wanda threw crimson fire into Thanos's face. The Infinity Gauntlet gave him tremendous strength and they were clearly no match for him. Even his skin seemed impenetrable to any firepower.

"Wanda, destroy the stone!" T'Challa shouted.

Wanda stood frozen staring at her lover. She threw her left hand out forming a fiery red swirling barrier against Thanos. T'Challa scrambled to grab at the gauntlet with Rogers pulling on Thanos's other arm.

"Bitch, if you don't blast him!" N'Jadaka thundered at Wanda.

He lowered the Talon Fighter and aimed his sonic blasters at Vision's head, shooting off three rounds that hit the A.I. being with bull's eye precision in the center of his forehead. Vision's skull exploded and the glowing gold mind stone floated in the air.

"Destroy it!" T'Challa yelled.

The shock of N'Jadaka's killshot paralyzed Wanda. Instead of finishing the job as planned, she dropped to her knees and grappled with holding what was left of Vision. The king of Wakanda would've killed her too for being a useless soldier wasting time, however, she jumped to her feet and used her right hand to blast the stone with her powers while using her other hand to keep a shield up separating Thanos from it.

"T'Challa, we have to get the time stone away from him!"

His cousin was already in motion taking advantage of Wanda's glowing shield keeping Thanos at bay as she worked on the mind stone. Bucky jumped onto Thanos's neck using his legs to choke him. T'Challa yanked on the gauntlet with Rogers. Victory looked promising once Thor slammed his hammer into Thanos's chest. T'Challa grabbed for the time stone.

The mind stone lit up into a brilliant, growing blaze of gold power, shattering into bits that precipitated a blinding explosion with a mile-wide radius. The force of the explosion jostled the Talon Fighter.

Their combined efforts weren't enough.

N'Jadaka's heart dropped. Thanos snapped his fingers and a sickening feeling of déjà vu pressed the king's attention into a tiny pinprick. His hands waved over the control panels of the Talon Fighter, and down below he watched Wanda hold off Thanos with both hands. Vision rose to his knees and begged Wanda to kill him. N'Jadaka shook his head, the cool creeping dread of uncertainty washing over him. Hadn't he blasted Vision already to get Wanda on task? Why was he still alive?

T'Challa, Rogers, and Bucky jumped him, but Thanos flung them far away. Too far to get back to him quickly. Something in N'Jadaka's gut told him that was wrong, and he couldn't fathom the eerie sameness flooding his cortex that edged around the wrongness of the situation.

"Bitch, if you don't blast him!" N'Jadaka thundered to Wanda.

Wanda reacted like the situation was odd for her too, but she stared at Vision and began blasting the mind stone. N'Jadaka left the Talon Fighter on automatic pilot and pounced down from the ship's neon blue tracker beam aiming to land on the purple menace himself. He glanced over at Wanda and—

The fuck?

Another Thanos knocked Wanda aside and ripped the mind stone from Vision's forehead. N'Jadaka glanced back down at the ground that rushed toward him, and the second Thanos that looked up at him grinned, then faded away into nothingness, the illusion so real that N'Jadaka felt the shadow cross over his body as he landed with cat-like reflexes. He ran toward the real Thanos like the devil was on his heels. Thanos slipped the mind stone into its place on the gauntlet, even as Thor's hammer sliced through his chest.

"What did you do? What did you do?!" Thor shouted to Thanos.

White smoke puffed around the Infinity Gauntlet which had a burnt and tarnished look to it despite the gleam of the stones themselves.

A wormhole opened with the same greenish-blue smoke Thanos arrived in. It sucked him backward with a rush of air and he disappeared, like a kimoyo avatar winking out. Thor's hammer was no longer lodged in his chest and fell with a thud when the wormhole closed.

Sound left Wakanda.

The quiet drowned out the quick steps of T'Challa joining him.

"Where is he?" T'Challa said.

N'Jadaka shook his head in dismay, uncertain of the moment they were in.

"Is it over?" Okoye asked.

She darted out of the brush surrounding them and T'Challa patted her shoulder.

Wanda wept over Vision. Everyone else looked around bewildered and catching their breath.

"Where'd he go? Thor? Where'd he go?" Rogers asked, holding his busted side with blood pooling on his lip.

Thor only glanced around confused, in a daze like they all were. Okoye dropped down to her rump and gave a weary groan. N'Jadaka looked over the area, uneasy, and sensed the crackling of energy that made him feel off-kilter again.

Bucky stepped forward, staring at his left hand.

"Steve?" Bucky croaked before looking up at all of them.

His left hand became a dark gray blob of smoke that flaked away from his body like campfire ash with his legs following suit. He flopped down onto his face and disintegrated right before them.

"Shit!" N'Jadaka hissed.

They all jumped away like a contagion had been let loose, and clearly, it was because screams rippled across the battlefield. T'Challa reached for Okoye to get her off the ground.

"Up general, this is no place to die," T'Challa said.

Okoye reached for his arm and N'Jadaka's.

"Cuz," N'Jadaka said.

T'Challa's hand that held Okoye's arm turned into dark smoke too and flaked away slowly.

"N'Jadaka," T'Challa said, his eyes wide with fear.

"No…"

N'Jadaka tried to embrace T'Challa to hold him close, to never let him go, but he drifted away on ash and dry wind.

True fear gripped him then. This was how the world ended for half of the universe. A sad floating away in the deepest, quietest, black void. N'Jadaka tapped his kimoyo.

"Close section seventeen."

No one answered him.

"Barrier team, I said close section seventeen!"

A frightened voice answered.

"Kumkani…we are experiencing an anomaly…people are disappearing. I will close the barrier," a man said.

All around them, pieces of dark ash floated, choking the air with grief and shock. N'Jadaka grabbed Okoye's arm and the Talon Fighter pulled them up into its belly. The general took over flying manually and they both scanned the battlefield as bewildered soldiers gawked at people floating away in pieces.

"This cannot be…this cannot be…" Okoyo moaned.

Aliens that hadn't succumbed to the vanishing ran toward their spacecraft and flew away, leaving destruction in their wake.

"Kumkani, I'm ordering soldiers back to our barracks to regroup. Are you and the Black Panther alright?" W'Kabi asked.

"T'Challa is gone!" Okoye wept.

Her voice carried sadness and relief that W'Kabi was still on earth.

"W'Kabi, we'll meet you ten minutes at the regrouping coordinates. We need a muster roll immediately," N'Jadaka said.

His kimoyo lit up. Yani's signature. He exhaled and kept his composure. She was still with him. He tapped another bead to reach Disa.

"Yani, are you and the kids okay?"

The tone of his voice scared Yani. Her image hovered in the air.

"Some of the staff are gone…I don't know what happened to them…"

Sydette shrieked and N'Jadaka thought he would fall through the Talon Fighter.

"Mama! The guard turned into dust!" Sydette cried.

"N'Jadaka, what's happening?" Yani said.

"I can't say for sure yet but the fighting is over. Is Riki okay? Nakia and the baby?"

"We are all here. Is T'Challa with you?" Nakia asked. Her image appeared next to Yani's.

"I'm sorry Nakia…he disappeared in front of me and Okoye."

"No…"

Nakia covered her mouth. Toussaint was tied around her chest.

"We don't know what has happened to them all, Nakia," Okoye said.

"Is he dead?" Nakia said.

"I don't know," N'Jadaka said.

Shuri's signature lit up his kimoyo and he added her to their call. She looked distraught and teary-eyed.

"My mother told me that Baba Z and Marisol are gone. Most of their staff are gone too. Everyone else is still there in their household. Dante, Twyla, and Bibi are all safe," Shuri said.

"Everyone stay put. Okoye and I are going to meet with our military heads who survived this. I'll convene a meeting with the Council of Elders once I have more intel on what we're looking at nationwide. The outside is doing the same thing, so we can focus on us for now…"

Nakia broke down and Yani held her up.

"Yani, have Noxolo and Aneka take Nakia to the Jabari mountains to be with Auntie Ramonda and Umama. I may not be back tonight, so don't wait up for me with the children."

Yani closed her eyes and touched her lips before she spoke to him.

"N'Jadaka…have you checked on Disa and Joba?" Yani asked.

N'Jadaka glanced at his beads. Disa hadn't responded to his call.

"I'm trying to reach them now. Please, everyone, stay strong and together," N'Jadaka said.

He ended the call and frantically typed on his kimoyo.

He couldn't reach Disa or Joba.

Part 2 of Chapter 74 (Finale) HERE.

Apologies for having to break this up. Tumblr said it went over the limit!

#Black Boys Bloom Thorns First Volume 4 #Black Panther Fanfiction #killmonger fanfiction #wakanda forever #Namor #Youtube

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memento-morri-writes · 9 months ago

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hi !! I was wondering if you have any dnd characters you wanna talk about :) (in response to ur tags on my post)

ARE YOU KIDDING ME, OF COURSE I DO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this is going under the cut because I talk too much!

So, the love of my fucking life is my swashbuckler rogue, Rook. (art of him here and here.) He has a very, very fucked up backstory, which I talked about here. (mind the tws on that post.)

I posted several snippets of the prose version I did of my favorite session I've ever played with him here. (again, mind the tws.) (I will gladly share the link to that entire doc if anyone wants to read it, as I'm very proud of it.)

