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imaginesmai · 9 months ago

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Feelings I cannot express - Eris Vanserra

Wow, look at that! Me, avoiding responsabilities and writing another Eris fic for which I have no time! What a surprise! Enjoy this LONG LONG PIECE that has consumed my time lately. Shout-out to @glitterypirateduck who is too in her Eris' era.

Plot: Five times Eris didn’t know how to express his feelings, and one time he did

Warnings: descriptions of violence and blood. Mean Eris when he doesn't know how to express his feelings. Troubled, traumatized boi.

His steps were wobbly, and he had already stopped three times to catch his breath. Each time, the ground seemed closer, more tempting. Eris always cared about the impression people had of him, and in his court, he polished it like nowhere.

The strong, cruel prince that matched his father’s temper. Someone who they wouldn’t mess with, someone who would reign one day when Beron was gone. Only the silent corridors were the witness of that other part of him, the real one, that was leaving bloodied prints on the walls.

Beron had raised his hand against his mother, like many other times. He had crossed her beautiful and soft face with a hard slap, just because she dared to share her opinion on a political matter. And Eris had unconsciously let his power flare. Just an ember, a spark in his middle finger.

His father had seen, and had deemed right to remind him where was his position in his court. Lashes had ripped his back into shreds, blood trailing down his arms and legs. He had finished two hours before dawn, but Eris hadn’t been able to move until the night was already started. That way, he made sure no one saw his vulnerable form.

Eris closed the doors of his room as soon as he was inside, and stumbled into his bed. Falling face first, he closed his eyes and willed his conscious to leave him. No one heard his prayers, and he was still wide awake when his door opened again.

He would have been startled, alert or even afraid, but your scent sneaked in before you entered. Eris groaned in acknowledgement, and he knew any warnings or threats were useless against you. You already knew the dangers of your actions, the consequences of being involved with him. And yet, you were always there.

“Can you take off your clothes?” you broke the sinister silence of the room with quiet steps. “I’ll run you a bath”

“Where’s my brother?”

“Asleep” you answered, brushing your soft knuckles against his locks. “Don’t worry about it”

Flynn, the younger Vanserra brother, had tight sleep schedules, so part of his worry faded away. It wouldn’t do him any good if someone found his younger brother’s betrothed in a light sleeping gown.

Eris heard you filling the bath with water, and tried not to let the guilt worry. The first time you had helped him, he had threatened to burn you alive, and gone as far as give you a nasty burn scar on your left forearm. You hadn’t left, and he hadn’t thanked you. While you two ignored each other in the court ministrations, it was your secret routine – you, a stranger promised to a monster, helping him among his dearest family and friends.

Not once in his life he had let someone so close to his torment, to his vulnerability – to his body. People assumed he had tons of lovers, but he couldn’t stomach the thought of someone touching him. With you, he had discovered in the last years, it was different.

Your hand on his shoulder startled him back to reality, and he finally looked at you. There were dark bags under your eyes, a determinated look fixed on him.

“It’s ready” you tilted your head slightly. “Can you get up on your own?”

“Of course. Get away” he scoffed, but didn’t argue when you stabilized him by his elbow when he rose. “I don’t need your help. You’re more a liability than a support”

“I know you can do it, Eris” you didn’t even blink at his mean words, nor reacted when he tried to push you away. “Maybe we should take your tunic off before – “

“Get off me!”

Eris didn’t measure his strength when he pushed you off, just desperate to shake the feeling of kind hands that he didn’t deserve. That would never be his.

You stumbled back and got your feet tangled between the carpet, which caused you to fall on your butt. He physically flinched when your hands broke your fall, when he saw you suck a breath in pain. But he wouldn’t apologize, he never did. If being the worst person alive meant you would live, if hurting you meant no one would do it, then he could carry the guilt and self-hate just fine.

From the ground, he felt your eyes on him as he striped his clothes. They fell to the ground, his tunic nothing but ripped shreds of cloth. His vest wasn’t much better, or his shirt. Only his pants had been saved from the bloodbath. Eris made a point by not looking at you while he undressed, leaving his briefs on.

He didn’t need to look into a mirror to know that the way your body tensed from the corner of his eye wasn’t an exaggeration. Every fiber of his body screamed at him when he walked towards the bathroom, when he heard you get up in a rush and follow him.

The fact that you didn’t demand an apology or got angry at him rubbed all the wrong spots.

“Let me warm the water”

“I can do it myself, little fox”

Still, your hand sneaked and you dipped it into the water, and within seconds steam started to fill the bathroom. Eris stared at that particular spot between your shoulder and neck, where he wished he could thank you with a soft kiss. Wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into the bath with him. Be the person you would lay with that night.

“Do you want me to help you in?”

“What I want you to do is to leave” he answered as the temperature of the room rose. “I want you to lay with your future husband and forget about me”

“I can’t do that, Eris” you casted him a glance. “I can help you in though”

His anger rose back up and he didn’t say anything when you straightened back up. Your fire magic was only a spark of his own, only useful for warming water or lighting a chimney. That you had to use yours because he was too spent was a disgrace upon himself.

Eris made a point to leave his back to you inside the tub, letting the warm water wash the blood away. He pushed his head between his arms and ignored your presence. Ignored your warm hands as they brushed the wounds so they wouldn’t get infected. Ignored your quiet movements as you left healing and numbing creams on the counter. Tried to ignore you when you massaged his shoulders and scalp, cleaning his hair like his mother used to do.

Eventually, you decided to leave him alone in his rooms. After helping him get up from the bathtub and into the bed. Tucking him in like a stubborn child, turning off the candles. Only when your hand brushed his hair one last time, he noticed the new addition to your beautiful wrist.

He gripped it before you could hide it, and for the first time in the whole night, you flinched. Not because his touch was rough, since he held it like expensive glass. Not because you were afraid, because with him, you never were.

“This is new” he whispered in the dark room, staring at the bruises along your delicate skin. “What happened?”

“He just got a little handsy. Flynn…” you doubted before you sighed, sitting on his bed. “Your father has been pushing him more and more about the weeding. He left this morning with him to hunt in the forest, so I can only guess they talked about it. So he got drunk. And I was late for dinner, because he hadn’t informed me it would be early tonight”

“Anywhere else?” he asked, and eyed you with enough intensity to warn you against lying.

“I’m fine”

You had been raised for that, Eris guessed, and that was normal for you. Being sold to the best buyer for your hand, endure a shitty betrothed until you were to marry and he could ignore you properly. Eris didn’t dare to think about how things would be if your position allowed him to marry you. If his father saw you worthy of his first-born.

But you were stuck with Flynn Vanserra, a man uncapable of love and caring. A man who did worse things than a bruised wrist.

“Be careful” he allowed himself to say, just because it was dark, and you couldn’t see the real concern and fear of someone finding out about your behavior in his room. “Don’t let anyone see you leave my rooms. And don’t come back. I don’t need you”

“Good night, Eris” you rose from bed, and Eris missed the warmth of your wrist against his fingers. “Don’t forget the creams”

With silent steps, you left his room, and Eris spent the night awake wondering of you could see right past his lies, past his fake cruelty and indifference towards you. If you could see how much he cared about his brother’s betrothed.

It wasn’t too often that the palace opened its door for lesser fae. On special occasions, his father allowed them to attend to the main hall and see what they were missing because of their condition. Beron took out the elegant clothes, the expensive wine and bright plates. And then, he didn’t let them use any of that and had them watch from the corner the superiority of his family.

Eris didn’t particularly care about those events, but he had been forced to attend to that one – since it was his own birthday. He didn’t celebrate his birthday, he didn’t get presents. Not when years of monotony rolled by and nothing changed. His mother had been the only one wishing him happy birthday that morning, kissing the side of his head quickly and reminding him to be nice.

To stand by and endure his father’s show of power at his expense. All his brothers were there too, and not too far from Flynn, you too.

You were wearing an orange dress that emulated autumns leaves. Each time you moved, lights reflected yellow and brown sparks that had the lesser fae turning their heads around. Eris too couldn’t keep his eyes away from your form for too long, with the risk of being caught.

Flynn seemed to be least affected by your looks, or your presence. While you were required to stay by his side and be faithful, he dragged you through countless humiliation. Talking and flirting with other women when you were standing a few feet away, ignoring your attempts to start conversations, leaving you while you greeted a friend.

Eri’s nails were imprinted on his palms from how hard he closed his fists each time it happened. He had almost set fire to a curtain when he had been close enough to watch your crestfallen expression.

To avoid anyone noticing him staring at you like a hawk or turning his brother into ashes, he busied himself with pointless talks and stupid politics. He endured it for three long hours, and then he granted himself a rest excusing himself for the bathroom.

He knew you had been following him since he left the ballroom, but didn’t acknowledge you until you were far from the crowd. Eris walked through the hallways and across the backyard, and stopped only when he reached the stables. Then, he turned around and his heart skipped a beat at your sight.

Your beautiful hair had been let down, and you were wearing a crown of golden leaves. Everything in your attire claimed you were their possession, but you weren’t his to look at, to enjoy. So he raised a brow and waited for you to talk.

“You’re hard to catch” you started. “Someone might think you’re running away from me”

“Maybe I’m running away from your annoying presence”

You scoffed and he hated and loved that you didn’t seem affected by his words. There was no truth behind it, just the urge of hearing your voice in your reply.

“I want to wish you happy birthday” you confessed, and even your voice was sweeter that night. “Haven’t seen you in all day”

“I’ve been busy” he lied.

Shamefully, he had waited for your visit for hours. Last year you had been the first one to wish him happy birthday, and he had remembered for the whole year the feeling of your lips against his cheek. It had been a friendly kiss, although it had been the only time he had seen you blush. And during the hard days, he held onto that memory like a lifesaver.

You hummed and tucked your hands in front of you. Eris tried not to notice the silver ring that claimed you as his brother’s possession, the distinction from other women. You never wore it, but you had to in events like that one.

In the silence that followed his lie, Eris’ whole body relaxed. His shoulders dropped, his fist untightened and his jaw unclenched. His nostrils flared slightly as he took in your scent, and finally, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.

“Happy birthday, Eris” you finally said, and smiled brightly at him. “Do you want to open your present?”

“Present?” he blinked surprised, the question catching him off guard. “You got me a present?”

“Birthdays are supposed to be filled with presents. Extravagant parties are good too, but I think everyone should get a present” you explained. “I tried to keep yours in an envelope, but someone found it before you. And I couldn’t help it. Do you want to see it?”

Eris nodded dumbly. You could offer him a crumb of your lunch and he would gladly treasure it for the rest of his life. Just like he was doing with all your moments together, before you were cruelly snagged into his brother’s arms eventually.

He followed you through the stables, wondering what you could give him. He didn’t remember the last time someone got him a present, a pleasant one. Anything you could give him would be perfect, so he wasn’t worried about liking it or not. He was worried about cracking down and smudging that beautiful lipstick with his own lips.

Like second nature, you walked him towards the pit where he kept his hounds locked. They slept together and were Eris pride and joy, the first and only gift he got from his father. As you unlocked the door, Eris stuffed his hands in his pocket awkwardly. Then, he looked inside.

And broke into a loud, deep chuckle that rattled his bones.

Eris laughed and laughed until he took his hands out of his pockets and had to press them into his stomach, bending over. When he opened his eyes and tried to regain his posture, he lost it over and over again.

“I take it you like it” you chuckled with him.

He missed the way your eyes shone at his laugh, the way you bounced off your feet at his happiness. It had been the only real smile on your lips that night, and it rivaled any of the elegant lamps in the ballroom.

His hounds, the terrifying big dogs that haunted prisoners when they got out of his dungeons and tracked down traitors, had each one fox knitted hats. Who had ripped fae apart with their sharp teeth and devoured limbs like butter. They all stared at you with oblivious calm and a fox hat.

“They look – they look so ridiculous” Eris managed to say between laughs, and pointed at Maximus, who had its head titled and one of the ears had bent down. “And so happy! How did you put them on? This is the best present I could ask for”

“Oh, they didn’t put much of a fight when I sneaked some treats” you shrugged, and Eris broke into another laugh. “Besides, they like me too much not to let me do it”

“You’re a devious creature, little fox” he scoffed, and finally looked at you. “You are – “

Whatever he was about to say died when he caught the glimpse of the moon light hitting your ring. The ring that reminded him that you may have given him a birthday present, but everything else belonged to Flynn. He caught the words he was about to say and stuffed them down his chest. He forced himself to look away from your expectant expression, and swallow the guilt.

You would never be happy with him, but neither would you be with Flynn. Your fate in that court was sealed, yet you would keep your life with the youngest Vanserra.

“Thank you for the present, Y/N” he managed to say, not daring to look back at his hounds.

“You’re welcome, Eris” you copied his formal, clipped tone in a mocking way, noticing the change of the atmosphere but not caring about it. “Maybe next time I could knit you one for yourself”

“I’m afraid I look nothing like a fox. More like a snake perhaps”

“And I’m afraid you’re too hard on yourself, but we aren’t considering our deliriums”

Eris opened his mouth to argue, but he felt them coming before you did. A couple, probably drunk and lesser fae, had snuck into the gardens. And they probably wouldn’t recognize you, wouldn’t report to his father about your reunion. But Eris couldn’t risk your safety, not when you were the only thing that made him be glad of being alive for another year.

He caught your arm in a tight grip and your eyes widened before listening to their steps. You didn’t have to look to know the couple was staring. In your eyes, Eris could see his own fear of having those short and meaningless meetings cut short because of a snitch. He hated that you weren’t afraid of his tight grip or the fire in his eyes, but because of the retaliations if you were discovered.

One of his hounds poked a lazy head to see what the silence was about, but saw no threat and turned away. And to ensure it wouldn’t turn into a threat, Eris put on his heir-mask, the hatred and cruel prince everyone expected him to be, and snarled with fire under his tongue the venom he knew you didn’t believe.

“And if I ever see you snooping again, I’ll have your head on a pike in your weeding chambers. Tell my dear brother to shorten the leash of his belongings” he pressed on. He caught on the couple’s sniff of fear and respect, but also your own hurt. Hurt at the words he was blading for your protection, he told himself, that were necessary. “Leave before I change my mind”

With a final hard push, he threw you a few feet away from him. You looked down and scrambled away from him, and the couple left too. Eris was left alone with his foxed-hounds, and the horrid realization that hurting you was the only way of keeping you safe.

Eris paced the length of your room for what felt like forever. He had already noticed every detail you kept in your room that made it so you, had fought with the inadequate feeling of invading your personal space. He had had time enough to consider if he was going insane and paranoid, but it was late and you weren’t there.

You always retreated to your rooms early in the night. Sometimes, he knew because he accompanied you when his brother was too drunk to remember your presence. Other times, he knew because you sneaked into his dorms right before night set. You were supposed to be there with him, teasing him for not being able to look away from the lingerie that lay forgotten in your armchair.

But you weren’t, and Eris was pacing.

That morning, as you all had lunch as a family, his mother had asked an inadequate but innocent answer. It was only logical that after almost five years of courting you started talking about the actual weeding, but you weren’t. Because his brother was too much of a dick to entertain it until he had enjoyed his youth to the fullest, and because you sneaked glances at him when no one was looking.

You had given her a simple answer – love matters took time, and better be safe than sorry. While everyone agreed quietly, Eris had noticed the way Flynn’s face darkened. As if the idea of you answering a question directed to both of you was inadequate.

Eris had left the dining room with an uneasy feeling, and had kept it in his stomach all day. When you hadn’t appeared during dinner time nor had his brother, he had decided to search for you.

You weren’t in the stables, where you spent most of your time between horses and his hounds. You weren’t in the kitchen, where you snuck off when Flynn got too much to handle. And you weren’t anywhere he looked, so he had decided to let the worry get the best out of him and wait for you in your rooms.

As if the thought of you had summoned you, the doors opened and Eris turned around in a frenzy.

“Thank the cauldron” he scoffed, already replacing the worry with anger. “Where the fuck have you been all day? Do I really have to wait here if I want to…”

“I’m sorry” you apologized, your voice void of any fire or charm.

He tried to make himself argue with you further, to explain his presence in your room with a stupid excuse and not let you know he had been worried. There was no blood or visible wounds on you, not new bruises or burns he can explain his sudden lack of words with.

But he could see something there, that made his blood boil and his heart beat furiously against his chest. You walked past him in silence and removed your heels next to your wardrobe. Without saying anything or acknowledging his presence, you peeled the eiderdown off and climbed inside the bed.

Only then he watched your shoulders tight as you tried to keep the cries to yourself. Eris walked on autopilot to the edge of your bed, and watched in silent horror as tears fell down your face. You were squeezing your eyes shut, probably wanting to be left alone, but he found himself sitting on the edge of the bed. Just like you had done so many times.

It was so different from what he knew, what you did with him, that he didn’t know what to do. Hesitantly, he caressed your shoulder and you whined, your body turning around so you could face him.

“What happened?” he asked, his hand trembling with the effort of staying on your shoulder and not brushing the tears away.

“He locked me in a basement, because he said he was tired of seeing me everywhere and hearing me all the time” you admitted, curling your body around his. “There was no light. And I was fine, but he didn’t come back and I called. And no one answered and – “

Your explanation died with the first sob, and many followed. Eris knew what basement you were talking about. His father had locked him and his brothers many times in the past. Big enough to allow a standing person, but not to let them sit. Tight enough so a part of your body was always touching the wall, and dark enough to rob your breath.

Eris willed the words stuck on his throat to leave him. He wanted to lay down beside you and comfort you like he should. He wanted to break every last of his brother’s bones, and then some more.

“I was so scared” you admitted quietly, finally opening your eyes to look at him. “I thought – I thought I’d been forgotten”

“How did you get out?”

“Beron heard me”

He didn’t need to ask for further details, just tried to keep eye contact as your beautiful eyes were constantly drowning in tears and sorrow. His father was as cruel as Flynn, but until you were officially married, he still had to ensure your safety for your family’s sake.

You cried against his side and eventually your body gravitated to his lap. His free hand carefully brushed yours, and you held it so tight and hard that Eris choked his own cry. How many times he had felt alone in his own home? Forgotten in that same basement while Beron went hunting, or partying?

The thought of you locked in those four walls turned his stomach up. You, with your easy smile and your kind words. Full of kindness and love that no one in that court deserved, certainly not him.

Still, Eris held his ground sitting on your bed. He lighted some candles and sealed the room with a glamour against sound and strangers. The rational part of his brain told him to leave before someone came looking for him, the irrational part to do worse things. But he stayed on your bed, stroking his thumb across the back of your hand and brushing his fingers against the nape of your neck.

As you cried, Eris begged himself to do something with the words that resonated in his heart.

“You’re not forgotten, I could never forget you. I won’t”

“He could try and hide you in the last corner of the universe and I would still crawl my way to you, my little fox”

His mouth was kept shut and his fingers continued his ministration, until your breath slowed and your sobs disappeared. Then, when you were about to fall asleep with his hand in yours, you opened your eyes one last time and gave him a small smile. Maybe he hadn’t said anything, but he was starting to suspect you could read his mind and heart.

“I’m glad you came for me” you confessed quietly. “Thank you”

He should have said that he didn’t accept your gratefulness, that he wasn’t worthy of them. Instead, he smiled back and stared at you while you fell asleep. With his heart roaring just a big wilder.

His court was under attack.

Eris had come to that realization a month ago, when a missive from Hybern had reached their borders with a threat of dead and destruction. In that moment, he had thought it had been a minor attack. A political attack, a threat with little importance in a world where everybody hated his court.

But then, his father had dismissed the king demands and patrols started to go missing. Parts of those patrols came back, traumatized soldiers that died in a few days but that had enough time to scream horrors. More soldiers were sent into the forest, and more soldiers died.

For a month, Hybern had debilitated them in their own home until most of the army was unavailable. And now, his home was under attack.

The top part of the palace was on fire, people ran desperately through the corridors and soldiers from both sides fought in the backyard. Eris was sure Beron would be able to win that battle, maybe the war. Yet what worried him was that Beron didn’t particularly care about causalities, and there were many that had Eris’ heart in a knot.

He had managed to take his mother to safety, to a hidden room where women and children waited. He expected to see you there too, but instead, had found a hiding Flynn that didn’t answer his questions.

Eris had left his brother in the middle of a hallway with a shutten eye and two broken legs that wouldn’t let him get away from the soldiers. He hoped he would get killed so Eris wouldn’t be the one to carry the task.

As he ran through the castle against the waves of running people, the fire on his veins roared louder. What would he do, if he came upon the worst scenario? Would he crash his home down? It had been eight months since his birthday, and he had come to the realization he feared the most. That those times he seemed to spot you among a crowd, when his soul sang for you, where for a reason.

He hadn’t found the courage to tell you yet about the golden string he tugged at sometimes, hoping you would turn around and confirm his suspicions.

If he lost his mate today because of his brother’s cowardice, because of a war his father had started out of greed, Eris wasn’t sure the world would be a safe place for anyone anymore.

Asking the running members of his court would be useless, as it would be worrying about them seeing his panic-stricken expression. Eris focused on running and following his instinct, until it led him to the stables. The place where you had shared so many memories that was now a bloodbath.

Soldiers were lying on the ground, dead and unconscious, some of them begging for his help as he stepped over their bodies. The heart of the battle was close enough he could hear and smell death looming, but all of that died down when he finally saw you.

“Eris!” you cried out his name, and what was left of his heart clenched at the broken sound. “Eris I –“

Your cries were muffled by a rough hand over your mouth, of a soldier that hadn’t seen him yet. You were being dragged towards a carriage, your limbs flying around as you tried to get free from the enemies’ grip. Eris would have time to thank fate for allowing him to reach you on time, before you were taken away from him permanently.

Fire licked the carriage’s front, not letting their occupancies leave untouched. It consumed the vehicle in a matter of seconds, burning so powerful and tight that Eris felt light headed for a second. His power felt like a bottomless pit where he could dive without consequences, so he did just that.

Unleashing his short swords, he used both hands to clean his path towards you. The soldiers realized shortly after that their scape root was compromised, but too late that who had compromised it was the crown’s heir.

They didn’t stand a chance against his rage, his power. They fell to the ground like flies while all Eris saw was red. Red seeping through your wounds into the ground, staining your dress. Red pooling the earth beneath his feet as every last soldier fell to their death. Red of his power, that consumed every threat against his mate.

Once he was done, he crashed to his knees in front of you, and the fire died all together when your arms locked around his neck. He didn’t contemplate what it would look like when he pushed you farther into his embrace, listening to your heartbeat like a lullaby.

“You shouldn’t be outside” Eris whispered against your hair, the remains of his anger seeping through them. “If you were smart, you would have stayed inside. Dumb woman. What were you thinking?”

“I wanted to find you”

Your admission didn’t catch him off guard. You sounded so sincere, so relieved, that he only got angrier. Why was fate so cruel to bond him with such a kind soul? Of course, of every reason you could have gone outside, you would have chosen him.

“I didn’t know if you were okay” you continued, lifting your face from his chest to look at him. “What if you had been hurt?”

“And what would you do, hm?” Eris almost cut you off, suddenly repulsed by your touch.

That he had let you get so close to put yourself in danger was a mistake. It had been a mistake the first time he looked at you long enough to discover how bright your smile was. A mistake each time he had allowed you in his room to tend his wounds, every conversation you two had in secret.

There was no answer to his questions, and you knew it. Eris got up and didn’t offer you a hand, instead turning his face away from you. Closing his eyes tightly, he tried to ignore the endless thoughts about what could have happen. The things he should have done better, because none of that mattered now.

Eris tried to ignore you when you finally got up and grabbed his hand. Your hand caressed his fingers, his hands, his arms. You caressed his skin as if he hadn’t just slaughtered ten strong, healthy soldiers with families.

“I somehow do irrational things when it comes to you” you spoke quietly, wrapping your hands around his elbow. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get in trouble. But the thought of you being hurt… I’m sorry”

“Let’s get you to safety” he grumbled, not acknowledging your apology.

He imagined what it would feel like to have you hanging from his arm in different circumstances, maybe in another world. Briefly, he indulged himself and slowed his steps so he could soak into it. There were bodies and blood, sounds of battle and death cries, but none of them seemed to matter as you walked down the hallways to the hidden room.

The battle was already dying down, but it wouldn’t be safe until nighttime. Eris would make sure every last enemy was death before letting you set a foot outside the safe room. He vowed himself to distance himself enough to never repeat that moment, and to protect you with whatever it took him. Indifference, cruelty. Whatever put you to safety.

What he couldn’t control was a last moment of vulnerability. He stopped right before the discrete doors where his mother and the rest of women and children waited. Turning to face you, his heart got the best of him and raised his arm without his consent.

“Be safe” you begged him. “Please. I don’t want to lose you”

“I will, little fox”

Eris tucked a strand of your hair, sticky with blood behind your ear. He watched like a hawk the cherry blush that painted your cheeks, the contained smile that you hid horribly. Instead of retreating, he let curious fingers explore the curve of your cheekbone. Your jawline, your chin. The curve of your nose and your lips.

His traitor fingers stopped at your bottom lip, tugging it down. It should have bothered him that those lips were meant for his brother, that they had already tasted him when his brother had gotten too handsy. But it didn’t, because they looked so kissable that he thought he had imagined it when you leaned forward.

When your eyes fluttered closed and his body gravitated too, he thought he imagined. The distance became shorter and everything became white noise. Eris had dreamed so long about it that he thought he was dreaming.

But not even his dreams were so livid, so real. He blinked one last time before crashing into your lips with a straining force. You tasted like blood from your open lip, and like clouds and sky and perfection. There were teeth and tongue and he couldn’t control himself more than the kiss.

Shockingly, he was the one pushed against the opposite door, your much smaller body trapping him as you grabbed him by the shoulders. He stole every breath and whine that left your mouth with kissing. For those few seconds, he let himself explore each inch of your mouth like it was the last minute of his life.

It might had been, if someone saw you with him and told Beron. His father thought had him pushing you away, so hard you stumbled down.

“Get inside” Eris demanded you, gripping your elbow harshly. You blinked with those swollen lips and rosy cheeks, and he clenched his jaw.

“Eris…”

“Don’t come out, not until I come back. Be fucking smart for once in your life” he opened the door and dozens of women stared at you two.

Something in his chest stilled when your eyes widened and that bond became alive. When he was certain that you felt the same tug he had been feeling for a long time, that he had lost sleep over. It dawned to him that nothing would be the same after that day, whether the attack finished or not. Whether his father found out or those women kept silent.

So, for the first time in his life, Eris let himself accept those hidden feelings and kissed you one last time. Slow, deep, in front of his mother who covered her mouth with a surprised gasp. He dragged his lips between yours, only for a second.

When he tore away, Eris was sure he would die happy if that face was the last thing he saw.

“Don’t leave the room until I come back, my little fox. Only me”

Eris didn’t let you answer. He turned around and closed the doors behind him, running down the hallways. Looking for the enemy, for his brother whose betrothed had just kissed, for his father who could kill you both. And away from where his heart was safe with you.

Not even a week of mourning was stablished for the deaths at the Hybern attack. Not even a week for the thousands of soldiers who had died defending his home.

Eris had made sure that every family got their loved ones’ bodies back, and that there was enough wood to light up fires for them. He mourned more for them than for his own family, who had suffered an immense hit.

Flynn Vanserra had been found ravished in a forgotten hallway, his body mangled beyond recognition. People whispered that he had found an end according to his life – cruel, mean, without mercy. Eris stared at his brother’s corpse and curled his lip, because before his death, not a scar marked his body. While he had usen yours like a blank canvas.

Beron Vanserra had died too, and that had rattled Eris’ world.

His father had been the main objective, and after he had fallen from the upper tower, the enemy had retreated. Beron was dead before he hit the ground, courtesy of a dozen poisoned arrows on his chest. Eris had watched his body burn in silence contemplation, thinking about how many times his father had raised his fire against him.

Now, it was Eris who light up his father’s tomb fire.

Days brushed quickly but there was one thing that had him grounded – you. Eris Vanserra was officially a High Lord, so no one argued when you appeared by his arm on Beron’s funeral. When you moved your things to the room besides him.

His people whispered about the caring brother who had taken upon the charge of his betrothed so she wouldn’t be discarded. And about the cruel king who had killed his own brother to wed a nameless girl. Eris didn’t acknowledge any of those comments.

He just kept you close as loyalties were stablished, letting everyone know that you were off limits. For touching, for hurting, for insulting. One noble was brave enough to question your place in the palace with Flynn death, and one noble lost his tongue the next morning.

As everything settled down, Eris found himself taking walks with you through the forest, something his brother had never bothered to do. You hung from his arm gracefully, new and expensive dresses on your wardrobe, and a radiant smile on your face.

“Will you teach me how to ride?” you asked him one sunny afternoon. “So I can ride hunting with you”

“I will get you your own horse if that’s what my mate wants” he let the title sweeten his mouth, warm his heart. “I will get you whatever your heart desire, my little fox”

“Maybe I’ll turn into a spoiled princess then. And you will find your ruin at my expensive demands” you chuckled, shifting closer to him.

You could ask him for a court and he would fight to death with anyone to grant you your own court. You could ask him for his court and he would get on his knees and offer it to you without another word. Those words were meaningless, because you rarely asked him for anything. Even when you had changed rooms, you had been happy with just a bed and a blanket.

“I’m happy with being here, close to you. I don’t need anything else”

The more time he spent with you, the more he marveled at your selflessness. You had been helping those with injuries from the fight, talking with the families who were grieving. By nighttime, you returned to your chambers where Eris was waiting for you, having abandoned his own for yours. You two laid in bed looking at each other until you fell asleep.

Then, Eris spent hours staring at you, letting his heart soak into the comfort.

“You are quiet today” you commented, breaking him from his thoughts. “Court problems?”

Eris always had court problems. The change was coming slowly but surely, and his father’s loyal friends weren’t happy with that. But it wasn’t their enmity that had him deep in thought. The last rays of sun warmed your face as he looked at you with a small smile.

Talking about his feelings was his weakness. He had been mean, cruel and downright villainous to you for years because he couldn’t open his heart to you. He couldn’t endure the thought of you hurting because of his stupid feelings.

But he wanted things to change. He wanted you to be happy and safe, and if he had to share his thoughts and swallow his insecurities, he would.

“I was wondering” he admitted eventually, a little unsure. “We are mate. But… do you think, we would have found each other? If we weren’t?”

You looked surprised at his questions. You hadn’t talked about the bond, just accepted it. When Eris had found you after the battle, you had hugged him tight and kissed him once more. You hadn’t talked about it, and yet, you both were comfortable with it.

After the initial surprise, you gifted him a soft smile, and your eyes crinkled against the sun.

“I would have found you either way, Eris. You had me since I set a foot in this court” you answered him. “I used to worry that there was something wrong with me, because I couldn’t feel anything for Flynn. Not love, not hate. Nothing. Whatever he did was fine because it was the price I paid to stay close to you. And it was worthy”

“Don’t say that, Y/N”

“I can’t, that’s what I feel. And I’m not afraid to tell you that I’ve loved you for a long time, my darling. Long before I knew we were mates and through all we’ve been through. I’m sure I would have loved you even if we weren’t mates”

Eris wondered if he would ever be able to speak so freely about his thoughts. He couldn’t still voice out what he felt for you. How he would turn the world around if you asked him to, how your love was enough to keep him alive forever. For now, though, Eris smiled and leaned down to press a sweet kiss against your nose, earning a soft giggle.

He would tell you all of that someday, show you his feelings when his words were stuck. Eris Vanserra owned you that much.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

#eris vanserra x reader #imaginemai #imaginesmai #angst #one shot #imagine #x reader #fic #imagine mai #imagines mai #acotar #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris #eris vansera #eris vanssera #eris imagine #eris vanserra imagine

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zzprompto · 1 year ago

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☆ the shared bath

geto suguru x male reader [he / him]

sypnosis: two dudes, [name] and suguru, share a totally 100% platonic bath after [name] notices something off about suguru. (meant to be viewed as romantic. happens before the things suguru does, au where everything turns out to be okay?)

the lowercase is intentional !

- brief mentions of nudity (because it's a bath) but no nsfw.

it was the little things [name] seemed to notice first. the way suguru started talking less, how he started wearing his hair up instead of down and how he started to grow bags under his eyes. [name] started to worry, but who wouldn't? sure, [name] wasn't the closest to suguru, that title was reserved for gojo satoru and gojo satoru only, but he was still quite close with the ravenette.

[name] couldn't help but worry. whenever he saw suguru around school grounds, he could feel his heart ache inside his chest and his stomach turn. the poor boy hoped his friend was alright, but that really didn't seem like the case. it was almost as if there was something bugging suguru, but he couldn't tell anyone. maybe he was too afraid? too standoffish to ask for help? whatever it was, [name] was determined to help his friend.

[name] spotted suguru alone on campus, so he walked up to him. it was weird to see suguru alone and without satoru, the two were independent. they were always together, but that didn't seem like the case anymore. it was probably the thing that was bugging suguru caused him to drift apart from satoru is what [name] thought. but, he didn't know the truth.

[name] walked over to suguru and stopped infront of him. "hey.. are you good?" he asked in a soft voice, trying not to startle the ravenette. suguru just looked at [name] and sighed. "i'm fine." is all he replied with in a bored, monotone voice. it seemed clear that suguru didn't want to talk about his feelings, but [name] was still worried. he wanted to find out what was truly wrong.

of course, [name] didn't want to be so persistant that he didn't get an answer from suguru at all, so he had to be creative. the first thing that came into his mind was.. a bath. just him and suguru sharing a bath whilst talking about their feelings. that doesn't sound gay at all..

"do you want to take a bath with me? we can catch up whilst soaking in some bubbles and what not." [name] suggests, a smile on his face as he spoke. suguru thought his ears were deceiving him for a second. did he really hear what he thought he heard? or was his mind playing tricks on him due to his sleep deprivation?

suguru's face contorted and twisted into that of confusion. he looked at [name] with that exact expression on his face. "what? a bath? that's a bit odd, don't you think?" suguru sighed, shaking his head at [name]'s suggestion. although out loud he said the idea was odd, on the inside his heart was racing. he never would've thought [name] would be the type of person to suggest a bath, an intimate one at that where they'd be discussing their feelings together. it was all a shock, but suguru found it quite romantic.

[name] immediately realises how weird taking a bath with another guy sounds, especially since both him and suguru are teenagers, on the verge of adulthood. "oh! right.. right.. uhm.. my bad.." [name] chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his head and looking away from suguru. oh how stupid he was for thinking such a thing.

"..i'm not opposed to the idea, however." suguru clears his throat, also looking away from [name]'s direction. "i guess it would be nice to take a warm bath and catch up." suguru continues, his voice quiet and low as he's still flustered by the suggestion. maybe he was reading into it too much? but it was too late now, he already accepted the offer.

[name] perks up and he looks at suguru again, his previous smile creeping back up on his face. quickly, [name] takes suguru's arm and he starts dragging the poor boy to the baths. he already heard suguru say he 'wasn't opposed to the idea', so there's nothing stopping [name] now. he felt some sort of excitement rush over him, mixed with another feeling that he didn't know how to name. it was like he wanted to see suguru, topless, in the bath. but that was normal, right? it's normal to want to see another guy's body, right? it's totally not gay..

after a few long moments of [name] dragging suguru by the arm, the two boys finally reached the baths. [name] started to run the water, turning a mixture of the hot and cold taps before it was the optimum temperature. he then took one of the shower gels that was laying on the side of the bath, before squeezing a bit in the bath, waiting for bubbles to start forming. the bath wasn't big, but it wasn't too small. [name] hoped it would fit him and suguru, and possibly leave some space for the two of them. yet, he wouldn't mind being right besides suguru in the bath.

[name] looked at suguru with a smile. "well, the bath's running now. i guess it's time to get in." he hummed before turning around and taking his uniform off. as much as [name] wanted to watch suguru get changed, for some odd reason that didn't click in his mind yet, he gave suguru a little privacy and didn't watch. [name] got dressed pretty fast himself and he got into the water, waiting for suguru to get in too.

suguru took a little longer getting undressed. he was pretty nervous and flustered about the whole ordeal. suguru was about to be in a bath with someone he likes, close to this guy when they're both naked and the other guy doesn't see a problem with it! it didn't help that [name] was going to ask questions about what's wrong with suguru, it just made the whole moment feel like it was going to be more intimate than intended.

soon enough, [name] could hear suguru enter the water beside him. [name] turned off the taps and he looked to suguru with a smile. "the water's nice, don't you think?" he asked, trying to make some sort of small talk despite this awkwardly-romantic situation. this was meant to be a moment that couples shared. so why was it that two boys, who have not confronted their feelings about eachother yet, are sharing such a moment?

suguru just hums and nods along to [name]'s question, looking down at the water to try and avoid his gaze. it was all too much for his heart, there was only so much it could handle. "yeah.. the water's nice. thanks for.. asking me to come here with you? i don't know what else to say.." suguru muttered, definitely not knowing what else to say.