But to be brief, he's the bastard son of a nobleman who's father hated him. He ran away from home as a teen, booked it to the nearest port town, and joined the crew of a pirate ship, captained by a woman named Zara. She was his mentor for YEARS and taught him everything. She also gifted him his magic rapier.

He got named first mate, which some people took issue with since he was one of the youngest crew members. They betrayed him and kidnapped him, giving him to rival pirate captain Kora Wolf, who kept him prisoner for two years before he was able to escape.

He ran away and entered the Feywild and was hiding there for several months before he was recruited by the party.

Currently, my poor man is having a terrible time. Two of the his party members are close with Captain Wolf, and one of them bought her lies about Rook, and now doesn't trust him. On top of this, he's been cursed by a demon lord, which is currently affecting him by not letting him sleep, partly due to terrible nightmares.

He's a super interesting character because on one hand he's very paranoid and mistrusting (especially now with his lack of sleep), but he also has never been shown much kindness in life, and it doesn't take all that much for him to be willing to die for you. He's incredibly reckless and will dive into dangerous situations without a second's thought, especially to save his friends. He joined a pirate crew because he was terrified of getting stuck in one boring place, and that says a lot about him. He idolizes Zara, and I have NO IDEA how he'll react when he meets her again, since he never got to say goodbye and has changed so much in the nearly 3 years since he saw her. Our party's gunslinger lowkey adopted him, and after the scene I linked above, he told someone "I missed having someone to take care of." which almost broke me.

As you can tell, I'm obsessed with this man, and I love making his life miserable. But don't worry, he'll get his happy ending. I have plans for an Inigo Montoya-style revenge duel between him and Wolf, and it's gonna be great.

My other current character is Cyra (she/they), a fire genasi barbarian/fighter. She was raised by a cult-like warband following the destruction of her hometown as a child. Later, she ended up falling in "love" with the daughter of the leader, and having a very toxic, fucked-up relationship with her. She eventually realized how bad her situation was, and realized there was no saving her gf or changing her mind, so she ran off, stealing a sand skiff as she left. They're currently becoming buddies with our party rogue, which was completely unexpected to all of us, players and characters. Last session we left off mid-combat with undead pirates in attempts to get some cursed treasure. Oh, and they have a flaming metal quarterstaff that they can summon by pulling it out of their chest. Which a major villain (who happens to be the rogue's ex-wife) wants so badly she tried to rip it out of Cyra's chest...

As for other characters, I have some very, very fun concepts for a few, including:

Zenara (they/them): tiefling warlock who was an accidental mix of a bunch of character from Critical Role Campaign 2. Occasionally gets possessed by their patron and wakes up with no memories of the shit they've done.

Avra: shadar-kai/reborn assassin who should be dead, but woke up somehow "alive" again after a mission gone wrong.

Morana: character for a future pathfinder game that will happen someday. Autistic necromancer witch with a raven familiar. Creepy as hell and very morbid. No empathy and very practical, to a degree that other people occasionally find disconcerting. Exiled from her hometown for graverobbing and necromancy. Apprenticed under a guy who turned himself into a lich.

I have literally over 30 other character concepts, but most of them are not well-developed, and this post is already WAY too long.

Now, PLEASE, TELL ME EVERYTHING. I wanna hear about your characters!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! how long have you been playing? what's your favorite class? Tell me all about your fucked up little guys!!!

#transmasc-wizard #morrigan replies #morrigan plays dnd #dnd #thank you SO MUCH for asking me about my special interest aksdjaksdjaskdj. I'm SO SORRY about how long this is.

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allsoftinsiide · 1 month ago

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- ̗̀ ( cis woman, she/her ) ̖́- ⎯ amiria hall has been an austin resident for ten years . the forty eight year old is an owner of treasure trove in atx . residents of garden views say that amiria is nurturing , but can also be sensitive . [ a cup of tea at 3.a.m, the need to fill silence with speech, texting someone multiple times if they haven’t responded, flowing garments ] + kate, 26, gmt, she/her

mentions: mental illness, psychosis, mental breakdown, abuse

amiria, the second child of a woman that already had a daughter. her parents weren't the best of friends and it was a situation-ship that quickly fell apart. it was agreed that her father would take her and raise her. she wouldn't really feel rejected by her mother until much later on, when her sister would much later on. there would be a jealousy but admiration for her sister and that would be one that couldn't be tainted.

she was always a creative child, one described as having too much of an imagination. amiria always preferred fiction over fact, playing different people and would try to put on a show to her father but he never seemed to be bothered. if anything, it made him less interested in her because he saw her as someone who'd grow to like theatres and musicals - he hated those kind of people.

school was something she'd always wanted to do well in, she tried but was easily distracted by others. amiria was one to always be easily influenced by her peers. she was intelligent but as soon as she learnt that getting full marks on tests would leave to incessant teasing, she'd get things wrong on purpose to 'balance herself out'. despite her need to be in a creative environment, to stand out, she wanted to fit in.

that was no different when her father finally let her join an amateur dramatics group. if he were to be truthful, he loved her singing voice but anything else wasn't for his ears. she loved being on stage, the idea of it but when it came down to it, she'd bottle all of it. still, she stuck with it. leaning more towards theatre and plays was a challenge in itself, the very friends that she'd made my losing those marks on tests icing her out because she was 'odd' or a 'theatre kid'. her father was telling her to be one way and her peers another - it was extremely confusing for her sense of self. her sister, kora, didn't help with that.

there would be many nights where she'd completely break, either going off on tangents about things she believed were happening or just uncontrollably crying. her family wasn't equipped to deal with it and frankly, they didn't want to. she wasn't 'strong' therefore she was an embarrassment. even her sister stopped talking to her because people were beginning to talk. it didn't take much for amiria to highlight herself as the common denominator in these scenarios. she was begging kora to take her back, that she was sorry, that she'd do better but there was an extreme wedge between them. it became more apparent when her sister became a mother and she didn't want her there because she didn't trust her...

her teachers were concerned about her as her grades were dropping considerably, she was distracted all of the time and she couldn't sleep. it was getting worse and her own family was just letting her implode. if it weren't for one of her father's friends, she would have imploded entirely. the woman tried to get her on track as much as possible, even encouraged her to apply to study abroad because she knew she was built for better things but in reality, her mental health was suffering and she needed an out.

that support would go leaps and bounds. amiria would audition and be accepted to drama school in the usa, the woman would also pay for her to do a business course at the same time in case it failed - she'd set her up for success as much as she could. for a few years she would make it and start building herself up as a stage actor. she'd made it and that made her elated. there was a lot of pressure, there was bound to be but she felt like she could handle it. she was having difficulty with the harsh criticism but most of it was all in her head.

the woman was always someone to take care of other cast and crew members but as she spiralled, she seemed to drop that role completely. it all came to a head on a night out when she'd not been making any sense, that she was suspicious of all of them plotting her downfall and the night ended up with her in the emergency room.

it was the night that highlighted she needed help after suffering with an undiagnosed mental illness for years. after a brief stint in inpatient care, she went to live with one of the crew members she'd become close to in austin. her run in the production was over and her understudy took her place without a hitch. they helped her get back on her feet, even helped her with her application to become an artistic director - it was successful. then, she felt like a little was missing - the space now called treasure trove was bought on a whim, something that wasn't really thought out, perhaps an impulsive purchase but it was her own little project that made sure that she didn't lose touch with people, to keep her grounded and it worked for her. there was a worry that she was doing too much but she seemed to thrive on it. now, it's her full time job but sees it more as a hobby.

she wants to be liked and it's so obvious. she tries to be kind, to the point where she could be described as a door mat and also quickly attaches herself to people. she tries to be a good friend but can be Too Much sometimes.

#atxfm:intro #mental illness tw #mental health tw #psychosis tw #abuse tw #intro: amiria.

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junebluues · 4 months ago

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vera i think is gonna be one of the more interesting characters for me to write out of the group. i’m kind of really excited to share her arc with ellie and the others because her personality took the longest to solidify in my head and i have thought about her a LOT when the power went out.

about vera (she/her)

her guardian’s name is guardian kora. green and elegant, with limbs closely resembling the leaves of a spider plant. they have multiple eyes scattered across their body.

vera is calm, nurturing, and kind. she is the oldest of all the pet humans of guardian kora and took care of them all since she was a child. she took on the role of a mother when guardian kora could not.

she was adopted when she wasn’t in the best condition, guardian kora gave her a sort of “rags to riches” backstory.

she’s a good singer, with good visuals. other than that and her charming personality… things get a bit iffy.

she is a mother/big sister figure to many of kora’s pet humans. she can care for many people and is sympathetic to all.

vera easily trusts others, but she only has a few close friends because despite her motherly attitude, she actually has a low social battery. she tires quickly and tends to sleep a lot.

she gives good constructive criticism and is probably the best person to ask if you need help on improving one of your skills. she isn’t too harsh or too soft in giving advice.

vera’s relationship with guardian kora is mixed. she likes the opportunities she’s been given because of kora, but she doesn’t like the fact that she had to take care of a bunch of kids on her own while kora lived as a sort of influencer.

vera is fond of fashion, crocheting, knitting, embroidery, you name it. she likes to make clothes for others as well as herself.

she’s an average student, even though she really aims for the top. she sometimes finds herself disappointed because of this.

vera cares a lot about her appearance and hates looking bad in front of others. she is all about good first impressions and takes care not to let her insecurities show.

vera often pushes herself to her own limits to do better.

ellie is her best friend.