"i was worried about you, y'know? i mean, i still am, but i'm worried about you. i'm always worried about you, even when there's nothing to worry about." [name] explains, his brain going fuzzy after repeating the word 'worry' too many times. he's still gazing over at suguru with a small smile on his face. "i care about you a lot, even if it doesn't look like that. i just want you to know that." [name] admits, and it's not making suguru's heart feel any better. suguru feels as if his heart is going to leap out of his chest and drown in the bath.

suguru thinks for a moment, trying to recollect his thoughts and words before he can say anything in response to [name]. "hm.. thank you, [name]. i appreciate how much you care and worry, it means.. a lot." suguru whispers, making the shared bath more and more intimate by the second. "i've just been thinking a lot lately about everything that's happened, i forgot to stop and see that people around me care. everything with amanai, haibara.. it's all piled up. i feel like i have to carry this weight on my shoulders, like i'm alone.. i want to do something about it.." suguru admitted before pausing. he didn't want to tell the truth about what he thought of doing, it would just lead [name] to hate him.

then, suguru heard the water sloshing and splashing about until he felt something wrap around him. it was [name], of course. [name] pulled suguru into a hug, holding him as close as he could. "i'm sorry, suguru. i'm sorry that you feel that way.." [name] whispers to suguru. "you're not alone.. you have us. gojo, shoko.. and me." [name] sighed, resting against suguru's shoulder as he continued to hug the other boy. "we're always here so you can talk to us. i'm here for you, always." [name] whispers and it plays in suguru's mind over and over again. suguru just wanted to kiss [name] so badly. [name]'s words were so intimate, yet [name] didn't even know the effect he had on suguru.

suguru hums and he rests his chin on the top of [name]'s head, reciprocating the hug. "thank you again, [name]. your words reassure me. i needed that, a lot." suguru sighed, continuing to hold [name] in his arms as [name] held suguru in his own.

"i really want to kiss you.." suguru confessed in a whisper, his cheeks immediately going a light pink instead of pale as he spoke. [name]'s eyes opened wide and he backed away from the hug slightly, some water tipping out of the bath tub. "what? what did you say? you want to kiss me?" [name] was taken aback, but he should've seen it coming. he was the one who suggsted such a romantic and intimate thing such as a bath in the first place.

yet, [name] didn't back away. he wasn't afraid of his feelings anymore. he leaned in closer to suguru to the point where their noses were almost touching. "do it, then. kiss me." [name] whispered back, hoping suguru would kiss him.

...and kiss him he did.

suguru leaned in, just as [name] did, and he finally made their lips meet. it felt like heaven. both boys were just melting at eachother's touch. all the unspoken feelings coming to light as they stayed in the bath. it was perfect, better than anything the boys could've imagined.

once the two of them pulled away, suguru was smiling so much that his cheeks start to hurt. "that was.. great." he whispered before pulling [name] in for another kiss, which [name] gladly accepted.

the two boys kept kissing in the bath, smiling and laughing. all in all, they were just enjoying eachother's company for what felt like the first time in years. it was great.

"do you want to go and grab food with me someday?" geto asked, grinning slightly as he looked at [name]. "as in a date?" [name] tilted his head to which suguru nodded in response. "sure, sounds good to me." [name] hummed, holding suguru close in a hug again.

as the weeks, months and years went past, shoko and gojo never stopped teasing the two. suguru and [name] could never catch a break. but, it all happened because of the shared bath. the bath [name] and suguru were so glad they shared...

☆ author's note: i feel like writing a highschool au gojo..

☆ request ▪︎ masterlist

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cailinsblog · 14 days ago

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First Skates-Matthew tkachuk

Matthew tkachuk x reader

Masterlist

It was a crisp winter morning when Matthew and Y/N Tkachuk decided it was time for their son Nate to learn how to skate. The sky outside was a pale blue, and the snow had fallen thick the night before, covering the driveway and the world beyond in a soft, fluffy blanket. Inside their house, the air smelled faintly of pancakes and maple syrup as Y/N finished breakfast.

Nate, barely able to contain his excitement, was bouncing around in his pajamas, clutching his little skates like they were the most precious thing in the world. “Mommy! Daddy! When are we going to the rink? I wanna skate!”

Matthew, standing by the counter with a cup of coffee, smiled at the sight of his eager son. “We’re leaving soon, buddy. But first, we’ve gotta make sure you’re all ready,” he said, adjusting Nate’s little hockey helmet.

Nate, with his dark hair still messy from sleep, looked like a miniature version of Matthew. He wore a tiny black and red jersey with a Tkachuk jersey number on the back and hockey pants that were just a bit too big for him. His excitement was contagious, and Y/N found herself smiling, her heart swelling with love for her two boys.

“Do you think I can skate like Daddy?” Nate asked, his eyes wide with admiration.

Matthew crouched down, meeting his son’s gaze. “I think you’re going to be even better than me one day.”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head as she finished packing up the bag with extra gloves, water, and a towel. “I don’t know, Matty. He might need a few years to catch up to you.”

Matthew shrugged with a playful grin. “I’m just saying, he’s got my genes.”

---

At the rink, the cold air hit them as they walked through the doors, and Nate’s face lit up. The ice was pristine, with freshly painted lines and the hum of the Zamboni still lingering in the air. He took a few tentative steps onto the ice, but the surface was slippery and unfamiliar, and he froze in place.

Y/N kneeled beside him, her hands resting gently on his shoulders. “It’s okay, Nate. You’ve got this. Mommy and Daddy will help you.”

Nate bit his lip nervously, looking up at his parents with big eyes. “I’m scared, Mommy.”

Matthew knelt down next to them, putting his hand on Nate’s back. “Hey, it’s totally normal to be scared at first. But I promise, once you start skating, you’ll love it. And we’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

Nate nodded slowly, still unsure, but his little face set with determination. “Okay, Daddy. I’m gonna skate.”

“Atta boy,” Matthew said, ruffling his hair before standing up and taking Nate’s hands.

“Here we go, little buddy.” Y/N stood beside them, holding Nate’s other hand as they slowly moved toward the ice. Nate’s skates were sharp, but he was so small that his movements were more like tiny steps than the graceful glides he’d eventually master.

At first, he wobbled uncontrollably, his legs flailing as he tried to keep his balance. “Whoa!” Nate giggled, his feet sliding out from under him. He fell backward, landing softly on his padded bottom with a small grunt.

“Good job, Nate!” Y/N cheered. “You got back up so fast!”

Nate looked up at her, a smile breaking out on his face. “I fell! That was fun!”

Matthew laughed, his heart swelling at his son’s excitement. “That’s the spirit. Falling is part of learning. Let’s try again.” He gently helped Nate back to his feet and steadied him.

They spent the next hour on the ice, with Matthew and Y/N holding Nate’s hands as he took slow, wobbly steps. Every time Nate fell, he popped right back up, determined to keep going. His parents cheered him on with every step, praising his perseverance.

“Look, buddy! You’re doing it!” Matthew said as Nate, with a concentrated expression, managed to glide a few feet on his own before stumbling again.

“I did it! I did it!” Nate shouted, his face lighting up. “Did you see, Mommy? Did you see, Daddy?”

“I saw!” Y/N exclaimed. “You’re skating! You’re already better than me!”

Matthew laughed, shaking his head. “No way. No one can skate better than Mom. You should see her back in the day. She was a pro.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “That was before you, Matty.” She turned to Nate. “You’re doing great, honey. You’ll be skating like your daddy in no time.”

---

As the lesson continued, Nate’s confidence grew. With every step, he was more sure of himself. He stopped looking at his parents for support and started holding onto the edge of the rink, his little legs pushing him farther across the ice. His giggles echoed through the rink every time he made a successful push forward.

“I’m doing it! I’m skating like Daddy!” Nate shouted, beaming.

Matthew, standing next to Y/N, watched with pride as their son gained more and more confidence. “He’s a natural,” he said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Y/N smiled back, her heart full. “You think? I think he’s got a long way to go before he catches up to his old man.”

“Well, we’ll have to get him a stick soon, huh?” Matthew mused, eyes glinting with excitement.

Before Y/N could reply, Nate skated toward them, his face flushed with excitement. “Look, Mommy! Daddy! I’m a real skater now!”

Y/N’s heart melted. “You sure are, sweetheart,” she said, bending down to give him a hug.

Matthew joined them, lifting Nate up in the air and spinning him around. Nate squealed with laughter, his arms and legs flailing in delight. “You’re a little hockey player now!” Matthew said, his voice full of pride.

As they continued to skate, Matthew held Nate’s hands and guided him around the rink. They went around the track a few times, and soon Nate was gliding on his own, though he needed the occasional steadying hand.

“Look at you go, buddy,” Matthew said, his voice full of admiration. “Next time, we’ll work on stopping, alright?”

Nate’s eyes were bright with excitement. “I can stop! Watch!” He bent his knees and tried to slow down, but ended up wobbling and falling. He landed softly on his bottom again, giggling.

“See? You’re already better than me,” Y/N teased, ruffling his hair.

Nate’s laugh was infectious, and the family continued skating around the rink, soaking in the special moment.

As they left the ice hours later, Matthew hoisted Nate up onto his shoulders, and the little boy’s tired but happy face was the picture of contentment.

“Can we come back tomorrow?” Nate asked, his eyes wide with excitement.

Matthew grinned. “We can come back as many times as you want, buddy. We’re just getting started.”

Y/N smiled at the sight of her two boys, her heart swelling with love. “I think this is the start of something really special.”

“Definitely,” Matthew agreed, looking down at Nate with a soft, loving smile. “We’ve got a little hockey player on our hands.”

“Yeah!” Nate chirped, his voice filled with joy. “I’m gonna be like Daddy!”

And just like that, the Tkachuks had a new family tradition—skating together, laughing, falling, and learning. The rink would always be a place of fun and memories for their little boy, and Matthew and Y/N couldn’t wait to see what the future held for their young skater.

#hockey #nhl #nhl x reader #fanfic #matthew tkachuk x you #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk #florida panthers #nhl19 #nhl fanfiction #nhl fluff

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tenderleavesbob · 6 months ago

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Potions could reduce the chances of someone dying from blood loss, but they couldn't return the person's blood or strength afterwards. They also could only do so much for the symptoms of shock.

They were terrible after-effects, but everyone agreed, however grudgingly, that no one's injuries were worthy of a fairy. Warriors grit his teeth and ignored the lingering aches and shakiness from that damned wallmaster grabbing him. Four and Wolfie were curled up against him, with Four cold and weak from blood loss from an arrow and Wolfie fine but sharing his warmth. Shock left Warriors a little chilly, too.

Wind knelt down beside them and wrapped a blanket around the trio. Legend's, Warriors noted with amusement. He looked at Legend, and he smiled when he saw how Legend refused to look back. The tips of his ears were pink. Wind's own expression was determined, a healing bruise on his forehead and the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he adjusted the blanket around them. "Are you guys all right?"

Warriors smiled at him. He was so proud of Wind. The boy had helped him with Four earlier when Warriors's own wounds left him too shaky to handle the arrow. "We're good. Thank you, Wind." Four barely moved from his slumped position between Warriors and Wolfie, but he raised a trembling thumbs-up. It made Warriors reconsider. "Would you mind bringing me my bag? We might as well read while we're stuck here."

Four's thumb rose a little higher in approval. Warriors and Wind grinned at each other.

Across the camp, Legend was tucking a sleepy, protesting Hyrule into Sky's side. Sky happily pulled Hyrule into a hug in a way which disturbingly reminded Warriors of the wallmaster earlier. Sky was smiling but there was no mistaking the determination on his face. He was going to make sure that their exhausted healer rested whether he wanted to or not. Legend tucked another of his blankets around them, and Warriors felt his heart melt a little. Legend could pretend to be a hardass as much as he wanted, but Warriors saw through him.

Two against him, Legend and Sky and Hyrule made five, Wind made six...

Time was helping Wild with dinner. He had bruised his knee so he was cutting vegetables while sitting on the ground. Something about the movement of his hands and how casually he talked with Wild while they worked reminded Warriors of Time helping Malon in the kitchen at LonLon Ranch. Wild was glowing under Time's one-on-one attention. Warriors made a mental note to make sure they had more private time in the future.

Seven, eight.

Wind returned with Warriors's bag and promptly settled himself against Warriors's side. Four better adjusted himself against Warriors and rested his head on Warriors's shoulder. When Warriors rustled through his different books, Four pointed. "That one."

A book of Zora myths. Warriors pulled it out. He was very aware of several other heroes perking up, including Legend, who made a point of keeping his back to Warriors. How adorable.

When he started reading, Warriors did something he rarely did: he let his accent slip. It added some lyricism to the words, and he immediately felt Four relax against him. Time's ears twitched with the words even as he cut the remaining vegetables. Wolfie's tail wagged. Legend's ever-tense shoulders relaxed. Sky caught his eye and smiled at him, and Warriors knew if he didn't have his arms full with Hyrule, he would have his harp out.

There were more ways to heal people than potions and fairies. Letting the warmth of his brothers ease the lingering ache from his bruised bones, Warriors read on.

#lu warriors #tl scribbles #lu chain

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saioratral · 6 days ago

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so there's this professor... - 02 Chalked Hearts masterlist

if you ever had to give a mathematician a gift, a set of hagoromo chalk would be the perfect choice. known as the "rolls royce" of chalks, the "steinway" of writing tools, hagoromo is a luxury that many would go to great lengths to obtain. the same chalks that turn every mastermind into old folks fighting for the last fish. it's feather-smooth writing, even a mathematician transforms into an artist, the blackboard becoming their canvas.

that was exactly what you were planning on buying for your professor. you’d often notice how he relied on the university’s cheap chalk, constantly wiping his hands to rid them of chalk dust. you’d watch his expensive vest get coated by the fine powder, almost resembling a sugar doughnut.

you’d even gone as far as offering to clean the board after class—it just didn’t seem fair for your professor to teach for hours and then clean up the mess. determined to make a change, you resolved to buy him a set of hagoromo chalks. you spent months saving up every bit of your pocket money, but even the smallest set was beyond your budget.

“why are we in the market in this blazing heat?” your best friend alvin leroy groaned

“it will be quick! i just need to buy a nice cloth and some hagoromo chalks!”, you replied, pulling him closer to avoid losing him in the crowd.

“wait hold on- did i hear you say hagoromo chalks? why on earth would you need that?” alvin stopped dead in his tracks.

you looked back at your friend’s confused face. he proceeds to drag you both away from the bustling crowd, into a quieter corner of the market. you looked up to alvin who stood firm as a statue, clearly not planning to move until you confessed. with a sigh, you lowered your head, finding comfort in staring at your shoes.

“i want to buy it for.. professor….. william”, you muttered under your breath

“professor william?!” alvin nearly shouted before you clapped a hand over his mouth in panic. “Why him??”

“don’t shout it out loud! urgh why did i bring you?”, you retracted back your hand

“wait... don’t tell me you have a crush on professor william? no way, [name]! you? crushing on professor will- hey, wait up!”

you bolted away, your face flushed as you tried to hide your embarrassment. for the rest of the day, alvin declared himself the “captain” of his newfound ship, teasing you relentlessly until you finally parted ways. the next day, he was waiting for you with a... board?

“alvin what are you doing??”, you shouted as you ran over and pushed the board down.

“i’m having a voting poll on my ship name! i’m debating between will[name] and [name]liam!”, alvin grinned, folding the board back into his bag.

“i don’t like him that way”, you grumbled, throwing the nastiest side eye on him

“I hope so too”, alvin mutters to himself

despite this antics, alvin's smile didn’t hold the same meaning. there was a hint of something else behind it. deep in his heart, resentment began to spread as he let you drag him into the classroom.

even during your maths class, you weren’t left in peace. your professor walked in with his neatly pressed coat draped casually over his arm, which he placed on his chair. he looked around the empty hall, spotting you and alvin seated at the front.

“i never thought i’d see mr. leroy arrive on time," william joked, pulling down the extra blackboard.

“Yeah yeah- oh professor, [name] has something”, alvin nudged you with a not-so-subtle grin

“[last name]? how can i assist you? having trouble with yesterday’s theorem?” william asked, setting his board at last

he turned to face you both, his expression patient but with a hint of curiosity. he slowly walked closer to your seat, standing not too far from you. alvin gently pulled your chair back and gave you a small pat. you turned over to the boy and wished to slap off the wide smirk he showed

“professor moriarty... i’ve noticed how you often leave with a rather... dusty coat,” you began softly as you stood up

“i thought it was unfair for you to put in so much time to teach us- especially alvin”, you snickered remembering his test score

“hey-”

“i decided to buy some new chalks for you! it’s pretty popular amongst mathematicians”, you continued

taking a closer step, you could smell his woody perfume, tinged with a hint of citrus. never in a million years did you expect to stand this close. alvin’s voice died down, watching the subtle tension and nerve you held to yourself

you presented your professor a neatly wrapped cloth with his name engraved. william’s usually sharp and calculating eyes soften by the gesture. he took the gift from your hand to carefully feel the soft cloth.

“thank you [last name]. it was rather unexpected but i am flattered”, william’s voice portrayed his genuine gratitude

the rest of the day went on as normal. students rush into the class feeling dreadful but are left with joy after william promises not to give any homework. later that evening, william walks back to the moriarty estate feeling happier than before

“you look like you outwitted sherlock holmes” albert welcomed his brother with a sip from his glass

louis glanced up to see his brother indeed looked in a good mood. he watches william settle his satchel down on a nearby sofa before he sits himself. his lips created a small smile as he looked back at albert. he pulls out the small present he receives, letting it rest on the table in front

“one of my students gave me a set of chalks as a gift for always coming home like a baker” " william replied with his rare gentle humour

“that is rather…”

“considerate. you don’t often see students go out of their way like that” " albert finished louis’s hanging sentence

louis leaned forward, wanting to see more of the chalk. adding a small comment on the expensive gift, he questioned his brother about the owner. even albert expressed a wide-eyed smile, listening to william refusing to reveal your name

while on the other hand, alvin stared at the ceiling of his dorm, replaying the events of the day. a heavy heart is what he would describe his feelings. he tried brushing off his obvious feelings of jealousy. he needed to ensure his ‘ship’ wasn’t sailing too fast, even if he was the ‘captain’.