#alien stage oc #alnst oc #alnst oc: vera

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 5 days ago

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𓅨 Love in the Dark: Chapter Sixteen

Love in the Dark: You discover an intense connection with a dream lover, yearning for a love beyond physical appearances. As your encounters blur the lines between the waking world and the Dreaming, your grapple with the complexities of desire, friendship, and mortality. Can you truly love in the dark?

Warnings: Death.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x NAMEDFem!Reader.

Word Count: ~2.6k

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Your alarm blares, pulling you from the soft tendrils of a dream. It's the start of another day in the Waking World. You stumble out of bed, bleary-eyed and groggy, still feeling the phantom touch of Morpheus on your skin.

You shuffle through your morning routine, still feeling the lingering traces of your time with Morpheus. You brush your teeth, dress in a hurry, and grab a quick breakfast before rushing out the door to catch the subway to work.

The city hums around you, oblivious to your nightly excursions into the Dream Realm. The smell of exhaust and fresh bagels fill the air, the sounds of car horns and distant music mix into a cacophony that only a city can produce. You weave through the throng of people, your mind still on Morpheus.

You reach your office building, an imposing structure of steel and glass that stands as a stark contrast to the fantastical landscape of the Dream Realm. As you step inside, you shake off the last vestiges of sleep and prepare for another day of work.

You take your seat in the conference room for a meeting with the marketing team. The whiteboard is filled with charts and figures, sales trends and marketing strategies. You can't help but feel disconnected as you sit there, listening to the discussions about customer engagement and product placements.

"Kora," your boss turns to you, "what's your take on our current sales approach?"

You force yourself back to reality, shifting gears from dreams to numbers. "I think we're doing well in terms of reaching our target audience," you start, leaning forward in your chair. "However, we could improve on customer retention."

You spend the next few minutes discussing potential strategies, delving into analytics and customer feedback. Your colleagues nod along, some jotting down notes while others offer their own suggestions. The room is filled with a sense of productivity and collaboration that feels oddly comforting after your emotional turmoil.

Your day at work passes in a blur of paperwork, emails, and meetings. The mundane tasks provide a much-needed distraction from the emotional rollercoaster of your relationship with Morpheus.

The sky outside your office window begins to darken as you finally switch off your computer. As you gather your belongings, you feel a strange mix of relief and apprehension. Relief because the day is over and you can finally rest, apprehension because sleep means returning to the Dream Realm and facing Morpheus.

You head home, your steps heavy with fatigue. The city lights are a vibrant splash against the night sky, but you hardly notice them. Your mind is elsewhere, lost in thoughts of dreams and endless entities.

You make it back to your home and go through the motions of preparing for bed. You change into your pajamas, brush your teeth, and settle under the covers. The room is quiet, save for the soft hum of the heater and the distant noise from the city outside.

As you close your eyes, you can't help but feel a pang of longing for Morpheus. Despite everything, you miss him - his touch, his voice, even his cryptic ways. You miss the Dream Realm with its surreal landscapes and fantastical creatures.

But then you remember his proposal - live out your mortal life before joining him in the Dreaming - and it brings you back to reality. The thought is too much to process right now.

With a deep sigh, you allow sleep to claim you. You're plunged into darkness before being gently carried away by dreams.

You find yourself standing in an endless field of vibrant wildflowers under a sky painted with hues of twilight. A soft breeze rustles through the flowers, filling the air with their sweet scent. This place is peaceful, serene - so different from the chaotic city life you lead in the Waking World.

Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice behind you. You turn around and there he is, Morpheus, the Dream Lord, standing amidst the sea of flowers. He looks at you with a mix of longing and relief. It's clear that he missed you as much as you missed him.

"Kora," he calls out your name, his voice soft as a whisper. A smile stretches on your lips and you jog towards him, looking forward to what this dream will bring you.

The familiar sensation of stepping into the Dreaming washes over you, the vibrant colors and fantastical landscapes as mesmerizing as the first time you set foot here. Your physical form might have aged, but the love Morpheus held for you still burned like the brightest star in the sky.

Sitting in the palace garden, you find Matthew fluttering down onto your shoulder, a ruffled ball of ebony feathers. His beady eyes gaze at you with an air of expectancy. A smile tugs at your lips, as it always does when Matthew visits. His visits are always filled with amusing banter and endless teasing. It's comforting, this little ritual of yours.

"Alright, Matthew," you sigh, reaching out to smooth his ruffled feathers. "Let's get you all neat and tidy."

Matthew caws in delight, his sharp eyes watching your every move. You work through his plumage carefully, smoothing down his feathers one by one. It's a familiar task now, one that's become as second nature to you as breathing.

Your fingers move with practiced ease, finding and straightening any ruffled feathers with a gentle touch. Matthew preens under your ministrations, his eyes half-closed in enjoyment.

Just as you're about to finish up with Matthew's preening session, a familiar figure appears at the edge of the garden. Morpheus stands there, watching you with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Kora," he calls out softly. His voice carries over the rustling leaves and chirping birds, clear as a bell in the quiet garden.

You turn towards him, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. Even after all these years, Morpheus still takes your breath away.

"Morpheus," you greet him, a warm smile spreading across your face. "What brings you here?"

He strides towards you, his long coat billowing behind him in a dramatic fashion that seems fitting for the King of Dreams.

"I thought I might steal you away for a walk," he says once he reaches you. "If Matthew would ever allow it."

You chuckle at that, glancing at Matthew who's still perched on your shoulder. The raven seems content for now, his feathers looking much neater than before.

"Are you jealous, Morpheus?" you tease, raising an eyebrow at him.

Morpheus merely shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. "Perhaps," he admits, offering his arm to you. "Shall we?"

You accept his arm with a grin, turning to Matthew. "Don't worry, Matty. We'll continue this later."

With Morpheus by your side, you stroll through Fiddler's Green. The place is lush and tranquil, a patchwork of emerald meadows and sapphire streams that glisten under the light of a sun that never seems to set. The soft rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of unseen birds provide a soothing soundtrack to your leisurely walk.

Morpheus walks in silence, his hand wrapped around yours in a comforting hold. You take in the vibrant scenery, the beauty of Fiddler's Green making your heart flutter with an indescribable joy.

Eventually, you both come to a stop by a sparkling stream, its waters reflecting the colors of the surrounding wildflowers. Morpheus turns to face you, his eyes carrying an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

"Kora," he begins, his voice barely above a whisper. "You are beautiful."

A soft chuckle escapes your lips at his words. You glance down at your wrinkled hands, their veins more prominent now than ever before. You touch the gray strands of hair that have escaped from your bun, feeling their rough texture against your fingers.

"Morpheus," you say, shaking your head slightly. "I'm old. My hair is graying, my skin is lined with wrinkles...I'm not the young woman I once was."

But Morpheus simply smiles at your words. He reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb gently tracing the lines etched into your skin.

"Age has not dimmed your beauty, Kora," he insists softly. "It has only enhanced it."

His words catch you off guard, leaving you speechless. You look into his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity and adoration in their depths.

"Every wrinkle," he continues, "tells a story of laughter and tears, triumphs and losses. Your gray hair is a symbol of wisdom earned over time. To me, you are more beautiful now than ever before."

His declaration warms your heart like nothing else can. With him by your side, age doesn't seem like something to be feared or loathed. Instead, it feels like an honor - a testament to a life well-lived.

"Morpheus..." you whisper his name like a prayer on your lips.

He simply smiles at you in response, pulling you closer until you're wrapped in his embrace. As you stand there by the stream in Fiddler's Green with Morpheus holding you close, you can't help but feel truly cherished and loved for who you are - wrinkles and all.

The Dreaming was a realm of beauty and wonder, a place where the impossible became reality and every dream took flight. But now, the heart of the Dreaming was darkened, its vibrant colors muted and its lively essence dulled. A pervasive gloom hung over the land, casting long shadows that stretched endlessly, mirroring the sorrow of its ruler.

In the grand throne room of the Dreaming, Morpheus sat slumped on his throne, his once majestic posture now a shadow of its former self. His eyes, usually so bright and filled with an ethereal light, were red-rimmed and dull. The weight of his grief was palpable, and it seeped into every corner of his realm, affecting all who resided there.

You were gone. His sister to collect you and hear the choice you would make.

Morpheus had known this day would come. Mortals were fleeting, their lives but brief moments in the vast expanse of eternity. He had told you to make your decision to leave or remain in the Dreaming upon your death. He had told you that. Yet knowing did nothing to soften the blow. The bond he had shared with you was profound, transcending the boundaries of the Dreaming and the Waking World. You had been his anchor, his love, his light in the darkness of his realm.

And now you were gone, taken by the inexorable passage of time.

The Dreaming reflected its lord’s anguish. Once vibrant fields of flowers wilted, their colors fading to grey. Rivers of liquid starlight had dimmed, their currents sluggish and weak. The sky, once a magnificent tapestry of shifting hues and twinkling stars, was overcast and heavy, mirroring the sorrow that weighed down upon Morpheus.

So when you appear in the library, once again youthful as the mortal Morpheus so fell so deeply in love with, Lucienne merely peered over her spectacles and sighed.