He prays that moriarty isn’t who he suspects to be

© saioratral 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator. all images used are from pinterest

taglist:

@fishii28 @ayaswrld @eliasorchard @onna-musha-mari @dija200

#william james moriarty #moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #mtp #william james moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #x reader #william x you #gn! reader #moriarty the patriot x you #๋࣭ alvinleroy⭑⚝#ᡣsaioratral⋆˙୧⍤⃝

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inchidentally · 1 year ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/gxtzeizm/730214598851067904?source=share THAT LAST GIF! :O

(link)

ok but the way oscar eats in these and the other rare moments we've seen him eat is so fucking sexy??? weirdly enough gremlin Lando eats fairly demure bc while he may shovel it in like a victorian street urchin begging for crusts of bread he does keeps his mouth closed and he's good about chewing. but Oscar is all teeth, curled up nose and throws back BIG bites to gnaw on, jaw working away. he's also super nonchalant about it and doesn't care if Lando or anyone else watches. he's going to eat his fill regardless.

that's also what I was thinking of when he did the wordless 'put your hands out and I'll give you a portion' rather than just handing the bag over to Lando after opening it. he's going to keep Lando in that dependent position because Lando actually likes it.

it made me think of this absolutely devastating ex-dando landoscar fic where Oscar casually asserts dominance over Daniel by eating from a chicken carcass with his bare hands and then kissing Lando possessively. I could literally see him hunched over ripping pieces of dark meat from the bone knowing that he can reel Lando in from Daniel with just a word. look at Lando's face in that gif above and that's the perfect imagery for fic Lando who's used to being at the mercy of an uncaring master because he wants so badly to be cared for - and now he's finally found someone who will wield the upper hand but always look out for Lando's welfare first. he's hanging on Oscar's every word and reaction and won't budge or speak until Oscar does because Oscar will always do what's right for Lando. sorrryyyy that fic is just - sometimes it dominates my mind.

but also the fact that Oscar's face always resets into that serious, determined expression with the unnerving steady gaze under those straight eyebrows idk. just all kinds of casual dominance and confidence. the fact that he'll absolutely have seen fans joke about how much he stares at Lando but he's never bothered to try and stop ??? like 'go ahead and watch me eat' 'go ahead and watch me stare at Lando' 'go ahead and try to publicly pressure me into signing that contract' 'go ahead and assume a rookie can't beat Max in a sprint race'. like he's saying 'this will be amusing for me'. 'first thing to say is… I would never back out of a race'. and how all of Lando's moods - even when he's in bad ones - are all easily accepted by Oscar because he's decided Lando is Always Worth His Time. but does he go out of his way to try and make new buddies with the rest of the grid? nope, mostly sticks to Logan or Zhou. Worth His Time.

I think it's why I love my vamposcar au so much bc sometimes it's like this old soul is having to pretend to be a nervous, awkward boy to not give the game away and sometimes he just forgets lol

#inchreplies #landoscar #D/s landoscar #kinda #fic rec #vamposcar #wow I crammed a lot into this reply lol #domscar #topscar #possessive kink #inchidentallyanessay #japanese snacks

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saekkas · 2 years ago

Text

𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆-𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍

summary: in which you go camping with the blue lock boys whilst having to deal with their shenanigans and your own feelings towards them.

includes: isagi, nagi, reo, yukimiya, rin, sae, kunigami, kaiser, karasu, bachira, aiku.

notes: i had to take a break halfway into writing the second scenario. my heart couldn't take it.

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐀𝐒 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐒𝐘 and uses it to his advantage! is the type to forget packing his tent and sleeping bag (intentional or not? remains to be seen) but makes up for it by being super sweet and a complete gentleman.

isagi, reo, yukimiya.

"hey, here let me help carry that!"

"no. it's okay, i can-"

your words fall into deaf ears as he snatches the twigs and branches away from your hand. you watch with an exasperated sigh as he holds them in his left, his right holding fishing equipment that includes rods, nets, and bait. he's swaying on his feet, trying his best not to slip on the muddy landscape as it's just rained, and you hide a smile from his very sweet antics.

"you're going to fall if you keep this up."

the air is breezy, wind picking up the small leaves on the ground. small droplets of rain fall from high treetops as the birds start chirping, and the forest seemingly comes alive. looking at the sky above, you marvel at its colors, watching as the sun starts to set, leaving hues of orange, purple, and blue as its parting gift for the world.

up ahead is your campsite, one you've built just hours ago. it isn't much, built by two amateurs intent on spending a night away from the hustle-and-bustle of the city life. the wind blows against your face as you take in your little haven for the night: a medium sized tent that can fit up to three people decorated with fairy lights, and two foldable chairs sit upfront.

"no worries, i can do it. we're close anyway."

your eyes move to take him in, hair damp for the natural shower with beads of sweat rolling down the side of his head. he looks like a mess, breathtakingly so.

he sends you a blinding grin followed by a thumbs up as he surveys the pathway of stones you'll both have to climb to reach your designated spot. "oh man," he groans, swiping a hand across his forehead, "why did we set camp so far up?"

"because we want to be in a place far away from the bears and foxes?" you chuckle, using the same exact words he said only hours ago before sending him a look. "you wouldn't be so tired if you'd just let me help. c'mon. let me carry the fish, at least."

"the fish are slimy and they squirm a lot." he raises an eyebrow at your request, shaking his head with a frown. "you might fall."

"then let me hold onto the equipment. they aren't slimy and they don't move."

"yeah but they're long. you might trip over them."

"let me hold the firewood then," you offer with a hopeful smile, "they're still, they aren't slimy, and they fit right into my hands."

"you might poke an eye out if you hold onto them."

he's been like this the whole day. it started in the morning when you were just about to leave for the trip. at first, it was the little things. he offered to help carry things like snacks, luggage, or the portable stove. it got worse when you arrived. he insisted on doing every single thing, from setting up the tent to unloading the things from the car, refusing any of your help. he even offered to carry you when it started raining, not wanting you to get wet.

"okay. that's enough." the wind picks up and it's silent for a few moments until another light shower hits. you cross your hands in front of your chest, huffing as a strand falls onto your face. "either you let me help or we stay here under the rain until tomorrow."

he says your name with a shy mutter, quickly glancing over at your expression to determine whether you're being serious. "i- just don't want you to get hurt?" the answer comes out as more of a question and he winces at his own nervousness.

his eyes flicker back to yours for a second before he sighs, walking over to hand you the fishing equipment. "there," he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. "we should go before you catch a cold."

"before we catch a cold," you correct, holding out a hand for him to hold.

"before we catch a cold," he mimics your words with a slight laugh, taking your hand before starting to climb the pathway. he mumbles be careful and watch your step, don't want you to slip several times as he keeps his eye on you the whole way back. when you finally reach the top, he tugs you into him to press a small kiss on your forehead.

"good job," he smiles shyly before he all but runs into the tent. "hurry up! before you catch a cold."

you dash under the tent and into his waiting arms with a mad grin.

"so what's with the princess treatment?" you ask with a quirked eyebrow as you pat yourself dry with a towel. "not that i mind but it's more than what i'm used to."

"ah. well. i just didn't want you hurting yourself," he says with a blush creeping up his neck as he runs a hand through his slightly wet hair. "and i- i still feel bad for this morning."

taking in his words, you fidget in your spot as butterflies start to flap in your belly, your heart warming from his intentions. "wait. this morning?" you ask with a tilt of your head, a curious expression your face. "what- oh! the sleeping bags, you mean?"

"yes." the blush intensifies further, crawling up his cheeks. "i still feel bad for forgetting my sleeping bag."

"well, i told you that i don't mind sharing mine." you shrug your shoulders, punching his shoulder playfully. "it isn't like we haven't slept in the same bed before."

"the last time we slept on the same bed was 10 years ago. in 3rd grade," he deadpans with a wince before turning around to face the opposite side of the tent.

you watch as he strips off his shirt, your eyes trailing down his bare back. he doesn't seem to notice, intent on changing into a fresh set of clothes. "well hey, who knows?" you add with a cheeky smile as you tease, "maybe you did it on purpose so that you can sleep with me again."

he groans, his blush threatening to envelop his whole face. "you're horrible. i told you, it was an accident. i left it by the door because i was in a rush to leave," he pouts.

"okay. i believe you." you giggle at him, watching with soft eyes as he zips up the tent, lighting the fairy lights surrounding the inside of your tent. "i'm just saying that i don't mind either way."

you listen to the sounds of nature, the soft chirping of crickets and the howls of the wind. you listen to the rustle of fabric as he prepares the sleeping bag. and you sigh, flustering as the thought of spending a night in the same sleeping bag as your childhood best friend and crush finally dawns on you.

"it's ready. do you want to slip in first?" he asks as he finally finishes dismantling the fabric, nodding at you with a shy smile. "it'll be a tight fit, though. are you sure-"

"yes." you cut him off as you shuffle into the sleeping bag, pinning him in place with your eyes. "i told you. i don't want you to freeze in your sleep, so please get into the bag with me and shut up."

"okay. okay," he chuckles as he raises his hands as a sign of surrender. "who knew you could be so bossy?"

you bite your lip and do your best to help him fit in by wrapping your hands around yourself. a minute later, he's in the sleeping bag with you, his arms and legs bent into awkward positions because of the tight fit.

"hold on," he mumbles as he starts to squirm around. "let me try something."

your heart is beating out of your chest at his proximity, your face warm as he finally settles into a position. he places his chin on your head, his hum reverberating through you. one of his hands lays itself under his head, the other on his hip. you close your eyes, trying to control your heart rate as he slots his feet with yours.

don't be nervous, he's just your childhood friend. your childhood best friend. he doesn't think of you as anything else. stop making this so weird.

"is this okay?"

you don't have the courage to see his face, blindly nodding against his chest. your heart lurches out of your chest, butterflies breaking out into a frenzy as he then wraps a hand around your waist timidly.

"you can tell me if it's not," he mumbles from on top your head, his thumb gently stroking the exposed skin of your hip. "i'll move if.. it's too much."

"no," you answer into his chest, slowly leaning in to press yourself into his warmth as the stiffness bleeds off your limbs. all traces of uncertainty and embarrassment fly out of your brain when he kisses the top of your head. "it's.. perfect. you're very warm."

"i am?" you feel his chest rumble underneath your hands. you feel his breathy laugh against your head. you feel his lips touch your forehead, your eyes closing at the intimacy of the moment. "we won't freeze in our sleep then."

"we won't."

he feels you nod against his chest, your hand gripping the material of his shirt. he stiffens for a moment when one of your hands move to his head, patting and playing with his hair.

he looks down at you, meeting your eyes.

"hi," he smiles shyly.

"hi," you giggle back, entranced by the soft hue reflecting off his face from the fairy lights. you watch as he slowly closes his eyes, leaning down before stopping just inches from your lips. giving you the option to sink or swim.

emboldened by his action, you lean in to reciprocate the kiss.

you both spend the night asleep in each other's arms, waking up the next morning with shy smiles, intertwined hands, and matching bedheads.

𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 but seems like the complete opposite. he looks bored out of his mind to even be participating, probably the type to have an emotionless expression the whole way through. grunts and sighs when asked to join any of the activities. don't be fooled though, he'd do anything just to spend a second alone with you.

RIN, sae, kunigami, nagi.

"thank you for the food!"

cheers ring out in the dining room of the villa, clinking glasses and plates heard throughout. meant as a friendly gathering, you watch with vivid amusement as the group of boys start to dig into their food.

"who knew they were such slobs." you look to your left as he scoffs the words, his eyes filled with poorly disguised annoyance. he ignores your curious eyes, instead choosing to focus on his own plate filled with baby back ribs, mashed potatoes, and grilled corn. "what?" he asks with a muted expression, boredom lacing his features. "do i have something on my face?"

"not at all," you laugh nervously with a shake of your head. internally, you're kicking yourself for staring too long. "was just curious about what you said."

he nods his head, picking up a fork to scoop the mashed potatoes into his mouth. there's a minutely silence, one you fill by eating your own share of food, still watching him from the corner of your eye. he's been nothing but quiet from the start, and you wonder if he's glad that the trip's coming to an end.

"do you have plans for the rest of the night?" you ask, nibbling at the cob. you hum in delight when the sweetness of the corn melts in your mouth.

he snorts at your happy expression, a shadow of a smile appearing on his face. "no," he answers bluntly, his bangs falling into his eyes as he shakes his head. "was planning to head in early."

"but they were planning on lighting the fireworks," you put down your corn, looking at him with a frown. "aren't you going to join? it's our last night here, after all."

he eyes the stray piece of corn in the corner of your lips, his hand itching by his side to swipe it off. "no." he angles his body away from you, stretching across the table to take two glasses of guava juice before he sits back down, placing one in front of you. "not a fan of explosions, you?"

"thank you." your chest warms at his gesture, smiling to show him your gratitude. you take the glass into your hand, lifting it to take a gulp. "me neither. i'm sitting out on this one."

you feel the pinpricks of his stare on the side of your face as you savor the flavor of the fruit. the ice cubes clink against your teeth, and you shiver at the coldness they spread through your body. gulping it down, you lick your lips at the sweetness of the fruit.

"wait," he calls your name in a low tone, and you look to him at the sound. your eyes widen when he leans in, his face right in front of yours, as he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip. your hand clenches into the seat below, trying to ground yourself as he slowly retreats, his eyes on your lips the entire time.

your eyes stray to his lips in return, only to flick up into his eyes. you see them fill with amusement and his lips spread into a small smirk. biting your bottom lip, you watch as he brings his thumb, the one that was just on your lips, into his mouth, tongue peeking out to lick the digit.

"you listening?" you break out of your stupor as he smiles slyly, his eyes glinting. his voice is low, and you feel a shiver run down as it caresses your heart, holding it in his palms with a tight grip, never intending to let go. "you went somewhere there. mind telling me what's on your mind?"

"sorry. i- i was just thinking about how good the food is," you stutter, your eyes locked onto his as the others fade away into a blur. "don't you agree?" you laugh nervously, pinching yourself when his eyes stray to your lips once more. "you were saying?"

"are you planning on sleeping after this?" he repeats himself, slowly turning back to his food with that godawful smirk still on his lips. "or were you thinking of doing something else?"

"i was going to stargaze. the sky should be clear since we're far away from the city." you place a hand on your thigh, pinching the skin, doing anything to stop your heart from beating so fast. you look away from him, trying to shake his gaze and previous words out of your head.

i think i'm going mad is the first thing you think to yourself as the night air blows in your face. it's chilly, yet comforting, guiding you deeper into its embrace. the sky is clear, a dark blue sea dotted with thousands of glimmering stars, twinkling as if saying hello. the ground of the roof you sit on is cold, sending goosebumps across the exposed skin of your legs.

"ah. should've brought a jacket." you sniff, the wind biting at your cheeks but there's a smile on your lips. one of content and happiness. "i'll miss this when we leave," you whisper into the night, tucking your feet into your chest and leaning your head on them.

"i'll miss this too." the sound of his voice startles you, and you look over your shoulder at his approaching frame. you take in the way he walks with his hands in his pockets, a warm, oversized jacket on his back. he nods his head in greeting before he sits himself next to you.

it's quiet for a few seconds and you can't bring yourself to look his way, his previous stunt and words still playing in your head like a broken radio. there's a sound of rustling before he places his sweater on your head. "hey!" you complain, still not looking at him as you take the jacket and cradle it into your chest. "i thought you were going to sleep."

"changed my mind." his reply is simple, short, and you think nothing of it until he adds in, "wanted to spend it with you."

squealing on the inside, you chuck the fabric at his face, which he evades with an amused glint in his eyes. he takes it from the floor, gently brushing off the dust before placing it around your shoulder. like a warm embrace.

you look at him, trying to ignore the heavy fabric on your shoulders that smells and feels exactly like he would.

he offers no explanation, his lips sealed shut as he takes in the view. the silence is calming, like a cup of hot chocolate after playing all day in the snow. it isn't long after that his hand comes to intertwine with yours, tugging you onto his lap like it's nothing. you feel him sigh into your neck, breathing in your scent. he places a soft kiss on your cheek, whispering three words that calls for your heart to do the same.

it feels like coming home.

𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒. has watched every summer rom com, which he forces you to watch along with him, and is desperate to at least recreate one scene from the classics. thinks that the best friends-to-lovers trope is the best one and is dying to make it happen in his own life.

kaiser, karasu, bachira, aiku.

there's nothing like feeling the air in your hair, the glide of water on your skin, and the smoothness of jagged rocks on the soles of your feet. a water gun is in your hands, and your chest heaves in exertion as you hide behind the bark of an old oak tree. you push your hair out of your face, annoyed by the looseness of your once tight bun, and listen to the pitter patter of feet against water.

"gotcha!" he practically yells as he throws multiple water filled balloons at you, most of them breaking against the tree. "you're horrible at this."

"i am not!" you giggle to match his laughs, running from your hiding spot with your gun pointed at his face. you take aim and smile in satisfaction when it hits straight on, laughing as his grumbles about water getting into his nose. "you're the one horrible at it. i win."

you walk towards him, face smug, with your gun pointed towards his chest. "ready to give up, criminal?"

"criminal, eh?" he asks with his hands raised in surrender, a twinkle in his eye that has you suspicious. you stand your ground, staring as he steps forward to press his chest to the muzzle of your gun. "guess that makes you the goody-two-shoes cop then?"

"it makes me the winner," you say with a raised eyebrow, eyes following the motion of his hand when it swoops down to caress your face. "what are you doing?"

the water from his hand drops onto your cheek and wets your hair as he swipes a fallen strand onto the back of your ear. a droplet slides onto your neck, running down the side of your body, and you shiver as he follows the motion with an unreadable expression on his face.

"sorry got distracted there for a sec." his grin appears just as fast as it disappeared, his eyes trailing down your body as he moves his hand to your hips, squeezing the fat around it. "you're pretty wet already, baby, and i haven't even done anything."

it takes you a minute to process his words. between the hand on your hip, drawing little hearts into your skin, and his pretty eyes, you're swept off to a place far away. at the same time, the wind sweeps down to envelop you both, caressing your bodies with a gentle kiss. if you close your eyes, you could imagine it was his.

"enjoying the view so much you can't speak, hm?" he looks at you with half-lidded eyes, and you watch them trail down from your eyes, down to your nose, and finally onto your lips. "can't blame you. mine's pretty good too." he leans in, eyes closing just a fraction, intent on making this the best moment of your life.

too bad something slimy makes its way past your foot, causing you to screech and jump towards him.

"hey! hey! woah!" the position you landed in isn't ideal. your legs are spread above his hips, making room for his body under yours. your faces are just inches apart, nose touching, and breath mingling with one another. "you okay?"

his hands are back on your hips, this time grounding as he wraps it around your waist. his eyes are filled with concern, his hair as wet as the rest of him is. he surveys your face, looking for signs of panic in your wide eyes. he sends you a sweet smile at last, one of his hands moving to rub gently against your back.

"it's okay. you're okay. you're with me." he lets you rest in the crook of his neck, stroking the back of your head. you can feel his heart beating through his chest, the organ racing against your palm. he tugs you back to meet his eyes, a hand cupping your cheek, as he looks you in the eyes. "that's it. that's better."

the stream is gentle under you. small fish swimming in pods start to gather near your bodies, curious of the two humans interrupting their peace. your body molds with his, your heart screaming to lean in and press a kiss.

"sorry," you mumble as you correct your stance, leaning back to straddle his thighs so he wouldn't be half submerged in water. his hand falls from your back, going back to its original position on your waist.

"it's fine." he brushes away with a chuckle, leaning back on his elbows as he looks at you. his heart is still beating irregularly fast, more so at the sight of you practically on his lap, the sun's halo against your head. you look like you're an angel. his angel.

your eyes go from his hand onto his face, your hand sliding up his chest to sweep away the water splashed onto his face. "you okay?" his silence bothers you, your expression turning into one of worry. "are you hurt?"

"not at all." he watches as you push off him, standing on your own feet. the warmth you exuded disappears with you, as if washed away by the stream, and he has to bite back a frown. this better not be what friend-zone feels like. "it feels nice to have you worry about me, though~"

he watches you roll your eyes with a tender expression. he eyes you, trying to sear this moment into his mind. his eyes linger before they catch onto the pine tree behind you, nervousness sparking as an idea comes to him.

"come with me." he doesn't give you time to react, hurriedly taking your wrist in his hand, and running towards the tree. he laughs when you shout in surprise. "just trust me!"

you're both panting when you reach it, the oak tree you hid behind just minutes ago. you turn your head, surprised at the distance you've covered from the start of the game. "okay," you say as you pant, hands on your knees. "tell me what you're up to or i'm dunking you in the water again."

"oh. so that was on purpose." a sweet grin appears on his face, his eyes misted over with a lovestruck haze. "and to think-" he stops when you pinch his cheek, laughing at the pout on your face. he misses the feeling of your hand when you turn away seconds later.

the tree stands by the waterline, tall and imposing, a testament to its age. you watch as he picks up a random rock, whistling as he starts to carve something onto the bark. you approach, gently leaning over his shoulder to see what he's made.

it's your initials. surrounded by a poorly drawn heart.

the sight has you giggling, shaking your head at his childish ways. "one of the scenes from your rom coms?" you ask, as you face him with your head still on his shoulder. you watch as the red gathers at his cheeks, his eyes fluttering at your close proximity. "ticked another off the list, then."

"not yet." he tries his best to remain nonchalant at your gaze, shrugging his one shoulder. "mind if i complete it now?"

"you don't have to as-"

his lips are pillowy and soft, the hand on your nape warm. there's a certain giddiness in his movements as he kisses you, his hand shaking where it's placed on your neck. you don't have the time to comment on it as he pulls away right after, his eyes alight with affection. you're sure you look at him the same way.

"i don't have to ask?" he asks as he strokes his thumb on your cheek, a grin on his lips. "got that."

this time, you chase his lips, shouting when he playfully runs away, "come back here, you thief!"

850 notes · View notes

sleekervae · 3 months ago

Text

The Bride [1.0]

Masterlist

Pairing: billy the kid x fem!reader

Summary: Billy leaves the Seven Rivers Gang

Warnings: cursing, slander, violence, shooting, death

Word Count: 4,641

Tag List: @poppyflower-22 @ponyslayer

Billy stood at the edge of the gathering, his face set in a determined expression as he addressed Jesse, Bob, John, and the rest of the gang. The murmurs and laughter of the group fell silent as he spoke up.

“Where you been, Billy?” Jesse's voice cut through the quiet, tinged with suspicion.

“Around,” Billy replied evenly.

“Yeah. And where's that?” Bob asked with a hint of irritation, his gaze narrowing.

Billy took a deep breath, knowing this was a conversation he had to have. “I came to tell you something. I’m quitting Major Murphy’s payroll.”

A tense silence settled over the group, the weight of Billy's words sinking in. “I’ve accepted a job with the Englishman, Tunstall. I’m leaving today.”

John's face darkened, his eyes blazing with anger. “Well, you are a little piece of shit, ain’t you? Huh. What’d I say? Hmm?"

Jesse, struck between shock and his own fury, stepped forward, "Billy, I’m your oldest friend. We’ve ridden together a long time. We had some good times, we had some bad times, but our friendship… has always remained. I can’t believe that you’re gonna quit on me now. It don’t make any sense.”

Billy met Jesse’s gaze steadily. “I’m sorry, Jesse. This wasn’t an easy decision to make. I’ve made up my mind.”

“Yeah. That you’re a traitor and our enemy,” Bob spat out.

"This is all that girl's fault, I reckon!" another one snapped, "He took one look at her and it was game over!"

“This has nothing to do anybody else. I just came here to tell you in person.” Billy reasoned, his eyes remained resolute. “Some of us have been friends. When this is all done, we can be friends again.”

Bob's laughter was bitter and cold. “Is that what you’re hoping? That we’re gonna be friends?” He scoffed, the sound echoing harshly as his hand come over his holster, “Do you really think we’re just gonna let you leave? After what you’ve just done?”

Jesse stepped in, trying to defuse the situation, “Boys, boys. We’ve all slept, starved, fought with The Kid. See, he’s trusted himself amongst us. He didn’t sneak out. He came right out and told us. Let him go his way.”

Jesse’s eyes remained fixed on Billy, the fury in them still burning bright. “Our time will come.”

Billy nodded, acknowledging the truth in Jesse’s words. “Yeah. It will.”

As Billy turned to leave, Jesse’s gaze lingered on him, a mixture of anger and reluctant respect in his eyes. Despite the bitterness of the moment, he couldn’t deny the courage it took for Billy to face them directly. The tension in the air was thick, but Jesse’s voice softened as he muttered under his breath, “Chickenshit.”

Eleanor darted around her small room, her hands trembling as she hastily stuffed her belongings into a worn leather trunk. Clothes were half-folded, crumpled, and tossed in with barely a glance. The once neatly arranged items now lay in chaotic disarray. She grabbed a small stack of letters from her desk and scribbled furiously, the scratching of her pen almost frantic.

Billy, I’m sorry. I can’t stay. I don’t know where I’m going, but I can’t stay here. I hope you find happiness, even if I can’t be part of it. All my love, Eleanor

She folded the note and slipped it into an envelope, her hands shaking.

Quickly, she moved to another piece of paper.

Dear Mr. Tunstall, I must resign from my position effective immediately. This decision comes with great difficulty, but circumstances have forced my hand. Sincerely, Johana Delile

With a sharp exhale, she folded the resignation letter and set it on the desk. Her heart pounded in her chest, each thud resonating with the urgency of her departure. She grabbed the last few items—a photograph, a book, a small box of keepsakes—and shoved them into her bag.

Just as she was about to snap the trunk shut, a loud knock echoed through her tiny room. Eleanor froze, her breath catching in her throat. The noise was sharp, unyielding, and it made her heart skip a beat. She stood still, her hand hovering over the latch of the trunk, the last vestiges of her resolve crumbling in the face of unexpected visitors.

Her mind raced, trying to process who could be knocking at her door now, and why. She glanced at the clock, realizing she was out of time. The knocking persisted, more insistent. Panic set in as she took a deep breath, her hand trembling as she slowly reached for her switch blade, the echo of each knock reverberating in her ears...

Billy's heart raced as he approached Tunstall's store. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the street, and his mind buzzed with a mix of relief and anticipation. His encounter with Jesse and the gang had been rough—bitterness and anger had hung heavy in the air, but now, with that chapter behind him, he was eager to share his news with Eleanor.

He swung open the door to the store. The interior was dim, lit by the warm glow of lamps that cast flickering shadows on the shelves of goods. Billy's eyes searched for Eleanor, but the store was empty except for Sam, who was behind the counter, arranging a stack of papers.

“Sam!” Billy called out, trying to keep his voice steady despite the lingering tension from earlier. “I’m here to see Johana. I’ve got some good news to share.”

Sam looked up from his work, his brow furrowing in concern. “Billy. I'm sorry but -- Johana's not here,”

Billy’s heart sank. “What do you mean, she's not here? She's off?”

"No, she just... didn't show up," Same replied, his expression troubled. “She usually keeps to her schedule pretty well. I'd go check on her, but I'm the only one on today. I can't leave. I thought she might have been delayed, but it’s been a few hours now. I’m worried,”

Billy’s mind raced. The excitement of sharing his news with Eleanor had shifted to concern. He stepped further into the store, glancing around as if expecting her to appear at any moment. “Can you think of anything? Maybe she said something about her taking off in passing?”

Sam shook his head. “Nothing. I haven’t heard a word. She didn’t mention anything unusual before she last left. The only thing that's happened is the army caravan riding into town,”

Billy’s heart pounded in his chest, "The US Army?"

"Is there another one?"

The mention of the army caravan immediately set off alarm bells in his mind. If the army was rolling in, then there was a good to fair chance Captain Harbinger was closing in. Maybe he's spotted her? Maybe he grabbed her?

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he looked at Sam. “When did they arrive?”

Sam’s face was indifferent as he replied, “Just last night night, I think. I saw them pull in and set up camp across the street,”

Billy’s thoughts raced. The coincidence of the caravan arriving just a day before she went missing was too significant to ignore. He couldn’t shake the feeling that her disappearance might be connected to the soldiers’ arrival.

“Did she say anything about it?” Billy asked urgently.

Sam shook his head. “I was already gone. Is she wrapped up in some kind of trouble?”

Billy’s worry deepened. He could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him, "You could say that," He had to find Eleanor, and he had to do it quickly. He gave Sam a nod, barely registering his thanks as he turned and headed back out the door.

As he rushed toward the boarding house, every step felt like a battle against the rising tide of panic and dread surging through him. His thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind of fear and urgency. Eleanor's safety was at stake, and the realization of how dire the situation had become fueled his desperation.

He pushed himself faster, weaving through the bustling streets, his breath coming in sharp, ragged bursts. The sight of the army caravan loomed like a dark omen in his mind, each passing moment heightening the sense of impending disaster. He scanned every shadow, every alleyway, praying for a glimpse of Eleanor or a sign that she had escaped whatever threat was closing in on her.

The stakes had soared to a terrifying height, and the weight of his mission bore down on him with crushing intensity. His heart pounded furiously against his ribs, the urgency of the moment leaving no room for second-guessing. With every beat, he felt the crushing fear of arriving too late, of failing her when she needed him most. He pushed onward, driven by the desperate hope that he wasn’t too late to save her from whatever danger loomed just out of sight.

Billy burst into the dimly lit lobby of the boarding house, his eyes scanning the room for the desk clerk. The clerk looked up from behind the counter, his expression shifting from curiosity to concern at the sight of Billy’s frantic demeanor.

“Excuse me,” Billy said, his voice edged with urgency. “I’m looking for Johana Delile. Have you seen her? It’s really important.”

The clerk’s face tightened. “You just missed her. She left with her bags not ten minutes ago,”

Billy’s heart dropped. “Left? Where did she go?”

The clerk shook his head, apologetically. “I don’t know. She didn’t say where she was headed, just asked me to bring up her bill so she could pay. I’m sorry.”

A rush of frustration and fear surged through Billy. “Damn it,” he muttered, turning on his heel. “Thank you.”

He dashed back out into the street, his mind racing with possibilities. Eleanor was gone, and with the army caravan in town, he knew he had to find her before it was too late. He felt the gravity of the situation settle over him, pushing him forward with a renewed sense of urgency.

Eleanor’s hands were shaking as she finished packing the last of her belongings onto her horse. The familiar, comforting routine of preparing for travel was now tainted by a sense of imminent danger. She glanced over her shoulder, her breath hitching when she heard the unmistakable voice she dreaded most.

“Hello, Eleanor,”

The blood-curdling tone made her spine go rigid. She spun around, her heart pounding in her chest. Captain Harbinger stood there, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over her. His eyes were cold, and the cruel scowl on his face sent a chill down her spine.

"Captain," she started casually, hoping to keep things pleasant, "Been a long time. You're moustache is longer,"

“It's been a long time, indeed. Over a year I’ve been looking for you,” Harbinger said, his voice dripping with menace. “You didn’t think you could just run away from me, did you? I paid for you. You’re mine.”

Eleanor’s mind raced, her thoughts scattered as she tried to stay calm. “Harbinger, please. You don’t have to do this. I... I have money. Lots of it. I can pay you back what you paid my father!”

Harbinger’s eyes narrowed, his expression darkening. “Pay me back? You think you can just pay me back after everything? I won’t have it. You’re coming back with me to Rosario, and you’ll be my wife whether you like it or not.”

She glanced at her packed belongings, then at the horse. Her escape route was close, but Harbinger’s presence made it impossible to act without getting caught. “I’m not going back with you,” she said, her voice steadying despite the fear clawing at her. “I have a life here. I—”

Harbinger’s eyes flared with anger, cutting her off. “A life? You had a life before I paid your dowry. And what a waste of a life it was—slaving away in a stuffy office, hucking mud and shit out of the stables, and cleaning up after your father’s drunken stupors. He was your burden. I freed you. And now, you’ll do as you’re told.”

The venom in his words struck Eleanor like a physical blow. Her fear began to twist into searing anger, her heart racing with fury. She could feel the rage bubbling up inside her, fueled by the insult to her father—the only family she had left.

“My father was no burden!” Eleanor spat, her voice shaking with both fear and anger. “He had his problems, sure. But he was twice the man you'll ever be!”

Harbinger’s smirk grew wider, his eyes gleaming with malice. “He was nothing but a stumbling drunk. I could've offered him a bottle of whiskey and he would've handed you over to me without question.”

Eleanor’s hands trembled as she reached into her pocket, pulling out her switchblade with a swift motion. The cold metal glinted in the sunlight as she brandished it, her anger transforming into a fierce resolve. “I ain't coming back with you. I'd rather be laid out to die and have the coyotes on me then ever even consider being your wife,”

Harbinger’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face as he took in the sight of the blade. “Eleanor, put that away. You don’t know what you’re—”

“I know exactly what I’m doing!” she interrupted, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her.

Harbinger’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face as he took in the sight of the blade. He smirked, pulling out his gun with a deliberate slowness. “A knife? Really? You bring a knife to a gunfight?”

Eleanor’s resolve hardened, but her fear was palpable, “John Riley murdered his wife last night, and if you think I'm coming back with you only to end up the same way, you got another thing coming to you!”

Harbinger’s smirk twisted into a cruel grin as he leveled the gun at her. “You think you’re tough with that little thing? Come on, then! Let's see how brave you are!” he held his arms out, "I'm wide open!"

Eleanor wanted nothing more then the gouge his eyes out, to draw her knife over his neck and slit his throat from ear to ear. She would've enjoyed it to, because without certainty, she would've been free. She could bury him somewhere, he'd disappear, become a legend, and she could move on in peace.

But alas, Eleanor couldn't move. Because at the same time, Eleanor had never killed anyone. That was a line so many people in her life as crossed, she herself couldn't bring herself to move.

Before she could react, Harbinger came at her, the gun striking her hand with a brutal impact. The switchblade flew from her grasp, clattering against the ground. Harbinger seized her wrist, his grip ironclad as he wrestled her down. Her horse, spooked, took off into the desert.

Panic exploded within Eleanor as she struggled against him, but his grip was like iron, unyielding and merciless. His face was close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath, the rancid stench of his breath mixing with her own desperation. “You’re coming with me, whether you like it or not,” he growled, his voice a cold, menacing promise.

The fight felt interminable, the searing sun casting harsh shadows on their tangled forms. Each second dragged on, each movement a battle against the suffocating despair. Harbinger’s grip tightened with relentless force, his strength sapping Eleanor’s resolve and hope. Her vision blurred with tears of frustration and fear, the fight slipping from her grasp as she felt her strength drain away under his brutal hold.

Just as Harbinger was about to secure her, a shout cut through the chaos. “Hey! Get your hands off her!”

Billy’s voice was a roar of anger and desperation. He charged in, tackling Harbinger with a force that sent both men sprawling to the ground. The gun skidded away as Billy grappled with him, his fury evident in every move.

Eleanor scrambled away, her breaths ragged as she looked up to see Billy wrestling Harbinger off her. She saw him pull the man from her, throwing punches with a ferocity born of deep concern.

Harbinger fought back, but Billy’s determination and strength were unmatched. With a final shove, Billy threw Harbinger to the ground, panting heavily as he stood over him.

“Stay the hell away from her,” Billy growled, his eyes locked on Harbinger with a fierce intensity.

Harbinger’s eyes flickered with sudden recognition as he looked up and saw Billy rushing towards them. The realization hit him like a jolt, and a cruel smile twisted on his lips. “Well, well, well,” he sneered, “If it isn’t the infamous Kid Antrim himself.”

He turned back to Eleanor, his eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction. “Looks like I’ve struck gold,” he said, his voice dripping with malice. “Not only do I find my runaway bride, but I also snag the outlaw they’ve been hunting.”

His gaze shifted back to Billy, a malicious glint in his eyes. “And here I thought today couldn’t get any better. You two are just making it too easy.” he staggered to his feet, spitting out blood, "Let me guess, she told you some sob story about running away from a loveless marriage and you fell for it hook, line, and sinker. She’s quite the little lady, isn’t she!" He laughed, a grating sound that sent shivers down Eleanor's spine.

Billy glared at Harbinger, his fists clenched by his side. "Leave her out of this, Harbinger. You know nothing about her or me," he growled, his voice a low rumble.

Harbinger just laughed again, the sound like nails on a chalkboard to Eleanor's ears. "Oh, but I know more than you think, Kid. And I'm going to enjoy killing you in front of her," he said, his eyes taking on a dark, maniacal gleam.

Billy barely had time to react before Harbinger's fist connected with his jaw, sending him staggering backward. The impact echoed through the dusty clearing.