"He is in the throne room, as Matthew calls it, oozing," You blink at the librarian before furrowing your brows, trying to understand what she was talking about. Then you remember all the Howl Pendragon references Matthew likes to use. It was your turn to sigh and you do.

"Oh for the love of the Dreaming, Morpheus," you exclaim, rolling your eyes. Your youthful voice even surprised you for you had long since gotten accustomed to your aged one. "I thought we had an agreement!" With that you stride towards the library doors, determined to knock some sense into your eternal lover for believing that you might have chosen otherwise.

You fly through the palace halls, ignoring the excited exclamations of the palace staff, hellbent on knocking some sense into Morpheus for believing that you would chose the sunless lands over him.

As you push open the grand doors of the throne room, the sight that greets you is far from the majestic splendor you're used to. The usual shimmering beauty of the room is dulled, its colors muted. The throne, once a symbol of power and grandeur, now feels cold and empty, despite its occupant.

Morpheus sits there, a shadow of his former self. His gaze is fixed on some distant point, his mind lost in a world of grief and sorrow. And yes, there is ooze coming out of the bottom of his throne. At least he hadn't stooped to actually oozing.

"I wish to be alone," he says without looking at you, his voice echoing in the silence of the room.

Planting your hands on your hips, you glare at your sulking lover. "Do you?"

The look on his face when he finally turns to see you is priceless. His eyes widen in surprise and then narrow in confusion.

"Kora?" he whispers, rising from his throne. He descends the stairs slowly, almost as if he fears that moving too quickly will shatter the illusion. When he finally reaches you, he hesitates for a moment before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against him.

His kiss is hard and desperate, a raw display of his relief and longing. You respond in kind, your hands tangling in his hair as you pull him closer. The kiss is intense, a whirlwind of emotions that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

Morpheus pulls away just enough to bury his face in your neck, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. His grip on you tightens, as if he's afraid that you'll disappear if he lets go.

You let out a soft laugh, running your fingers through his hair. "I'm here," you assure him, "I'm really here. Though I have half the mind to smack some sense into you for thinking I would chose eternal death over you."

The tension leaves his body at your words and he holds you even tighter, pressing soft kisses against your neck. You close your eyes, relishing in the warmth of his embrace.

The sensation of his arms around you, the scent of him, the warmth of his body against yours, it's all so overwhelming. Your heart aches with a mixture of relief and joy. This is where you belong, here in his arms, in the Dreaming.

"You had me worried, Kora," Morpheus murmurs into your ear. His voice trembles slightly, betraying his earlier fear.

You chuckle softly, nuzzling into his neck. "And you had me worried too," you reply, thinking back to the sight of him slumped on his throne. "Don't ever do that again."

Morpheus pulls back to look at you, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I thought I had lost you," he confesses.

Your heart clenches at his words and you reach up to cup his cheek. "You'll never lose me, Morpheus," you tell him sincerely before your face shifts into a smirk. "Now, are you going to put a ring on my finger? I’ve been waiting for decades.”

Morpheus' eyes flare with an intensity that steals your breath away. The stars within them blaze like distant galaxies, their cosmic light mirroring the lust that suddenly fills him. A low growl escapes his lips as he takes in your playful smirk.

Morpheus scoops you up, cradling your body against his, and carries you out of the throne room. His steps quicken, as if he can't wait to reach your destination. He doesn't say a word, but the determined look in his eyes speaks volumes.

You can't help but giggle, your heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. This feeling of being swept off your feet, literally and figuratively, is both exhilarating and comforting. It's a testament to the depth of your connection, and you savor every moment as you're whisked away into the heart of the Dreaming.

Date Published: 11/8/24

Last Edit: 11/8/24

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#morpheus #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #dream the endless #sandman x reader #dream the endless x reader #lord morpheus #the sandman netflix #dream of the endless #the sandman

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galleryofart · 2 months ago

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The Corinthian Maid

Artist: Joseph Wright of Derby (1734–1797)

Depicted People: Kora of Sicyon

Date: circa 1784

Medium: Oil on Canvas

Collection: National Gallery of Art

Josiah Wedgwood, the pioneer of pottery manufacturing, commissioned this mythological scene that illustrates the invention of the art of modeling bas-relief sculpture. Wedgwood’s own fired-clay vessels, decorated with low reliefs, would have been seen by an eighteenth-century audience as the aesthetic descendants of this ancient Greek maiden’s attempt to preserve her beloved’s profile.

The girl was the daughter of a potter in Corinth. Her boyfriend was about to embark on a perilous journey to foreign lands, taking only his spear and dog. As a memento, she traced her sleeping lover’s silhouette onto the wall. Her father then used the drawing to model a clay relief, which he baked in his kiln to create a ceramic keepsake.

Joseph Wright (British, 1734 - 1797), a master of artificial illumination, concealed a hanging lamp behind the curtain, suggesting the source of the beams that cast the youth’s shadow. In contrast to the lamp’s gentle glow, intense sparks and embers leap inside the potter’s fiery furnace.

Wright researched his topic for archeological accuracy. Wedgwood loaned antique vases from his own art collection so that Wright could copy their shapes, and the clothing derives from ancient sculpture. Classical symmetry pervades the design; the curtain and archway flank the focal action of the maiden’s stylus tracing the youth’s profile.

#joseph wright of derby #british painter #corinthian maid #artwork #british art #man #woman #curtain #glow

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elfdyke · 2 years ago

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do you have any nica pierce and tiffany valentine headcanons?

letting this ask age like fine wine until i got to the perfect point to answer it which is right now i guess <3

im not sure if you were asking for them separately or as a ship but uhhhh ill just cover all my bases ^_^

when nica was in college she was kind of a heart breaker. she hadn’t dated very much in highschool, probably just some boy for a few months, mainly out of a feeling of obligation, but she really hits her stride in college. it helps because shes finally on her own, she can spread her wings without the burden of feeling like the pitiful disabled girl with the mentally ill mother. in college she gets to be witty and charming and make friends who dont know her dreary backstory. also in college she realizes she is in fact a lesbian.. <3 (insert obligatory changing my major reference thank you kora)

nica’s kind of reveling in the discovery of women and kissing women and being with women and well she is all about that but i fear that she is a huge commitmentphobe is the problem. the list of messy exes and ghosted one night stands is something that honestly embarrasses nica but well you see they were too clingy ! (wanted to sleep over after having sex) they were too pushy and nosey! (asked about her childhood)

basically um. well imagine growing up and your mother drills it into you over and over again that the scariest most dangerous thing you can do is fall in love with someone. that no matter what nica does, dont love another person. dont open yourself up to the hurt, the pain, the loss. and nica rebuffs it because of course she does. she resents her mother for thinking nica cant handle herself, handle possible loss or pain, but she grew up on this, this fear and anguish seeped into her brain and now she herself is terrified of that possible loss. so she simply does not open herself up to that! which is actually what is so funny but also perfect about tiffanica to me. nica so resistent and fearful of commitment and mutual love that it takes another woman literally keeping her in their house like a wounded bird for her to get the kind of exposure therapy she needed to see that maybe being loved is not the terrible thing she grew up thinking it would be

oh also i really believe that sarah pierce has had a few suicide scares in the past, and that was particularly hard when barb was away from home (nica would be 12-18 all by herself with her mother). nica feels extremely responsible for her mothers mental health and keeping her safe. in fact i genuinely believe that the reason nica is at home in curse is not because of her own health reasons but because sarahs mental health took a pretty drastic drip and, of course barb refused to take care of her (she wanted to send her to a care home/or a ward), so nica swallowed her pride and gave up her independence to move back with her mother and keep an eye on her while she got better. i genuinely believe this is canon i wont lie, i feel like its very well supported in the text and implications of the movie.. but im just throwing it in here because i like spreading the good word

so for tiffany its pretty much canon that she meets chucky when shes uhhh 19 if we are being generous. shes very young. and hes in his late 20s </3. so well for tiffany i think she had a very messy time in her teenage years. a lot of intense relationships that were not good for her at all, she wanted to feel something, feel alive and in control but these men dont really wake that feeling up in her. she’s not careful with herself, i wouldnt call her suicidal but shes not very concerned with her life. visiting bars and hooking up with dangerous looking men for a thrill, shes kind of just waiting to get murdered about it the rate shes going. but when she meets chucky the pieces just fall into place. their relationship is so turbulent and exciting and dangerous and everything tiffany thought she wanted. but chucky is on a level above tiffany, hes colder, more calculating, more manipulative and dangerous, despite how badly tiffany wants to be just as despicable as him.