Billy’s head spun, but he quickly regained his footing, his eyes blazing with fury. He lunged at Harbinger, landing a solid punch to his ribs. The two men clashed with a ferocity that was almost primal, exchanging blows with a violence that sent dust and debris flying into the air.

Harbinger grunted as he took a punch to the stomach but retaliated with a brutal swing of his fist that caught Billy square in the face. Billy stumbled, his vision blurring momentarily. Harbinger seized the opportunity, grabbing Billy by the collar and throwing him to the ground.

Eleanor’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched the brutal struggle between Billy and Harbinger. With her switchblade clutched tightly in her trembling hand, she knew it was too small to make a real impact in this deadly confrontation. Desperation fueled her actions as she launched herself at Harbinger, trying to wrestle him away from Billy.

Harbinger’s powerful shove sent her crashing to the ground. Eleanor hit the dirt hard, her skin scraping against the rough surface. Pain flared as she felt the sting of cuts and scrapes, and her lip split open, blood mingling with the dirt. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she struggled to push herself up, her mind racing for a way to help Billy despite the agony of her injuries.

Billy scrambled to his feet, wiping blood from his nose. His fury only heightened when he saw Eleanor in the dirt, and he charged back at Harbinger with a renewed determination, landing a series of quick, powerful punches. Harbinger, despite his size and strength, was momentarily overwhelmed by Billy’s relentless assault.

Eleanor’s mind raced, desperately searching for a solution. She scanned the surroundings for anything that might help. Her eyes fell on a nearby pile of wooden crates and a small barrel of oil. An idea sparked, and she rushed over to the barrels, struggling to lift them.

The fight between Billy and Harbinger continued, the two men locked in a deadly struggle. Billy’s blows were becoming more desperate, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Harbinger, though bruised and battered, was relentless, driven by a dark, twisted satisfaction.

Eleanor finally managed to tip over the barrel of oil, spilling its contents onto the ground. She grabbed a nearby crate, her heart pounding as she carried it over to the edge of the clearing. With a deep breath, she struck a match and tossed it onto the oil-soaked ground, creating a fiery barrier between herself and Harbinger.

The flames erupted with a fierce crackle, sending a wall of fire shooting up between Eleanor and Harbinger. Harbinger’s eyes widened in shock as the fire cut through the air, the heat pushing him back. He stumbled, momentarily distracted from his fight with Billy.

Billy seized the opportunity, launching himself at Harbinger with a final, desperate attack. The two men tumbled to the ground, the fire roaring around them as Eleanor watched with bated breath. She knew this was her chance to escape, to finally break free from the nightmare she’d been trapped in.

The blaze crackled fiercely, casting an ominous glow over the struggling figures. Harbinger’s face was a mask of pure rage as he tightened his grip around Billy’s throat, his fingers like iron bands cutting off Billy’s breath. Billy's struggles grew weaker, his face turning red as he fought to break free.

Just as Harbinger’s grip threatened to crush the life out of Billy, a chilling click echoed through the chaos. Harbinger’s eyes shot open wide, his expression shifting from fury to confusion. He released Billy momentarily, glancing around to locate the source of the sound.

The firelight flickered across Eleanor’s face, her eyes fierce and resolute. In her trembling hand, she held Harbinger’s revolver, the barrel pointed directly at him. Her heart pounded in her chest, the weight of the gun heavy but grounding.

"Get away from him," Eleanor’s voice rang out, steady despite the tremor in her hands, "Or I'll kill you."

Harbinger’s gaze snapped back to Eleanor, his face contorting into a mask of sheer anger. He lunged towards her, but the gun was now firmly in her grasp. The realization of his missing weapon sent a wave of panic through him, even as he tried to mask it with bravado.

“You don't have the nerve!” Harbinger growled, but the sound was cut off by the sharp crack of the revolver as Eleanor fired a warning shot into the air. The bullet whizzed past his ear, a clear and resounding declaration of her resolve.

The shot caused Harbinger to freeze, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and disbelief. He took a cautious step back, his hands raised in a gesture of reluctant surrender.

Eleanor stood her ground, her voice unwavering despite the danger. “I don’t care what you do with me, but you don’t hurt him. He’s an outlaw, sure. But he’s more of a man than you’ll ever be.”

Harbinger’s rage flared at her words. “I’m going to enjoy making an example out of both of you. You think your little threats scare me?” He moved closer, his posture menacing as he reached for the revolver Eleanor was holding.

Billy, still gasping for breath, struggled to his feet, his eyes locked on Eleanor with a look of desperation. “Eleanor, wait…”

Eleanor’s heart raced as she held the gun steady, her fingers wrapped tightly around the handle. “Stay back!” she hollered, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “The town's people are gonna show up any minute and see what you've done!”

Harbinger’s laugh was low and dangerous. “You think I'm worried about these simpletons? You started the fire, after all. Who do you think they're gonna' believe? A decorated army captain, or a hysterical woman with a gun?”

Eleanor’s resolve hardened. With a steady hand, she took a deep breath and fired the revolver. The shot rang out, echoing through the night, and Harbinger’s expression transformed from one of arrogance to shock as the bullet struck him squarely. He staggered backward, clutching at his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

He fell to the ground, his body convulsing in a final, desperate spasm. Eleanor kept the gun trained on him, her hand shaking but her aim steady. Harbinger’s eyes, once full of menace, were now clouded with the realization of his own mortality.

Billy staggered to his feet, equally shocked at what he'd just witnessed. Eleanor killed a man. Five-foot-nothing, big-mouthed Eleanor Aubert, killed a man right in front of him.

As Harbinger lay on the ground, his strength waning, he glared at Eleanor with a mix of hatred and disbelief. “You… you’ll never be safe,” he gasped, his voice barely a whisper. “I’ll make sure… you pay for this…”

Eleanor’s gaze remained firm, her heart pounding in her chest. “You’re done,” she said quietly, her voice a mixture of relief and sorrow. “Consider our wedding officially off,”

Harbinger’s eyes closed, his body going still. The night was silent once more, the echoes of the confrontation fading into the darkness. Eleanor lowered the revolver, her hands trembling as she stared at the lifeless form of the man who had brought so much pain and fear into her life.

Billy moved to her side, his expression one of concern and gratitude. “Eleanor, are you okay?” he asked, his voice filled with worry.

Eleanor nodded, her gaze still fixed on Harbinger, “We need to get rid of him,” was all she replied.

Billy's eyes followed her gaze to Harbinger's lifeless body, a grim understanding settling over him. “Alright,” he said, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation. “Let’s take care of this.”

Together, they dragged Harbinger’s body away from the scene, their movements deliberate and somber. The darkened landscape stretched before them, a stark reminder of the harsh world they inhabited. The road to Lincoln was long, but they were determined to see this through.

As they made their way to a secluded spot far outside of town, the silence between them was heavy with unspoken thoughts and shared relief. The task of burying Harbinger was both a necessity and a final act of defiance against the man who had tried to control their lives.

When they reached a desolate area, far from prying eyes, they began to dig a grave. The earth was dry and resistant, but their determination made quick work of it. Billy’s movements were methodical, while Eleanor’s hands shook slightly with the lingering tension of their confrontation.

Finally, they laid Harbinger’s body to rest, covering it with dirt and stones to ensure that it would remain hidden from any who might seek to find it. The act was a quiet, solemn ceremony, a way to put an end to the nightmare that had plagued them.

As they finished, Billy placed a hand on Eleanor’s shoulder, offering a supportive squeeze. “It’s over,” he said softly. “You're free now.”

Eleanor took a deep breath, her gaze lingering on the freshly disturbed earth. “Yes,” she replied, her voice steady but tinged with exhaustion. “It’s all over.”

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid smut #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid x you #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x female!reader #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney smut #william h bonney x you #william bonney #william bonney x reader #william bonney smut #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #original story #original female character #imagine blog

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kaashallmighty · 2 years ago

Text

You Think You’re Hard.

César Díaz x Male Reader

Set during/after the Chapter 4 halloween party

I guess you don’t have to have watched the show to read but it’d make a lot more sense cuz im dead not starting from the beginning🤞🏿

there was posed to be more to this but yeah y'all don’t know that🧍🏿. . . . first actual post so wassup? I take criticism so don’t think we gon tussle or sum

Egg driping from his shoulder, Cesar rapidly typed on his keyboard. He could hear his friends bickering in the background.

“Jamal, get a Lyft?” Ruby asked said male. Jamal looks up from the fake sling bag hanging loosely from his forearm.

“My dad said Lyft was only for emergencies…” he urgently replies.

“Seriously!? What exactly constitutes as an emergency?” Cesar pockets his phone after sending his last message and lifts his head to look at everyone in the group.

“Don’t get a Lyft. It’s handled.” Cesar turned on his heels, heading back to the Halloween party they left minutes prior. With newfound determination, he walks straight up to the phony santos white boy. Noticing people looking behind him the boy turns around to be faced with Cesar. He chuckles and holds his arms out to his sides.

“You want some more?” He questions Cesar with a grin displayed on his face. Cesar rocked on his feet giving the boy a glare from head to toe.

“Oooh, you think you’re hard. Okay.” Leaning his shoulders back and eyebrows up, he taunted the latino in front of him, still harboring a cocky attitude.

“Nah, I’m not.” Cesar states while shaking his head, never breaking eye contact with the offending party.

“But he is.” The engine of a black 1964 Chevy Impala Convertible can be heard pulling up behind Cesar. He finally he averts his eyes to look back at the car rolled up behind him. Stepping out from the car and slamming the door, you’re hardening glare immediately met with the paled face of the white boy. Cesar’s lips twitch upwards watching as you hastily step around the car, towards the imposter.

Coming face to face with the male, you watch as his eyes flicker from the cross tattoo peeking from under your tank top , to the teardrop sat just below your eye. The surrounding area is silent apart from the strained breathing of the boy. Noticing the eyeliner drawn tattoo you curtly scoff with an amused expression before returning to the mug. Lifting your thumb to your mouth, you wet it and harshly swipe away the marking on his cheek. Using your index and middle finger you rub at your own, once again looking directly into the male’s eyes.

“You playin dress-up but this shit’s real.” You step up closer, brows furrowed, watching the facade completely slip away.

“Please. What do you want?” The trembling form in front of you pleaded. You quickly glance back at Cesar before smirking down at the scared male.

“Got sum to drink?”

#on my block #omb #cesar diaz #on my block x reader #on my block x male reader #x male!reader #x male reader #male reader #reader insert #Cesar diaz x male reader #male reader insert #Onmyblock #poc!reader #black reader #black male reader #poc male reader #black!reader #kaashallmighty

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hannahssimblr · 10 months ago

Text

“Is someone sitting here?”

“What?”

“I said, is someone sitting here?”

Evan plucks out one of his earbuds and gestures broadly to the empty seat at his table, “No, take it.”

“Thanks,” I sit down and begin unpacking my school bag. I look up a moment later to meet his confused expression.

“Are you not going to take the seat?” He says, “I mean, take it, as in, go bring it to another table?”

“Nah, I want to sit here.”

“...With us?” He exchanges a look with Michelle, who shrugs. They let a long silence stretch on, but I won’t be intimidated. I’m here now. We will be sitting together for this class and there’s nothing they can do about it.

He clears his throat, “Well… usually you sit up next to Jill. She’ll probably think it’s a bit weird if you just switch seats.”

“I don’t care about that. Do you care about that?”

He hesitates, “Well, no.”

I shrug, “Okay then,” I rummage through my pencil case and yank out a fresh 4B pencil, “Do you need this? Yours is looking a bit gnawed on.”

He scowls and slides his tooth marked pencil under his sketchbook where I can’t see it and I chuckle, “I was joking, I only have one 4B pencil, actually, you can’t have it.” And I swear that I can hear Jen’s voice in my head. That’s not the way to make friends with someone, she points out. Try again.

I quickly look for something else to talk about and spot a scrawl of lyrics on the inside of his sketchbook cover. 'Smile like you mean it' next to a scratchy drawing of an upside down grin, “Hey, you like The Killers?”

“Uh, yeah I guess.”

“I love The Killers, actually, I just got Day and Age for Christmas and-”

“Jude, shush,” Michelle hisses, “the teacher is talking.”

I glance quickly over my shoulder at Miss O’Reilly who is as usual saying something grandiose about art using broad, sweeping hand gestures. I listen for three seconds before I determine that it is not important.

“Michelle Tengu,” I turn back to her with a smirk, “are you a teacher’s pet?”

“No, I’m just trying to listen.”

“To what? Draw a cross in the middle of an oval and put the nose there and the eyes there and bla bla bla, which, by the way isn’t even accurate. You’re going to have to unlearn it all when you go to art college.”

“Who said I’m going to art college?”

“You changed your mind?”

“Okay shut up, she’s coming over.”

Miss O’Reilly rests a hand on my arm, and I’m certain I’m about to get into trouble again, but she just says “...and Jude and Michelle, you can be the next pair.”

“For what?” I mouth to Michelle, and she shakes her head and mouths back, “I don’t know, you were talking over her, eejit.”

“And that leaves Evan, who can go up to the top and work with Jill.”

“Aw what?” He protests, “this is my seat, Miss.”

“Well today you are sitting with Jill.”

“That’s Jude’s seat,” He stabs an aggressive finger in my direction, “He moved today for no reason.”

“Miss,” I pipe up, “I’ll go with Evan, it’s fine.”

“No, I want boy-girl-boy-girl. Evan, just go and sit with Jill please.”

I turn around and mesh gazes with Jill who is glaring at me with confusion and disgust. “Evan?” She mouths, “Why are you down there? I don’t want to draw Evan. Ew!”

I ignore her and turn back to Michelle as Evan packs up his things and makes a big show of stalking away, “So I’m drawing you and you’re drawing me, yeah?”

A weary sigh, “Yeah, I suppose.”

“Nice to have a challenge.”

“What do you mean?”

“As in, really ridiculously good looking people are the hardest to draw.”

“For God’s sake.”

I smirk, “C’mon, it’s funny.”

“Excuse me, I can’t draw your mouth when it’s moving, so keep it shut.”

I snicker into my sketchbook and begin marking out the shape of her face, “You’re funny, Michelle. Did you know that?”

The corner of her mouth ticks up, “Yeah, and you’re a pain in the arse.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2009 #Jude REFUSES to be in a clique #love him for this tbh #tw: bullying

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llondonfog · 1 year ago

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twst (horror) tober — day 6 (time)

➤ Day 6: Time | “How long has it been?”

Silver once told him that ever since stepping into the role of caring for Lilia, the concept of time turned meaningless to him.

Silver told him that he can only categorize the days now on a continuum of good and bad.

There were days when his father would wake up with the hint of recognition in his eyes and an agreeable slant to his lips, and Silver needn't coax him out of bed to amuse him with the trinkets and gifts bestowed upon him by well-meaning classmates and a grieving liege. There were even better days when a glimmer of memory not yet lost would surface in the dark and mired deadlands of his father's deteriorating mind, when he'd pat the cushion beside him on the couch and regal Silver with a tale he'd heard at least several times before— each time, he listens just as patiently as if it were the first.

And then there were bad days when the fae that awaited him on the other side of the bedroom door screeched and howled in a long-lost tongue, days when Silver was forced to use the iron bolts that Malleus-sama had pleaded with him to install on the wooden frame if he wouldn't listen to reason and use manacles fixed to the bed instead ("My father isn't a monster, Malleus-sama, I won't humiliate him and strip his dignity away!") to stop those wild, ragged claws from tearing through the wood like paper to scratch out his eyes. Days when it is hard to separate the loving, smiling father from the feral creature caught in a losing battle as it succumbs to a fate inevitable to its kind.

Sebek listens to his friend, remains silent for once— it is unlike Silver to share his burdens, to even talk about the difficulties of caring for a fae so advanced in the decay as Lilia lest he fears that anyone find him complaining. They had all tried to talk him out of it when they had learned that Silver had already rescinded his studies at Night Raven College with the intent to care for his father to the bitter end. Malleus had nearly been beside himself, for safety could not be guaranteed, even for a human as strong and determined as Silver— "He'll overwhelm you," Sebek had watched his prince all but beg the boy to reconsider. "You know naught of what you are consigning yourself to, you have never seen our kind at our most frightful display. He would not wish this upon you, he would want his memory to remain pristine in your mind!"

But Silver had remained steadfast, loyal and devoted to his father beyond all rational persuasion. "I will not allow his last moments to be in suffering and all alone, Malleus-sama. He has sacrificed his life for the country, for you, and for me— I find it hardly equal what meager weeks I can give to him so that he may go in peace."

And so they had left to that cottage in the forest, the only home that both of them had ever known. Sebek had visited only once, the nature of being Malleus-sama's sole guard until Silver's return dictating that he shoulder a more hefty responsibility. They had both appeared rather worn and weary, bags deeper under Silver's eyes than he had ever known them to exist before, but together at least with wan smiles on their faces, as Silver had so desperately wished for them to be.

All the same, Sebek's gaze had keenly noted the presence of thin, crimson lines along Silver's forearms and neck— he found himself too much of a coward to glance at Lilia's hands.

Today, however, he's visiting for a much different reason than merely personal concern. Malleus-sama had bid him to venture out into those isolated, lonely woods, a frown deep and haggard on his perfect face; Sebek knows that if he were to look in a mirror, the same expression would be reflected back at him. For two weeks now, not a single letter delivered to the cottage had returned with correspondence, courtesy of Silver's little feathered friends usually so delighted to concede to his requests. Normally, a week's worth of silence would have jolted the both of them into worry, but with the whirlwind of a recent goodwill trip to the neighboring human countries, Sebek had merely assumed there would be a small pile of daily updates from Silver for them to look forward to reading upon their return. Imagine then, the foreboding that had settled in like an ominous pressure at the lack of any such notes.

That pressure only mounts and builds with a wicked weight upon his shoulders as he approaches the darkened cottage, silent among the stilled trees. A pressure that twists in his stomach like a corkscrew, and grips his throat in a vice, thinning the air he breathes as he stares with dread at the front door swinging off its hinges, and a faint, nauseating smell choking the scent of violets from beneath his feet.

Today, it seems, is not simply a good or bad day— it is an awful one.