this isnt so much a headcanon but uhhhh. the fact that tiffany and chucky are together for 2 years before he dies. the fact that chucky kills her mother.. ^_^ um well i think that was probably just about the most fucked up thing. you have no one but me. she was holding you back. she wanted to stop you, but i want to set you free. etc etc etc… AGHH. when youre wrapped up so tightly in another person like that, in such a twisted and desperate and unhealthy way, it really does make sense that tiffany is obsessed with chucky ten years later. especially the fact that in that time she had idealized him so severely, i really believe that tiffany had completely twisted their relationship up in her head in the 10 years he was gone. she convinces herself that what they had was magical, that he was the one for her, that he was more loving than he actually was, that he held a certain amount of tenderness for her that shes emphasized in her mind. that she was the villain in their relationship, the desperate jealous bitch who hurt her loving boyfriend, without even giving him a chance. she gets the chucky heart tattoo when she finds out he dies, revels in the pain. she deserves to hurt after what she did. its less of a tattoo and more of a brand

hmmm kind of headcanon but also kind of implied canon due to jennifer and fiona’s machinations.. but i really like the concept of tiffany and nica having a very complicated and interesting dynamic post cult. the first time tiffany meets nica properly, is after chucky has hurt her. maybe he hit her or said something particularly hurtful, but she swings back and hits him across the face and well. out comes nica. this is how they meet the first few times. nica manages to wrangle her anxiety and panic under control, seeing the way that tiffany is so hysterically upset and anguished. and she comforts her. she doesnt know what else to do, she hates tiffany, cant look at her without hearing “she’s dead, miss pierce” ringing in her ears but the longer tiffany spends sobbing in nicas arms, she doesnt feel that burning hatred in the pit of her stomach. the fear kind of subsides a little too, not by much, but its not the overwhelming blind panic she felt the first time this happened. shes realizing that tiffany is not the cold calculating villain that she had believed her to be. that shes broken, hurting and scared, and desperately in love with chucky, someone who cant love her back the way she wants, the way she needs.. nica pities her

also the rest of my tiffanica thoughts lie squarely in the alternate but better reality where nica never gets dismembered and tiffany exorcises chucky from her body, so them living in tiffanys house together is a lot more like. focused on their dynamic and how they learn to care for each other in a way that makes sense to both of them. its kind of everything to me.. ^_^

OH one additional silly headcanon i have is that barb owned a copy of bound, but she left it at home after leaving to college, and a young nica ends up stumbling upon it and well um. it in fact does affect her in ways.

#sorry i dont have as much stuff to say for tiffany um the thing is she is so much better written than nica so i have to do a ton of legwork-#to flesh nica out #while tiffany is already a comprehensive character with motives and feelings that align with her throughout the entire franchise..#SO THERES THAT #also sorry i feel like you probably wanted me to say their favorite mcdonalds orders or something which sure i can do that too but well #when you let me go with a vague prompt im going to be going quite insane unfortunately #i <3 meta posting and thinking so much and fleshing characters out and rolling them aroundin my head #asks #anon #tiffanica #tiffany valentine #nica pierce #childs play #long post #text heavy

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clonesimpextra · 2 years ago

Text

A Shattered Peace: Chapter 10

New Beginnings

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Pairing: Commander Wolffe x FemJedi!OC Word Count: 7.2K Chapter Rating: T Chapter Summary: Amara meets her battalion and faces a new set of problems. A/N: It has been nearly four months lol I'm so sorry. This chapter really is a new beginning for Amara and I'm excited for the directions it's going to take! Also available on AO3

In her small room inside the Jedi Temple, Amara lurched forward in bed. Memories that weren’t her own — of battles and of ash that covered the ground like snow — filtered through her mind as a single name fell from her lips.

“Wolffe.”

Lying back down, the pounding of her heart slowing to a steadier beat, she stared at the ceiling above her bed and wondered what the fuck she was going to do now.

Dreaming about Wolffe wasn’t, on its own, a bad thing. She couldn’t control the fantasies her subconscious might create, especially when her subconscious was only pulling from the thoughts created when she was entirely too conscious. Dreaming about Wolffe was fine.

But this … this hadn’t felt like a dream.

Dreams were ethereal creations of the mind, something always missing because the mind remembered what it wanted to, not necessarily what was correct. One might feel the memory of a touch, the memory of a voice in their dreams, but it would never be the same as reality.

It wasn’t a memory Amara had felt when she’d grabbed Wolffe’s hand. His skin against hers wasn’t a distortion of what she knew from experience to be real.

Amara hadn’t dreamed of seeing Wolffe last night. She hadn’t made up a scenario in which she could see him one last time.

She did see him.

She did say his name.

She did hear a voice, somewhere in the distance, whisper words in the slithering tongue of a snake.

Kill the Jedi.

Wolffe hadn’t heard, that much Amara knew. He’d been confused, then relieved; hesitant, then determined. Determined, maybe, to say something Amara desperately wanted to hear. But she’d been afraid of the voice, afraid of where they were.

Afraid of Wolffe revealing something to her in what he likely imagined was a dream. Not real. Safe. No matter how badly she wanted them, his words weren’t meant for her ears, not yet.

Amara had tried to break the connection — whatever it was that had tied them together in a way she’d never even heard of before — but she couldn’t. So she’d begged him to break it instead, by playing into his ideas of a dream.

And it wasn’t a dream … right?

She blinked, her confidence breaking as her eyes adjusted to the light. The further she ventured from sleep, the more distorted her memories of what she’d seen became. Still, she tried to picture the scene again, tried to grasp the edges of it through the fogginess of her mind. She’d been so sure, in the moment and in the immediate aftermath of waking, but now …

She could feel the memories slipping. Could feel her certainty waiver.

Did she call out to him first, or did he reach for her?

Was there a scar on his eye where there shouldn’t be one?

Had ash fallen around them, or had that just been snow?

The details were fuzzy until they were murky until they were gone and all she was left with was the knowledge that she had dreamt about Wolffe and it hadn’t felt like a dream. That when she closed her eyes, all she could see was blood on his face and specks like stardust claiming him as their own.

*****

Jedi General Amara Kora was many things.

She was the former Padawan of Master Plo Kloon. She was strong in the Force. She was a fierce warrior.

Jedi General Amara Kora was many things.

But she was not a good liar. Especially not to herself.

And so, as she stood in front of the 414th Battalion — the Four-Fourteen as they preferred to be called — she couldn’t deny the tendril of sadness that creeped through her head, reminding her of another battalion, another introduction.

“CC-4718 reporting for duty, general.”

Another commander.

Amara pushed Wolffe and the dream that was still haunting her thoughts to the back of her mind and reached out a hand.

“Your name, commander?”

The clone before her, donning armor painted a navy blue so dark it was almost black, hesitated only briefly before taking hold.

“Riv, sir. Short for River.”

Amara smiled, the rippled lines along the edges of his helmet suddenly made much more sense.

“Well, Commander Riv, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She let go of his hand and glanced around at the men. Less than half had the same navy painted on their armor, meaning the majority of her new battalion were either transfers or fresh off Kamino with little to no battle experience.

She sighed. At least she and Commander Riv had a week of training to prepare them. Still, a small part of her wondered how many had names, how many didn’t. How many would die before they even got a chance. The thought made her cringe, made her hold back on taking in their Force colors. How many more could she commit to memory only to be forced to let them go?

“Most of them are shinnies, sir,” Riv said from beside her, a welcome interruption to her thoughts, “but the Four-Fourteen know how to make a good soldier.”

“Oh I don’t doubt that, commander.”

Though she’d only been told which battalion she’d be leading earlier that morning, Amara had spent the hours before this introduction pouring over their files. The Four-Fourteen was a rather unique group. Though they were technically a battalion, they didn’t fall under the same definitions as, say, the 212th. They didn’t belong to a corps or regiment and were larger than the typical battalion, splitting specialties between ground and air attack.

From what Amara had read, the Four-Fourteen was an experimental group, created after a heavy loss at Geonosis. The battalion was supposed to be restructured, brought into a larger group like Anakin’s 501st or Master Windu’s 91st, but their success rate in the wake of Geonosis had been admirably high, and neither the council nor the GAR were willing to risk disrupting that.

Because of their unique standing, however, the Four-Fourteen had never been directly led by a Jedi General. They’d fought alongside Jedi, sure — Obi-Wan and Anakin were on that short list — but they’d only ever been led by one Commander Riv.

An experimental group for an experimental leader? Amara tried not to read too much into the council’s decision to place her here, of all places. Did she really want to be leader of a larger group, anyway? She was already nervous enough as it was. And, quite frankly, the less lives she was responsible for, the better.

She took a deep breath and squared her soldiers, the stiff fabric of her new maroon tunic itching across her skin. “We all have to start from somewhere, don’t we?” She wasn’t sure if she was talking more to the commander or to herself.

Riv let out a small chuckle anyway, the kind sound lifting just a bit of weight off Amara’s chest as she turned to address the rest of the battalion. She’d practiced her speech for hours — on the way home from the barracks the night before and on the way back to the GAR compound this morning. Facing the battalion now, though, feeling their excitement and dread and wariness at being led by someone new, she paused.

As familiar as this felt to her first introduction with the 104th, and as nervous as she was at them receiving her the same way Wolffe had, these were not the same situations. Not at all. This wasn’t the beginning of the war, when everyone had hope that the fighting would end within mere months, when the largest death toll had still far and away been Geonosis. Now, there wasn’t a soul in the GAR, shiny or not, who didn’t know what to expect. Introductions in this kind of environment could not be the same as before.

She was not the same as before.

“As you all know, I’m Jedi General Amara Kora.” She swallowed, the new title still tasting strange on her tongue. “Some of you have been in this fight since the beginning, or close to it. Some of you are new. Shiny, as I know you prefer to call it.”

The men shifted on their feet, silent. But Amara could feel their moods lighten in the Force. She smiled and continued.