#lettie writes #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland silver #twst silver #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek #malleus draconia #twst malleus #diasomnia #the concept of fae going feral in their twilight years being the reason why lilia wishes to age alone #to spare his son the monstrous sight; to protect him from harm should lilia lash out on base instinct alone #idk my writing has been a hot mess as of late

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yujibakugo · 8 months ago

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PART OF YOUR WORLD. - CHAPTER TWO

summary: seira is a mermaid and every since she could, she always dreamed of being on the surface. her father told her all about humans and pirates how they’re horrible and better off under until she gets too close to a pirate ship and is lead by determination to be part of their world.

warnings: none

note: some filler before they meet officially. you think i’m taking her voice like the little mermaid?

chapter one

seira followed the ship for a bit. she couldn’t catch up fast enough since she had to make sure he stayed over the water so she trailed to not lose the ship. she saw the boat hit the end of the island harshly stopping it. she moved towards the end of the island where a beach was and pulled him to the sand laying him down. that’s when she really looked at him.

she moved her head to his chest to see if he was breathing. she could feel the water in places it’s not disposed to be with her water powers and moved her hand to his chest. she moved her hand to pull the water out his lungs and he coughed a breath now being able to breathe clearly. she got ready to move back but she saw he didn’t get up up. he was still unconscious. she moved closer and moved the hair out his face. she studied everything about him, the closest she ever got to a human let alone a boy.

she felt too many things. she thought he was beautiful, but she was also envious. he lived above everyday. and angry. the fact that she’ll never be able to know him, know who he was.

she felt her tune move and had to sing her siren song.

“what would i give to live where you are?” she moved her hand down his face singing softly.

“what would i pay to stay here beside you?”

“what would i do to see you smiling at me?” she let out a small smile as his hand moved to his chest, “where would we walk? where would we run? if we could stay all day in the sun, just you and me, and i could be part of your world.”

before she could say goodbye to the man who can’t do the same she heard something coming from the ship. she looked at him one more time before going back to sea.

she saw the people from the ship surround him as they spotted him expressing joy for their friend.

she turned and watched them carry him to their ship with him still unconscious as she sat on a rock to look at them better.

her realizing she had to back she couldn’t help but be excited for her adventure.

“i don't know when, i don't know how. but i know something's starting right now. watch and you'll see, someday i’ll be, part of your world.” she moved up the rock as the wave hit it. she knew now, she couldn’t just live her life the way her dad saw. her life is up here, and she knew just how to get it.

seira swam back to her cave to on a mission. she’s been looking for this recently but she needed it now. when she got back to her cave she saw poki waiting for her. when she saw, her eyes widened and she swam up to her, “oh my! you went to the surface. this is bad! you broke the law!”

seira ignored her and moved to look for something. poki relizing she wasn’t thing heard slowly trailed off, “and what are you doing?”

seira didn’t stop her movements, “when i saw that island the pirates stopped at, it looked familiar.” she got a paper and carefully unraveled it. she figured out paper doesn’t do well in water so she’s carful with all her scrolls. she sat it on a rock surface and her and poki looked at the paper. it was a map, and seira was correct, it was the same island she swam the boy to.

“okay, what so special about the island?” poki asked.

seira grabbed the scroll and her bag and went to move out the cage, “it’s going to give me legs.”

she saw out and poki nodded for second then her eyes widened in realization, “wait- legs?”

she followed her and seira swam quickly back to the island.

“yes, legs.” seira explained, “the island was created by mermaids, back when they used to go to the surface. the map says i have to look for a fruit or a rock. the fruit will give me legs permanently and the rock, if i listen to the conditions, it’ll be temporary. hopefully i find the fruit.”

poki stopped, “wait, your going to the surface world permanently? what about your dad, sisters, what about-what about me?” poki spoke softly.

seira stopped swimming at her voice. she sighed and looked at her, “i’ll miss all of you, i will. but i don’t think i belong here. and if it’s not at all what i thought…i’m willing to take the risk. this is for me.”

seira continued to swim and poki thought about it. of course she wants her friend to happy, and this is all she ever talked about. she sighed and continued following her.

the five mates walked thought the strange island. there was nobody on it but it looked amazing. everything was green, fresh fruits and veggies grew throughout the plants and trees, there was animals around. there was fresh water, basically everything somebody would ever need was on the island but it looked like nobody was on it.

usopp spoke looking around as they all walked, “this island is amazing! why isn’t it on your map though nami?”

nami sighed and spoke, “i don’t know. i never heard of it before. i wish we could find somebody but it looks to be no signs of life’s currently living here. it’s weird considering it looks like the best option lace to live. food and water. you think a pirate would have already discovered this place.” she spoke looking around in suspicion.

“speaking of food, when are we eating?” luffy whined to sanji.

“whenever we get back.”

“zoro got lost at sea, maybe we should rest for another day!”

zoro not paying attention to the convo looked around. he could’ve sworn there was a girl. he heard her voice, and he could never admit but he can’t get it out of his head. could he have imagined it, all the salt water could’ve gotten to him. if there’s nobody living on this island there couldn’t have been a girl.

“zoro!” the crew yelled to get his attention.

he turned to them and usopp asked, “you’ve been out of it since we found you on the beach? what happened?”

zoro sighed and decided to tell them, “somebody saved me.”

nami sighed, “yeah we figured that. but there’s nobody on the island.”

zoro scoffed, “i know that, which is why i’m confused. you guys didn’t see anybody before you got me?”

sanji sighed inhaling his joint, “nope. just you.”

zoro sighed, “whatever, let’s keep moving. you get what you need for the sail then we’ll be out of here!”

seira and poki swam too the island. she didn’t go in surface because the map leads under water, “okay it says there should be an entrance somewhere.”

“okay but an entrance where. you don’t have legs so-" poki got cut off by seira.

“yeah, i know.” she snapped as she continued swimming.

they dodged a few rocks before she saw light on a path. she moved towards there and saw a cave it looks like. she moved under the surface and looked around. she saw poki peak out too.

it was a cave.

and the place she was a a pool right in the middle. it wasn’t empty, either. there was a few chest around the area. and there were two different entrances. the map led her here, she assumed the chest would help with that.

seira looked at everything, “everything is old. this stuff hasn’t been used in years, nobody lives here.”

“how would you know that?” poki asked wondering. all human things looked the same to her.

“i seen pictures of items, used items don’t have dust on them.” seira explained, she could be a little observant, “i need that chest.” she pointed to the one in the middle, “it has the same crest on the map.”

“are you going to crawl over there!” poki asked sarcastically.

seira rolled her eyes then got out her hands and took a breath, “i got this.”

she moved her hand in water motions like it was was explained on something she read back home. she focused on getting water up. slowly but surely a line of water rised from the pool between the two. once she thought it was big enough she focused on moving it towards the chest.

she stuck the end to the chest then pulled it back with the chest moving with it. when it was at the end of the pool she sighed happily and swam towards it.

“how did you do that? you’ve been practicing the water touch?” poki questioned amazed.

“not to much, it feels stronger on the surface.” she shrugged.

she looked at the chest and seen no lock, “there’s no lock?”

“hurry and open it so we can go back down!” poki said scared.

she rolled her eyes funnily and opened it. there were a couple things to skip over but she saw a few blue scroll with silver lining so she assumed they’re important and picked one up.

she opened it to find her home writing from when they used to communicate with the surface, “it’s our writing. finally! something i can read!” she expressed her joy.

they both turned to sounds coming from down one of the entrances.

poki looked to seira, “i thought nobody been here since forever?”

“i think the pirates are snooping.” she turned and grabbed every single blue scroll in the chest. they’re from her home so she knows they’ll survive underwater.

poki pressured, “hurry! let’s go.”

she closed the chest and before the pirates could come in she lifted water quickly and push it full force to move the chest back. as it pushed and she and poki moved underwater as the pirates walked in the cave.

poki let out a sigh, “that was close!”

seira moved towards the edge where they wouldn’t see her and before she turned she got a glimpse of green hair in her reflection. she stared at him not expecting to see him again so soon.

she looked and paused before she turned her tail and swam away, the sooner she gets this done the better.

#monkey d luffy #zoro x oc #roronoa zoro #one piece x reader #one piece #vinsmoke sanji #nami #halle bailey #the little mermaid #pirates #east blue

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sweetheartsaku · 1 year ago

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—huening kai ; player 2 !

a/n : [fem!reader] happy [belated] birthday to my lovie kai 🥹 and also happy hueningkai month to the ningdungies !!!!! i love kai sm hes so precious.......... i was literally unconsciously smiling giggling and kicking my feet writing this

diasca !

the sound of a familiar pokemon game whirrs and chirps soundly escape your boyfriend's room.

'i can't wait to see his face when he sees this..' whispering to yourself as you gently opened the door.

'HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!'

swiftly perking his head up, kai immediately throws off the blankets and jumps into your open embrace sharing a toothy smile.

'BABYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!'

giggling with arms still around his waist, you look up to his chocolate; slightly cinnamon eyes and press your lips against his mole, nearest to his plush rosy lips. picking you up bridal style, he places you on the right side of the bed. surprised by the sudden gesture, your face laces a rosy, subtle pink. you smile at the thought and sit crosslegged watching the idle clefairy on the yellow nintendo lite screen. kai picks up the blanket from the floor and throws it over himself and you, resting his back on the bedhead.

pulling out your pink lite from your bag, you both play for a couple hours before you gradually become agitated by the lack of pokemon caught. staring at the screen with mouth agape, and eyes probably twitching morphing a determined expression, you continue the game once again. 'still persevering?' kai chuckles, eyes still glued to the screen then eventually lifting his head up to admire your determination. 'this is why i love you..' looking back down, he whispered.

'ack! i could've caught vaporeon..' you sigh in defeat, abruptly falling back, with the failed pokemon catch and background music. though the background music felt more like it was teasing you more than pitying you. still lying down, you open your eyes and turn to face your birthday boy and smile at the dusty blonde, cinnamon eyes still fixed on the screen.

slipping under the warm, off white covers with him, you wrap your arms around his torso; smushing your face against his chest.

he smiles, putting his yellow lite on his bedside; now with his undivided attention on you. he places his lips on the top of your head with his arms embracing your figure. feeling a bit silly, you decide to slip under his grey hoodie which you swore was the softest, most warm material you've ever touched. or maybe its just kai.

with a much more satisfied, and comfortable expression and position, you say your last words before you could slowly drift of into sleep.

'mmm... i wish i could stay like this forever n ever...' escaped your lips as muffled, slurred out mumbles.

'happy birthday hyuka..'

'thank you, my player 2.. theres no other way i'd rather spend my birthday than this.'

#tomorrow x together #txt #txt drabbles #txt fluff #txt oneshots #txt scenarios #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #kpop drabbles #huening kai #hueningkai fluff #hueningkai x reader #hueningkai x y/n #hueningkai x you #hueningkai #hueningkai drabble #hueningkai oneshot

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uzumaki-rebellion · 1 year ago

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“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 4, Chapter 73″

Masterlist HERE.

youtube

"They say she get it from her Mama…

I put that on my own mama, on my hood I look fly, I look good You can't touch my bag, wish you could I look fly, I look too good Put that on my own mama, on my hood…"

Victoria Monet – "On My Mama"

T'Challa lifted his newborn son from his fluffy pram blanket and gently burped him near the wall-sized window of the Sun Room. Nakia fed the baby constantly and after only a week of being alive, Toussaint was fatter and his belly became a round ball that his father liked to tickle.

The deep rich melanin had evened out across his son's body and looking down at the tiny face, T'Challa witnessed a mirror, a version of himself that depended on a family to raise him up the right way. He kissed Toussaint's forehead, then rocked him quietly.

"This is the best place to catch the last rays if you don't want to go outside…"

T'Challa turned to the sound of N'Jadaka's voice.

"Just sneaking in some time with him alone before I go to the ball," T'Challa said.

N'Jadaka touched Toussaint's hand and the baby squirmed and grabbed a hold of his cousin's index finger.

"He's strong," N'Jadaka said.

"Here."

T'Challa handed over his son and N'Jadaka cradled the boy much better than he did. Of course, he had more experience with Sydette when she was a baby. But T'Challa learned quickly and studied how N'Jadaka moved with the little one, the natural ease giving him the confidence to do better himself. He still became nervous caring for Toussaint, so the little trips away from Nakia's side helped him shore up his daddy skills. When Shuri had been born, T'Challa had been at university and didn't have an opportunity to care for her as a newborn with so many palace attendants looking after the princess and Ramonda. Like his son, his baby sister had been a precious tiny being that made him too self-conscious about screwing up his interactions. The Black Panther had faced terrors that the mind couldn't conceive, and yet a seven-pound bundle kept him feeling fluttery in the brain and hands.

"Lotta hair," N'Jadaka said, touching a curly loc on the top of Toussaint's head.

N'Jadaka scrunched his face at the baby with various silly expressions making T'Challa laugh.

"You are good with babies," T'Challa said.

"I do alright. You'll get the hang of this cuz. Wait until he calls you Baba for the first time… man, you'll float on cloud nine. When Sydette said that to me, I swear, I must've grown fifty feet taller. Kids…they make life different… make you see things differently if you let them."

"I understand that completely now. I worry that I will be an overprotective father, or worse, a father who allows too much because how can I deny this child's wondrous face?"

"You'll find balance."

"I hope so. I would like to have a relationship with my son the way you do with your children. You are an exceptional father, N'Jadaka."

The king looked into T'Challa's eyes and a humbleness rested there.

"I raise my children the way my parents raised me, with respect, kindness, and plenty of unconditional love. They believed I could do anything I set my mind to and supported me with all of my interests. I felt at ease with them… could talk about anything under the sun and I would always know they had my back. When I had to live in juvie for almost a year, I discovered how blessed I was to have my parents. Even if it was for a short period of time. Some children never know love from the adults that bring them into the world. There's so much suffering for no reason. I cherish all of my memories with them and I try to pass on their wisdom to my kids."

T'Challa reached into the leather pouch that hung around his neck and pulled out some Wakandan currency folded into a neat square.

"Riki paid me this to make another male baby. I was told that Yani explained to him that the father determines the sex of the baby, and he asked for this money back from Nakia so he could give it to me. I am giving it back to you because Toussaint is a lot of work and I can't imagine having another baby too soon. It is your turn to bring in more boys," T'Challa said.

N'Jadaka grinned and handed Toussaint back to T'Challa, palming the money in return.

"Yani will decide when that happens, but trust, I am practicing,"

T'Challa cackled and N'Jadaka lowered his head, realizing he revealed too much.

N'Jadaka started humming a little, familiar tune, and T'Challa joined in by softly singing the words to "Lullaby Little One", peering at the snuggled bundle in his arms.

"He is the best of everything that I am," T'Challa said.

N'Jadaka glanced up at T'Challa.

"My father is proud of you… of us," N'Jadaka said.

T'Challa tilted his head and regarded his cousin's face with curiosity.

"I visit them…my parents…over at Black Creek whenever I need to think about my purpose and my role as king. It calms me. Reminds me of my duty to my family too. Baba loved you with all his heart and he is happy that you and I are together. He said it was the way it was supposed to be. He still watches over you too, Cuz. And your son," N'Jadaka said.

T'Challa lowered his head and let out a shuddery breath.

"Hearing that pleases me, N'Jadaka. I feel peace in my heart now that you and I are one."

He looked out over the window view of the kingdom.

"I have made peace with my own father. It has not been easy walking in his shadow. I have laid that burden to rest as you told me. You and I have children to raise and a nation to protect. Tonight is a very important gathering," T'Challa said.

The king gazed at the river below busy with night merchants and leisure boats passing in and out of Birnin Zana's brightly lit port.

"Tonight we watch nations curry favor with us. Niganda's president and the Prime Minister of Mohannda have been acting salty as fuck with our inquiries about border disputes and encroaching on our territory. Canaan and Azania have remained open on everything since the first UDC meeting. Azania has slowly been jockeying for my attention even more since we hosted the inaugural UDC in their country. They would like to host the next meeting at the end of the year. I suggested rotating gatherings as an option, although Canaan would prefer they all be hosted here."

T'Challa grinned.

"It is a sly way of getting into Wakanda twice a year," T'Challa said.

"I know. But we have to appear egalitarian. North Africa is already feeling slighted because I won't let them in yet."

"Tunisia did not help them with their behavior."

"I'll worry about the north later."

"Niganda and Mohannda will be our main troublemakers. They will be all shiny teeth and glowing eyes for you in front of the other nations," T'Challa said.

"Umama reminded me yesterday that shiny teeth don't mean people are smiling at you."

"This is true. You will learn tonight the masks those two countries have worn for centuries when dealing with us. My father kept them at arm's length for over thirty years."

"Time for me to bring them closer."

N'Jadaka checked his kimoyo.

"I'll meet you on the bridge at eight," N'Jadaka said.

The king left him alone and T'Challa gazed at his son. His kimoyos lit up with a pulsing white glow. An urgent signal from Captain America.

T'Challa used a voice command to bring up Steve's floating avatar. The deep creases on the Avenger's forehead and the tight-lipped stare conveyed a grim mood at the Avenger's compound. For a brief moment, Steve glanced down at Toussaint and a faint smile perked up the American's lips.

"Your new son," Steve said.

"Toussaint."

"That doesn't sound like a Wakandan name."

"It's Haitian. What is going on?"

"We may need your sister's help," Steve said.

"With what exactly?"

"We're in the middle of a delicate situation and if we can't solve it…T'Challa, some invaders arrived and attacked members of our team. Vision… he's in a lot of trouble and we're trying to protect him."

"Zero hour?" T'Challa said.

"I'm praying that it isn't. Can we count on your help if we can't keep him safe here?"

"Our king is prepared to assist," T'Challa said.

"Wanda and Vision were attacked in Scotland. Their assailants were after the mind stone. Please inform King N'Jadaka that we will be in touch again soon."

The fear in Steve's eyes soaked through the avatar. T'Challa ended the call and stared into the eyes of his son.

"You are not even a week old and your Baba and cousin must fight to keep the world whole in order for you to live well."

He pushed back against the cool dread gliding up the base of his neck.

The Avengers were a tight team despite their internal differences. Steve Rogers was frightened and desperate for Wakanda's backing. N'Jadaka needed to get through the night with T'Challa keeping a sharp eye for turncoats. One thing at a time though. Get through the ball and then await any more news from the Avenger's compound.

"Come, my son. Let us return to your mother so Baba can do his job."