“I won’t waste time by making promises we all know I can’t keep. Those of you who have been fighting in the war already know that I can’t promise you your safety. I can’t promise you your lives. I can’t even promise my own life to myself.” She looked across the group, wishing she could see their eyes rather than the dark glare of their visors. “But what I can promise — what I do vow to all of you — is that I will always fight by your side. I will never ask you to do something I wouldn’t myself.”

Her mind flashed once again to Wolffe. To his uncertainty about her words and her actions. His lack of trust had stung, back then. But now, after everything she’d seen, she couldn’t blame him. Promises were easy to make. Difficult to keep. Harder, still, to prove.

“If I ever fall back on my promise,” she looked at Riv and smirked, “you have my permission to tell me.”

Again, though all the clones were helmeted and stood perfectly still, she could feel their surprise heavily in the Force. She imagined more than a few of them with raised eyebrows. Good.

“This will be a week of rigorous training, led by both Commander Riv and myself. But I also want it to be a week where we get to know one another. If you have a name, I want to know it. If you have aspirations, please tell me. If you have questions,” she paused, turning toward a particularly loud feeling in the Force coming from a clone with a starbird painted on one side of his helmet, “you may ask them.”

The men around her shifted to stare at the starbird clone, who, for his part, turned to face Amara fully. After a short moment of hesitation, he spoke loud and clear.

“I’m sure you mean well, sir, but with all due respect, we’re soldiers. Not children who need to be coddled.”

Riv took half a step forward, but Amara raised a hand, stopping him. She nodded at the clone in front of her. “What’s your name, trooper?”

“Maverick.”

Amara nodded, sorting through the confused energy emanating from the man. It was like he couldn’t decided between feeling angry or bemused, scared or annoyed, confident or unsure. His indecisiveness piqued Amara’s interest and before she could question herself again, she let her guards down and let the Force show her what it wanted.

Maverick’s Force color was just as confused as his feelings. Red shifted to maroon shifted to purple shifted to blue shifted to green shifted to yellow until they mixed together and settled into a pulsating aura around him. The sensation was familiar to Amara, in a way she couldn’t quite put a finger on. Pushing aside the feeling for now, she focused on what she remembered from Maverick’s, quite frankly, remarkable file.

“Clone Trooper Maverick, officially CT-7727. Fighter pilot and second-in-command of,” she gestured at the figure on his helmet, “Starbird Squadron. Some reports call you one of the best pilots in the GAR.”

“Just one of?”

Amara smiled. “You’ve not seen me fly yet. There’s a reason you’re only second-in-command.”

Laughter rippled through the group as Amara stepped back to address them all again.

“I don’t expect you to trust me right now, but I do hope you’ll give me a chance. That is what this week is about, not,” she glanced at Maverick, “coddling.”

The laughter increased, with one of the clones next to Maverick slapping him on the back. Riv cleared his throat. “Alright, that’s enough.”

Amara nodded at Riv to continue and watched the battalion as he spoke. Once she’d let down her guards with Maverick, every color of every clone was clearly on display. Despite her earlier trepidation, she looked at each one, committed them to memory. There were only so many possible color combinations, and, inevitably, Amara came across a shade or two that was similar to one from a clone in the 104th. But though they shared similar shades, the essence of them, the life that flowed through them, was never quite the same. The men of the Four-Fourteen were not the men of the 104th, and though Amara had known that on an intellectual level, she was only just now accepting that one could not, and would never, replace the other. She was glad. Maybe that meant she couldn’t be replaced so easily either.

When she came back around to Riv, whose own color was a startlingly bright shade of blue, the commander had finished his instructions for the day’s training and, with a glance at Amara, dismissed the men to their respective tasks. He took off his helmet and joined Amara to watch them disperse.

“I was wondering what color your hair would be,” she tilted her head to inspect his regulation brown hair and clean shaven face more closely, “and if you’d be hiding a beard under there.”

Riv’s lips twitched slightly, but he remained stoic. “Beards are against regulation. Technically, so are those hairstyles you’re talking about.”

Amara shrugged, thinking of Boost. “I can see the appeal.”

“I’m old school I guess.” He hesitated before adding, “You seem rather comfortable around us clones, general.”

It wasn’t a question, but it was, Amara supposed, a rather valid statement.

“I am,” she spoke slowly, wanting to make sure her words accurately reflected her thoughts. “The 104th taught me a lot. We trusted each other — still trust each other. I want that with this battalion as well.”

Riv nodded, eyes following the last of the clones to leave the area. “We’ve not had someone to trust in quite a while.” He glanced down at her, a slight smile finally breaking through his pressed lips. “It’d certainly be a nice change of pace.”

Amara blinked, surprised at the effect his words, and the gentleness with which he said them, had on her. Maybe this transition wouldn’t be as difficult as she feared.

She returned Riv’s smile and nodded toward the training center. “Well then commander, we better get started.”

*****

That first day had been much too easy.

Amara knew soldiers well enough to know that they’d want to test her before they could really trust her. She didn’t blame them. As much as they were created to follow orders, they were still human. They still put their lives in her hands. Who wouldn’t want to make sure those hands were steady? Wolffe had taught her that.

But she’d grown so used to already having the 104th’s trust, she’d forgotten what it was like to start from scratch. And fuck if the Four-Fourteen weren’t testing her hard. Maverick, especially.

The starbird pilot hadn’t let up on his jabs since his remark that first day. In fact, he’d gotten a bit worse.

At first, Amara had told herself it wasn’t personal, that he would act this way around any person he didn’t yet trust. But, as the third day of training came to a close, she was starting to believe that maybe it was, actually, very personal. Because now Maverick wasn’t just sassing her, he was mocking her. To the men. And pretending he didn’t know she was standing just across the training room from him.

“All I’m saying is, do we even know if she can hold her own in a fight?”

Amara had been ignoring him, for the most part. The men were allowed to criticize her, she’d encouraged it herself because she knew she wasn’t perfect. They deserved space to talk about her without worrying she would punish them. But this … Wolffe never would have put with this. He would have encouraged her to say something. He would have said something.

But, Amara reminded herself for the umpteenth time that day, Wolffe wasn’t here. She had to stand up for herself.

“She wasn’t even a commander on her own with the 104th. It’s easy to have a good record when you’ve got a guy like Wolffe fighting for you.”

The training mat Amara was rolling up slipped from her hands and landed on the floor with a loud thunk. All the chatter stopped and she could feel Maverick smirking at her even before she turned around to face him.

“You’ve seen me fight, Maverick.” It was easier to keep her voice level than she’d thought it would be. Now that she was finally responding to his jabs, Amara found she had a lot to say. “I’ve been fighting with all of you during the training simulations every day.”

“Yeah,” Maverick scoffed. “With. Alongside. Not against. How are we supposed to trust someone we aren’t even sure could fight us off. Sure you know how?”

Riv stepped away from the group of clones he was talking to. “Soldier—”

“No, no, commander,” Amara smiled at the men around her, a familiar excitement rising under her skin, “he’s right. Not about whether I know how to fight a clone, of course. But I haven’t proven it yet have I?”

“You’ve fought one of us before?” Flame, one of the shinnies standing next to Riv, spoke up, eyes wide.

Amara shrugged. “I sparred with the 104th plenty.”

It was one of the first things Boost had challenged her to after he lost their first Sabacc game. She’d had her ass handed to her and Sinker had demanded she learn how to protect herself better. Without her lightsabers.

“Well then,” Maverick, still smirking, gestured around the room, “maybe you can prove it right now. With one of us.”

“Name your terms, trooper.”

Laughter erupted from the men as they nudged each other closer to Amara and Maverick. Riv stood in the corner, shaking his head.

“No armor and none of your,” Maverick waved a hand, grimacing, “Force magic.”

Amara rolled her eyes. Different clones, maybe, but still the same misinterpretation of her abilities. “It’s not magic, but okay. Fair enough.”

“And because we’re so nice. We’ll let you choose who you go up against.”

“Hmm.” Amara tapped her chin, and looked around at her men, pretending to think. There wasn’t really another option, was there? It was time to nip this in the bud. She stopped her gaze at the clone before her and nodded solemnly. “You’re the one who brought this whole thing up, Maverick. I think it’s only right that it be you.”

He stared at her, smirk close to slipping into a frown. Amara could feel his hesitation, his doubt. Just as she thought.

“Unless, of course, you’re worried?” She cocked her head and gestured behind him. “I’m sure Helix would be more than happy to step in.”

The medic grinned at Amara, loose curls falling across his forehead, and slapped a hand on Maverick’s shoulder. “Gonna finish what you started, brother?”

Maverick shrugged off his hand, scowling.

“Of course I am.” He looked between Amara and Riv. “Just trying to figure out how much trouble I’ll get in when I hurt the general.”

“Oh don’t worry.” She pulled an arm across her chest, stretching the sore muscles. “It’s all in good fun, right?”

Maverick gave a stiff nod before turning around to discuss something with his group. Amara took up his forgotten smirk and focused on her stretches. She’d been watching all the men fight these past three days, was familiar with their strengths and weaknesses, and she went over what she’d seen so far from Maverick.

He wasn’t usually ground forces, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t strong or capable of fighting. The opposite, actually. His pilot’s reflexes made him quick on his feet and the breathing practices usually reserved for flying kept him from tiring easily. But, like most other pilots, he was cautious with his hands, didn’t like to throw a punch if he could help it. Amara had been the same, once. Maybe she still would be if it had just been pilots teaching her how to fight. But she’d also had Anakin Skywalker as a teacher, once upon a time, and he was just as fond of punching as he was of flying.

She laughed into her shoulder. Maverick would, quite literally, not know what hit him. She was still laughing when Riv walked up to her, arms crossed. She switched arms and nodded.

“Commander.”

“Are you sure about this, general?”

Amara kicked her leg up, shaking out the tension. “You know these men better than I do, Riv. You know Maverick better than I do. So, you tell me. Is it a good idea?”

Riv sighed, eyes closed and eyebrows pinched. “It’s the only way to get him to shut up.”

“Then I guess it’s a good idea.” Amara chuckled, in a significantly better mood than she had been in a while. “Don’t worry, commander. I wasn’t lying. The 104th taught me well.”

“Commander Wolffe really let his men spar with you?”

“I know the perception people have about Wolffe—”

“Grumpy, aloof … mean.” Riv counted off on his fingers and Amara’s smile widened.

“He can be all those things, yeah. But he and I … I told you the 104th and I trusted each other. They weren’t just Wolffe’s men. They were mine, too.” She shrugged, smile slipping, and glanced away from Riv’s stare.

“Well,” he shook his head again, exasperated but, Amara reached for him in the Force, not annoyed, “this’ll certainly get you the boys’ respect. Just … don’t put Maverick out of commission, yeah? He really is our best pilot.”

“One of your best pilots, commander.” Amara smiled, eyes trained on Maverick as he finally turned back around. “And I promise. A few bruises, max. Probably.”

“Probably??”

Amara waved off Riv’s panic and walked to the mat in the center of the room, stepping onto it at the same time as Maverick. She let herself take in his aura, which was flashing franticly between red and purple.

As she closed herself off from the Force, she felt a pull somewhere in her body. A subtle yearning, a flash of anger, a hint of maroon. She shook her head and completed the process, the pull fading into nothing as her mind emptied, disconnected from everything.

She’d never liked the way it felt to shut out the Force. It was like existing without one of her senses — possible but … different. Now, though, with the promise of a friendly fight, her body had never felt more alive. How long had it been since she’d just had fun? She smiled at the man in front of her.

“Ready for this, Starbird?”

Maverick grunted and took up his position, fists loosely raised. “If I win, do I get to become the general?”

“Tell you what,” Amara settled into her own stance, balancing her weight between her legs. “You win, you lead Starbird Squadron. No more second-in-comand.”

His eyes widened, body relaxed, mouth curled into a shit-eating grin. Just like Amara wanted. “You’re gonna regret making that deal.”

She wouldn’t. This fight would be hers, she could feel it even without the Force. But that didn’t mean she didn’t want a good struggle. Might as well give Maverick something to really fight for.

Helix whistled, shutting them both up. “Alright you two, I want a clean fight. No closed fists. No scratches. I’m tired as fuck and if I have to stay up in the med bay with one of you I’m gonna be pissed. No offense, general.”

“I don’t have sensitive ears. Or morals. Get to it, Helix.”

“Alright, alright.” Helix raised his hands and stepped back off the mat. “Do what you want, then.”

Maverick took his first shot before Helix stopped speaking, catching Amara off guard. She managed to side-step him and slap his hand away, but not before his other arm wrapped around her leg and took her down with him.

They both landed on their stomachs, popping back up on their feet at the same time.

Maverick glared.

Amara smiled.

This was going to be fun.

****

“Do you yield?”

Maverick wiggled under Amara for a few seconds, the arm caught firmly between her legs struggling to break free. She held tight and rolled her eyes, pressing further on his shoulder.

“Last chance, trooper.”

“Fine!” His voice was muffled against the mat. “I yield, OK?”

Amara let go and rolled on to her feet, smiling at the cheers from their small audience. The men circled around them were clapping, exchanging credits, and lining up to congratulate her on the victory.

“Good job, general!”

“We owe you one.”

“If you want a list of the men who bet against you, just let me know.”

The last one was from Captain Hall: strict and intense and owner of shoulder-length curly hair Amara was more than a little envious of.

“I appreciate that, captain, but don’t be too hard on the boys.” She took another look around at the loose postures, wide smiles. “I think they needed some fun.”

Hall grunted and walked off. Amara wondered how long it would be before he assigned those clones on his list to latrine duty. She sighed and glanced down at Maverick, who was now lying on his back with his eyes closed, brown cheeks flushed a darker color.

He’d made a good effort against her, Amara would give him that. There were a few times she even thought he might get the better of her, but, like she’d told Commander Riv, the 104th had trained her well. She swallowed thickly, the thought of them now a familiar ache, and nudged Maverick’s side with her foot. He cracked an eye open and she held out a hand to help him up.

“You, uh,” he pulled his hand back and scratched at his neck, looked everywhere but at her, “weren’t so bad, general.”

“Not so bad?” Helix snorted from behind him. “She kicked your shebs, brother.”

The clone medic ruffled Maverick’s short curly hair, the fade making the top puff up higher than normal, and gave him a once-over. “You’ll live, though. Looks like the general knows how to pull her punches.”

Maverick pushed him away, ignoring Helix’s laughs as he turned to face Amara fully. She smiled at him.

“You’re a good fighter, Maverick. I’d say it’s a shame you’re not ground forces, but like I said, I’ve seen your flight stats.” She winked. “Almost beats mine.”

“Is there anything you can’t do?” He mumbled under his breath.

“I can’t fight this war on my own.”

Silence fell between them as Maverick contemplated her words and Amara couldn’t help but feel like she’d been in this situation before. Wolffe had caved, eventually, but there was more between them. There always had been.

When Maverick still didn’t speak, Amara felt herself growing frustrated. Thinking of Wolffe hadn’t helped matters.

“If we want a chance at finishing this war, this battalion needs to be a team, Maverick. All of us. When we first met I said that I would earn your trust, and I will. But you hold a lot of weight with these men, you’re my second-in-command up in the air, their leader when I’m gone. I need to know you’re willing to at least give me a chance.”

He looked off to the side, eyes narrowed. “I’ve lost a lot of my brothers since the beginning of this war.”

Amara sighed, softening her voice. “And I’ve lost a lot of my friends.”

His eyes shot back to her at that, confusion flooding the hazy colors of his aura before it settled into something more … calm, content. Amara took the opportunity and continued.

“I handle things differently than many of the other Jedi you’ve worked with. It’s not because I want you to like me or because I don’t take this fight seriously. I was at Tibrin.” She let that sink in with him, watched his back straighten at the planet’s name, before she continued. “I’ve seen the worst of what this war can do and though I am not naive enough to say that I will never let anything like that happen again, I am sure enough to tell you that if it does, it will not be because we don’t work well together.”

Maverick eyed her for another moment before holding out his hand.

“Then I guess that’s what we should do.”

Amara fought back a sigh of relief as she took his hand in hers and shook. Maverick’s smirk returned as they let go.

“I lied before, you know. You’re better than ‘not so bad’.”

“Is that so?”

“I’ve got a list of men who could use a shaking up every now and then, if you ever wanna spar again. Just, uh,” he looked around, eyes falling on Riv across the room, “maybe don’t tell the commander, eh?”

What was it with this battalion and lists? Still, Amara laughed, enjoying this new side to her arrogant pilot. “Our secret, then.”

Before turning away, Maverick gave her a tight but honest smile. “Welcome to the Four-Fourteen, General Kora.”

Her worries lightened, just a bit, as she watched him leave. Maverick didn’t trust her fully, yet, she could feel that much. But this was progress, and that was something. She soaked in the success, trying to ignore the questions that lingered.

How much longer until her attachments to these men became just as strong and complicated as her attachments to the 104th? How much longer until she, once again, lost more than she could save?

“All right, general?”

Commander Riv stepped up next to her and Amara shook her head. “Just thinking about all the things we still have to do this week.”

Riv nodded as they walked out of the room. “At least we didn’t get called to Christophsis. That’ll be a tough one for the 501st and 212th so soon after Tibrin.”

Amara stopped in the hallway. “Christophsis?” She’d been so busy with the Four-Fourteen she hadn’t heard about Anakin and Obi-Wan being sent anywhere. The last news she’d heard about the Outer Rim planet was that it was a possible target for the CIS, but nothing had come of it yet.

Riv looked back at her as he explained. “Dooku sent the Retail Caucus to capture the planet. Brought some fancy new clankers with them, too, I hear. Hopefully won’t be too much trouble for the boys.”

“And the 104th? They haven’t been called up?” She kept her voice calm, even, but she felt Riv’s curious glance all the same.

“No, sir. Far as I know, they’re being given time to recoup, same as us. They have to train the shinnies sent to replace the—” He cut himself off with a cough.

Amara clinched her fists at her side, trying to sort through the mixture of emotions in her chest. Relief that the 104th was, for now, safe on Coruscant. Sorrow at the idea of the battalion moving on without her, and her without them. Anger at the reminder of all the needless loss on Tibrin. Worry about Anakin and his men.

She took a deep breath and let each feeling go, as much as she could, anyway. There was nothing she could do for any of them right now. No problems of theirs she could solve, no comfort she could give. But there were several responsibilities she needed to take care of for the Four-Fourteen. She needed to focus on her own men.

“Well,” Amara smiled, “if anyone is capable of handling that, it’s Obi-Wan and Anakin.” She paused. “Maybe more so Obi-Wan, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

Riv chuckled before launching into a report of the battalion’s training progress that day and plans for the rest of the week. Amara gave him her full attention but allowed a small part of her mind to send a plea to the Force that Christophsis wouldn’t turn into another Tibrin, that she’d see Anakin again.

And that the 104th would stay safe on this planet for just a little longer.

*****

Another three days passed and Amara found herself sitting in her office laughing with Commander Riv. The Four-Fourteen’s training was complete, for now, and the next day would be their last on Coruscant before they were shipped across the galaxy on their first mission. Things had lightened up within the battalion since Amara’s spar with Maverick, and she was much more confident about her place within the group — about her place as their leader.

It helped that Riv was proving to be the best possible commander she could have asked for as a general. That wasn’t a slight against Wolffe, just a sign of how much he had taught her.

Riv was patient and determined, kind and resolute. Over the past week he’d been the perfect balance to Amara’s style of working and a good partner in handling the Four-Fourteen. She trusted him, and that trust made everything easier. He’d become something of a friend, and it helped to know that she wasn’t alone in this fight or in this battalion with Riv by her side.

Even if it also made her miss Wolffe all the more.

She didn’t see him when she looked at Riv. Despite the obvious genetic similarities and the same regulation haircut and clean shaven face, the two clones couldn’t be more different. Riv was softer around the edges, more relaxed, more trusting. The aura around his Force color was almost always calm. He was the opposite of Wolffe, and he was exactly who Amara needed in order to lead.

But she missed the intensity of Wolffe. The challenge in his words, the passion he brought out of her.

She missed the weight of his gaze on her skin.

And that was why it was for the best, really, that he wasn’t here. With Riv, at least, there would be no distractions. Laughter, of course, and camaraderie, but those were distractions even Jedi, and especially clones, needed every now and then in a war. She was glad she could find them with her commander.

“I want to say I can’t believe Helix would ever do something so ridiculous as to intentionally upset a puffer pig, but,” Amara shook her head, “I actually can.”

Riv chuckled as he stood from his seat. “We were all shinnies once.”

Amara raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me you have stories of your own, commander?”

“Nice try, general,” he scoffed, “but you’ll never get those out of me.”

“The boys probably could, though. I heard there’s a big 79’s outing tonight. You a part of that?”

Riv shrugged. “Figured I might as well. Unless you need my help with anything, of course.”

“Absolutely not. You deserve to celebrate your last free night more than anyone else in this battalion.”

“I know things are different for Jedi, but,” he considered her for a moment, hand hovering at the door panel, “you deserve that, too, general.”

Amara blinked, Riv’s words hitting a little closer to home than she liked. The truth was, she hadn’t taken much of any kind of break since before Tibrin. Things had moved so quickly during the attack and after, going from occupation to fight-and-flight to recovery to transition to training. If it weren’t for how exhausted she was, it would be hard to believe they’d escaped Tibrin only a little over two weeks ago.

Still, the same was true for the 501st and the 212th and yet they were half way across the galaxy on Christophsis. Fighting again. Wearing themselves out again. Amara didn’t know how to give herself a break, how to relax or celebrate when she thought of that. How did the clones do it?

As if reading her mind, Riv sighed. “We have to take what respite we can get, when we can get it. We’re no good out there if we don’t.” He nodded at her and tapped the door panel. “Goodnight, general.”

Amara stared at the door as it slid shut, acutely aware that she was alone with her thoughts. That she would continue to be alone with her thoughts throughout the next twenty-four hours as her men relaxed for one final day.

Even though Riv had all but told her to relax, too, she wasn’t sure what to do with her time. Meditate? Pour over strategy again? Ask the council for a short, menial task that would keep her mind and hands busy? She’d never had this problem before.

Something poked at the back of her mind and, grateful for the interruption of her spiraling thoughts, Amara waved her door open before Plo had the chance to knock.

“Anxious, Amara?” Plo asked as he stepped up to her desk, the corner of his eyes creasing so she knew he was smiling under his mask.

“Are my thoughts that loud?”

“Only to me, I suspect.”

Amara motioned for her old master to sit down. She hadn’t spoken to or seen him since that day in the Temple garden, the day she’d agreed to become general of the Four-Fourteen. It wasn’t the longest time they’d gone without speaking, but it wasn’t exactly normal, either. Especially when they were both on Coruscant. She could admit that her avoidance was partly because she’d been busy with her battalion, partly because she didn’t want to be tempted to ask about the 104th.

“How are things?” That wasn’t exactly asking about they’re— his men, was it?

Plo folded his hands in his lap and chuckled. “The 104th are doing well. Wolffe assures me the new troopers are ready for when we ship out.”

“That’s good.” Amara fiddled with the ‘pad on her desk, decided she might as well ask if she was caught anyway. “So Wolffe’s healed, then? He’s better?”

“Was he not when you last saw him?”

“Considering I last saw him on board the Resolute …” She cleared her throat, tamping down the frustration she apparently still felt at him avoiding her in the barracks. “No, he wasn’t. Not entirely.”

“Hmm.” Plo stared at her, waiting for her to continue, perhaps, to tell him what was really on her mind. But Amara had nothing else she wanted to say. She stared back at him until he spoke. “How are things with you?”

“You’re avoiding my question, master.”

“So are you, my former Padawan.”

She shrugged. Despite her efforts, frustration was creeping into her earlier good mood. But it wasn’t Plo’s fault she missed Wolffe. “Things are great. The Four-Fourteen are a brilliant group of soldiers. They’ll do well out there.”

Plo waited again and she knew this time he wouldn’t speak until he found the answer he was looking for. He’d seen how torn she was about her decision, seen her cry. She owed him a better response.

Part of her wanted to bring up her dream. She’d forced herself to not think about it this past week and had been mostly successful, but it was still there, on the edges of her mind, waiting for her to worry about it more. Her old master would undoubtedly know what to do, where to point her, what questions to ask. He might even have some answers himself. But as much as she wanted to talk about it, her desire to keep pretending it didn’t happen was stronger.

“I’m … nervous,” she settled on the truth, just not completely. “I’m nervous, but I’m OK.” And it was true, wasn’t it? She was in a much better place than she had been a week earlier, fretting over her future in the garden. “I’m not at peace, exactly, but I think I’m somewhere close? Acceptance, maybe.”

The creases around Plo’s mask reappeared, but Amara sensed something else on his mind. A tenseness and worry she hadn’t felt since her early days as his Padawan.

“You’re not just here to check on me, are you?”

“No, though I am pleased to see you doing well.”

It was Amara’s turn to wait on him to continue. She settled back into her chair and let him find his words.

“I would like to ask a favor of you. It is nothing serious, but it does have to do with Ahsoka.”

Amara straightened, immediately on alert. “Is she all right?” If anything happened to the young Togruta, Plo would be devastated.

He raised a hand. “Yes, yes everything is fine. Master Yoda, along with most of the council, have decided to graduate her to the rank of Padawan. She is to be assigned a master in the coming days.”

“And that master won’t be you?”

Plo hesitated before answering. “No. It will not.”

Amara felt a sudden flash of panic. “It’s not me, is it?” She cared greatly for Ahsoka, had spent a lot of time around her as Plo’s Padawan, but she could barely handle a change of battalions. She was nowhere near ready to take on a young learner, too.

“No,” Plo chuckled. “As far as I know, they have not yet decided to whom Ahsoka will be sent. But I want to make sure she is prepared when that decision is made.”

“And this favor?”

“Is simple. Tomorrow, guide Ahsoka around the military headquarters, the training complex, the barracks. Introduce her to people. She knows most of the 104th already, but I want her to see where she will be spending most of her time soon.” He paused, considered his next words before voicing them. “I want her to have a better understanding of what is to come.”

He was worried and, Amara tilted her head at the emotion coursing through his aura, sad. She thought she could understand why.

Padawan learners were not just learners right now. Amara had seen a few in the field already, so young and unprepared. In the midst of a war, they had to become soldiers, but they weren’t trained for this. No Jedi was, really, but especially not the young ones. They’d never killed, never used their lightsabers for anything other than practice sparring. They were innocent souls being asked to trade their peaceful training for blaster fire and bombs.

Ahsoka would understand this soon enough, and that was certainly something to mourn.

“I would take this on myself,” Plo continued, “but the council is meeting tomorrow to discuss reports from Christophsis. And I have a … feeling that Ahsoka’s tour should happen sooner rather than later.”

Amara knew Plo’s feelings well. If he said this was important, he wasn’t exaggerating. Besides, this would give her something to do that wasn’t sitting around and worrying about her battalion, about Wolffe, about everything.

“Of course I’ll do it, Master Plo.”

His shoulders relaxed and he stood. “Thank you, Amara.” When he reached the door, he looked back at her, mischief taking over the former sadness in his aura. “By the way, the 104th will be training tomorrow. Ahsoka might feel more comfortable if she speaks with them at some point. She has a special affinity for Wolffe, I believe. I will send you their schedule.”

Once again, Amara was left staring at her office door as it slid shut. If she focused hard enough, she swore she could feel Plo’s humor in the Force.

#w: a shattered peace #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x oc #wolffe x oc #jedi oc #wolffe #the clone wars #clone fic #clone trooper oc

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