The noble women Yani chose as her Ladies-in-Waiting prepared her fresh make-up after her dinner with N'Jadaka. Zola was a member of the Panther tribe. She had a soft athletic build with fetching eyes and was one of the first Wakandan elites to befriend Yani during her first weeks in the country. She knew all the gossip and schooled Yani about who to watch out for in the close-knit upper classes. Ilana was more guarded. Although she had been friendly toward Yani in the beginning, their friendship was a slow bloom once she became better acquainted. Her gorgeous figure and lush head of thick hair made her a stand out on the noble court, and they shared a love of music and dancing. Yani liked that she was a member of the River Tribe for it gave a nuanced look at nobles from a balanced perspective. Ramonda encouraged her to have all her Ladies from the Panther Tribe, but Yani insisted on a mix and asked Marisol and Twyla to be on her team too. It gave her the ability to have eyes and ears in the wider society since Marisol and Twyla moved outside of the palace. Twyla had her professional Eco-Tourism business and Marisol had accepted an invitation to study in the Temple of Bast while also teaching Candomble at the University of Birnin Zana. If the queen had to have a close team, then she wisely chose the best available to her, and Zola and Ilana were her best investment.

Outside of her own family, the two noble women were generous and protective of Yani as they had been trained to do all their lives if they were lucky enough to be chosen by a queen to serve in the palace. The Court of Nobles vied for positions serving the royal family, and the queen's inner circle was the most coveted placement among the women. Not only were they privy to the inner machinations of the royal family, but they were also closer to snatching up partners of high standing. There was a strict vetting process and it took a full six months to get final approval from the council of elders and the king himself. Part of the vetting process had been eye-opening and a little disconcerting to Yani. The Ladies not only served the queen but they were at the beck and call of the king too within his home, and in the past, Wakandan kings often used the women as their concubines and what the elders called "prep women" if the kings were unmarried. The sexual explicitness of what they would do for the king or queen made Yani's face burn, but it was no different than the lifestyle Ayomide and M'Baku lived high up in the mountains.

Yani studied books in their ancient family library that had illustrations and tales from past rulers, and she confessed to Zinzi and Efetobo in their private consultations that she worried that N'Jadaka's enormous sexual appetite could overwhelm her once she became queen, and she was not one to seek out the help of other women. She was too embarrassed to ask Ramonda and Umama how they dealt with their sex lives. Zinzi calmed her fears and reminded her that every generation of rulers decided how they would work out their domestic household, and that the queen had a lot of pull in nixing anything they weren't comfortable with. Shock sat on her face when she was also told that a queen could have male or female lovers if the king were away for a long time. At least they believed in equal favor.

There was no way N'Jadaka would allow another man to dick down his woman while he was gone. In the ancient books, to keep the queen from becoming pregnant from her temporary substitute, male concubines were made to wear prosthetic dicks designed in the shape of the king's phallus so that the queen's vagina would remember her husband. Yani was shown dildos hollowed out from rubbery pieces of wood from antiquity. She could see where her man's dick came down the bloodline. The Udaku's always had girth and heft.

The ancient sexual proclivities fascinated her, and she found herself questioning her moral conservatism. Once, while Dante allowed her to look at one of N'Jadaka's old computer tablets back when he was Erik Killmonger and she was learning about his family in depth, she stumbled across a hidden file of sex vids. Holed up in her suite, she watched Killmonger have intercourse with various women on his travels. Sometimes there were two or three women at a time. The experience of watching him from angles that she never saw had her sweating, and she soaked plenty of panties rewinding images of him cumming and pleasuring other women.

Yani struggled with her confusion as to how she could dread her man finding another woman to cheat with or replace her, and yet get stimulated and wetter than an ocean seeing him have sex with others. Hearing him moan another woman's name and observing his lovers lose it over him forced her fingers between her legs as her clit beat a rhythm that needed satisfying and moaning of her own. She spent hours watching the vids, not only because she missed Killmonger so much, but because her orgasms were explosive imagining him doing all of that in the flesh, right in front of her. Even when he returned and they struggled to reconnect, Yani would sneak peeks at those vids to satisfy her cravings for him.

Preparing to be his wife was an education that allowed her to look within herself and discover that she had more kinks than she realized.

Exhibitionist. Check.

Anal play. Check.

Bratty submissive. Check.

Humiliation kink. Check.

Roleplaying. Check.

Spanking. Check.

Choking. Check.

Cuckquean? Who knew?

As much as she was dead set against sharing N'Jadaka with Disa in any polyamorous royal union, she tried to understand why complete strangers with her man aroused her, and having him be with Disa bothered her so much. Perhaps it was the impersonal nature of the sex he had with those beautiful women around the world. N'Jadaka was simply fucking and being explicit to satisfy his cravings. There was no love or true affection. Truth be told, Yani sometimes enjoyed that fucking energy more than when they made tender love. Something about the way he manhandled women made her pussy jump. Especially when he slapped them for being disobedient.

Yani knew N'Jadaka found Zola and Ilana attractive. They were enamored with him themselves just as everyone was who came into contact with the king. N'Jadaka was bigger than life in person, and he oozed a dangerous charm that held people enthralled. Yani had grown accustomed to his effect on people. It made her feel powerful in his presence because he doted on her openly. Zola and Ilana did the same to Yani, their affectionate and playful manners touched on a strong sisterhood. They loved the idea of a foreign queen ruling. It shook up the elites and made their lives more interesting. Without N'Jadaka saying anything, Zola and Ilana were always the first to go on the defense for Yani if they caught wind of negative gossip toward her. The Queen's Ladies knew the pedigree and secrets of everyone and cut them to the quick if they said one bad thing about her. Marisol, Twyla, and Disa liked them. So did the children. Especially Joba and Riki. This gave Yani the assurance that she had chosen her confidantes well. They wanted N'Jadaka to succeed because they grew up hearing the stories of Prince N'Jobu and were open to being out in the world instead of hiding behind their protective shields ignorant of everything. The new king ushered in the age of far-reaching Wakandan influence and that ignited their passions for the future.

Zola held out a golden jaguar mask that would cover the top half of Yani's face.

"Do not take this off at all tonight," Zola said.

She helped Yani stick it on her face with the sweet-smelling adhesive.

"Those foreign nations need to be captured by your seductive allure and the mystery you represent," Ilana added, touching up Yani's fresh lipstick.

"This is true," Zola said, stepping back to look at the mask, "A powerful king such as ours will have the world by the balls with you standing next to him looking this captivating."

Yani turned to face the large mirror in her dressing room inside of the king's home. She almost gasped herself looking at her reflection. Zola winked at her through the mirror.

"Yes, that is our queen right there."

Ilana lifted the train for the dress with Zola's help as Yani stood to take in all angles of her reflection. She was stunning and she knew it. Tapping a nervous finger on her engagement ring she turned to her Ladies.

"Tonight, after the ball, I will be with the king," Yani said.

Both women lowered their heads at the mention of N'Jadaka from her lips to show respect for her. They slipped on gold cat-claw finger armor on her index and middle fingers. Umama sent her the family heirloom. The long and deadly-looking finger jewelry was an ancient heirloom that belonged to Queen Tiye and Queen Shuriya. Yani was given a week's long lesson on that woman and having items that belonged to queens the entire country admired was a huge deal. The elder Queen mother explained that Yani would set the new standard for how a queen should be, and to never take any interaction for granted.

"I would like for you both to prepare me for him later. He is under a lot of stress and I want him pampered. Understood?"

"Yes, Princess," they answered in unison.

"Leave me," Yani said.

Zola and Ilana departed the room to wait for her in the spacious living room downstairs. She stared at her image again and then sauntered out toward her bed chamber. Heading to her beautifully carved bureau, Yani pulled out N'Jadaka's smoking pipe that she snuck away from his private bar. She lit it up and rested on her bed, allowing the herb to burn a small cloud of smoke before she puffed on it, settling her mind for a long evening representing the entire country. She wasn't the queen yet, but the palace and the press had begun calling her the consort and she had to be on her best for N'Jadaka and the world.

The chemicals in the plant kicked up in her bloodstream and her breathing became deeper, less shallow, and anxious. She closed her eyes and focused on how she would walk, how she would enunciate her Wakandan well, and use the king's good English when necessary. Her mind drifted and she started chanting an old Wakandan proverb she learned that Queen Tiye was credited in writing. Loosely translated it meant "There is power in the walk and the word", but when recited quickly and under duress, it became a verbal narcotic for Yani to decompress whenever she worried about representing so much power. The niggling fears of not being good enough taunted her despite her assertive pushback.

Going out into the ballroom would be another performance, and as a former singer and social media star, Yani knew how to cultivate the image of a woman in control. This would be a performance of a lifetime, her coming out to the world stage. The herb slowed down the whirring in her brain and chipped away at the self-doubt and nervousness. She chanted the first Queen of Wakanda's proverb over and over until she dozed off into a twilight sleep, sinking deeper and deeper…

The scent of burning and black smoke stung Yani first before she even noticed the blazing fire. Acres and acres of lush vegetation went up in a fiery red-orange wave of flames that lit up the landscape and blanketed the blue sky above with encroaching darkness from the belching of acrid smoke. Watching the burning fields, Yani expected to see a powerful dragon sweeping down from the sky and lighting up the world. Instead, she spotted the serene figure of a woman torching the earth with fire as her other hand wielded a sharp blade.

Yani put a hand over her nose as the smoke choked her throat and burned her eyes. She coughed, leaned forward, and spit out fire and smoke from her own mouth. Startled, Yani cried out in fear and the woman turned toward her, iron black hair wild around her head like a crown of ebony flames.

"Come burn this with me, gyal," the woman said.

Yani hesitated. The wind had whipped up the flames to towering heights and the heat increased, ready to lick and scorch her skin.

"Fiyahbun for this, not you," the woman said.

She thrust the torch out toward Yani.

"Come, come…step quick. Yuh know mi…come from mi. I hear yuh sing fuh mi—"

"Queen Mary?" Yani said.

"Mi no stranger to mi own pickney. Come. Burn…."

Yani took hesitant steps, unsure if she was dreaming or high from the herb in N'Jadaka's pipe. It felt real. Smelled real. Looked real.

"Ah dou-dou, step strong. Yuh come from strong people. How yuh 'gon stand with that Big Man on the hill walkin' like that?"

Queen Mary sucked her teeth and Yani changed her pace and ground her bare feet sturdy on the earth.

When she reached Queen Mary, she took the torch from her hand.

"This too," Queen Mary said.

Yani grabbed the long shiny cutlass in her other hand and wasn't surprised to see that Queen Mary still had another torch and cutlass in her grasp.

"Feel that weight, gyal? That's the only weight you should have on you from now on. The Big Man on the Hill needs a queen to be his equal. You are that, hear mi? Burn it all."

Yani touched unburned portions of the field, and despite being in the middle of a raging inferno, the fire never touched or singed their skin. But Yani felt the heat from her greatest grandmother's body and witnessed the flames shining in her dark black eyes. Eyes as black as Sydette's… as black as Joba's.

The smoke swirled into a thick blanket blinding Yani's sight, but she kept walking forward with Queen Mary until they passed through to the other side of a pristine beach with water so clear it that made her weep with longing for her old cove. Queen Mary closed her eyes and took a deep breath before flinging her torch and cutlass into the sea.

"Your turn to carry it, Queen Yani. I will rest and watch yuh for always. Be a big woman now. He 'gon need yuh fierceness when him put new babies in that belly and in your hands…"

Queen Mary reached over and placed a warm and gentle hand across Yani's stomach.

"Time will soon come when him need yuh tuh fight for dem babies, hear mi gyal? Him pickney powerful. Your blood mixed with his is so powerful that even your enemies will fear your children. Go back there now, show the world yuh come from mi. Show them how we cut and burn to the ground anyone opposed to us. You are his fire… his true blade…"

The water shimmered as Queen Mary walked across the top of it, no longer burdened with holding down the line. That was Yani's job and she gripped the torch and cutlass with a new confidence, facing the mighty blaze behind her. Walking back through the fire her body sensed a tugging back into bodily consciousness outside of the spiritual and she bolted up from the bed, her fingers clenched around nothing but air. But the sensation of the blade and torch were still there in her grasp. Glancing at her kimoyo, she knew she was late meeting N'Jadaka. She stepped off the bed and rolled her shoulders.

Show time.

N'Jadaka waited for Yani out at the entrance of the bridge. She was running late, so he parked himself between both palace structures to give her fifteen more minutes before he graced his foreign guests with his presence. From the reports inside the ballroom, the attendees were having a grand old time although they were breathless with anticipation to see the king of Wakanda in all his glory.

The doors to the East Palace bridge entrance swung open and a set of Doras with four Ladies-in-Waiting flanked Yani who made his heart lurch when he saw her fully.

"Fuck," he gasped under his breath.

Marisol and Twyla made up two of the four ladies accompanying Yani and they grinned with knowing at the expression on his face. Even his personal guards made unintelligible sounds with their mouths when the vision of a new-era queen stepped into their midst.

The deep cobalt blue of her gown stole the richest hue of the waters back in St. Thomas. Her lace hood rested across the top of her head but the upper half of her face was covered in a bright gold jaguar lace face mask that enhanced the cat-like appearance she was going for. It was designed exactly the way his Umama's decorative jaguar mask looked, with the sharp cat ears laced with saffron diamonds. The tight corset made the tops of her breasts look like lush fruit while the rest of the gown had a long train that the two extra ladies-in-waiting watched out for as it swept behind Yani a good ten feet long. N'Jadaka's betrothal beads sat snug on her waist and hips.

Stunning burgundy lipstick with gold flecks at the center displayed Yani's plump lips, and her eyes dazzled everyone who gazed at her.

A queen.

N'Jadaka couldn't move. The air had been knocked out of his chest harder than a punch from an enemy. Everyone around them stood in stunned silence and stared at his fiancé with the masked mystique. There was an aura about her that his intuition told him was spiritual in nature. Yani stood in all of her glory, but she also stood on the shoulders of Queen Mary. That energy radiated from her thick and blazing, and it was enough to make Ogum smack N'Jadaka in the back of the head with Bast kicking him in the shin, lowering his right knee for him as he brought himself low to the ground. Holding out a hand towards her, he seized the moment to show the others the love and respect he had for her.

"Queen Yani N'Isiqithi, may I have the honor of escorting you to our first formal gathering together?" he asked.

"You may," she said, holding out her hand.

Most of her long nails sparkled with the colors of the sea with blue crystals at the tips. Fierce-looking finger armor covered the rest. He clasped her hand in his and lifted up from his knee, tucking her warm fingers into the crook of his arm. Chaperones be damned, he was holding his wife's hand.

Wife.

He paused and looked down into her eyes encased in the exquisite golden half-mask. This woman was his wife. The mother of his children. The woman who held him down from the moment she agreed to be his. His sly and mouthy island girl. The one who could bring him to his knees with just a touch from her hand and a twist of her lips. N'Jadaka was ready to show her off to the world. Two diaspora babies came home to the motherland to rule it together.

He grinned. Oh, to go back in time to the cove on his first day in St. Thomas. To see her naked and swimming in liquid heaven. To know that the moment he heard her voice and laid eyes on her that she was the one to stand with him there. His heart overflowed and he patted her wrist.

"Let's go show these people royalty," he said.

Across the bridge waiting for them, royal drummers kicked off a loud rumble that would announce to the guests that the king had arrived.

"Baby, there will be wolves in sheep's clothing among the crowd," he whispered to her as they traipsed the bridge and stepped into the West Palace.

"I am prepared for them," she said.

N'Jadaka looked at Yani. Her voice sounded different. Fierce. It came out sharp like an oyster knife ready to peel away the soft flesh of mollusks. Her pace matched his and there was a synergy coursing between them that was as thick as a Wakandan winter stew. They were evenly yoked as his Nana would say. She carried a warrior spirit in her steps.

Yani glanced up into his eyes and the sparkle of light from the hall lamps leading to the grand ballroom flickered like torch flames. Ogum shifted in his chest and Bast leaned on his head harder recognizing the power of her ancestors within her.

Lifting his left hand, N'Jadaka greeted T'Challa who waited for them in front of the entrance of the ballroom. Heavily guarded, security was tighter than normal. The thumping of music bled through the doors.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Always," Yani responded.

The giant doors were opened and they were ushered to the top of the stairs that led down to the merriment below. One thousand people stopped dancing, speaking, eating, and drinking right where they stood just to stare up at the top of the landing to gaze upon the dazzling image of King N'Jadaka and his Queen-to-be Yani. He held out Yani's hand to offer her a resting balance as they took their time coming down the steep stairs. Their titles were announced as the royal orchestra played the Wakandan National Anthem with their steps.

N'Jadaka escorted Yani around the polished floor in a wide circle so that all the guests could see them. They rounded the final curve and faced an eager audience that salivated at the sight of them before a roar of applause erupted. T'Challa stood to N'Jadaka's left, his lighter blue robes complimenting the king's outfit. The applause washed over them for eight minutes straight. Yani leaned into him and whispered, "They are hungry for your grace, kumkani."

"Let's give them a show," he said back to her.

He lifted Yani's hand higher and waved a hand for her to step forward and take more of the applause for herself. She took a graceful step forward and hundreds of Wakandan nobles began clapping and singing out Yani's name with pride in their voices. No one had ever seen a consort like her before in all of Africa. He made out a chant that they echoed throughout the ballroom. The Golden Jaguar Queen. N'Jadaka swept his gaze around the entire room. The energy was electrifying. He eased away from Yani to give her more attention and the chanting grew stronger, picked up on by the other foreign guests.

Yani had star power. The grace in her walk and the seductive twist in her hips hypnotized the people there. He would use it to his advantage. She knew she was a weapon and preened before the crowd, accepting their adoration. Holding up his hand to calm the audience, the orchestra kicked into the first real Wakandan waltz of the evening with the sounds of bright horns heralding the arrival of the king. As the thumps from a bass drum pulled in the full percussive section, N'Jadaka slipped his arm around Yani's lower back and also clasped her hand.

They had practiced together sporadically when his schedule permitted, but their times together in St. Thomas dancing around the beach, inside their home, or in the privacy of their old bedroom made their coming together seamless and unrushed. Yani gripped his shoulder and relaxed into his lead hand and he spun her out onto the middle of the ballroom. No one outside of the country had ever seen a Wakandan waltz, but to the king, it was an easy transition from learning how to two-step from his grandfather. He already had the natural dancing gifts of his mother, Califia, and the magnetic grace of his father, N'Jobu, but having Yani on his arm elevated the spectatorship. Yani added sways and small dips that brought him back to Juvay, and he contributed his own touches in his hips and feet from Brazil. The diaspora styles melded with the Wakandan steps. As the drum beats dropped away from a section of the music and the triumphant horns peppered the air, N'Jadaka broke away from Yani and circled around her as the dance called for him to do, and she gathered up the hem of her dress to allow herself to wind her hips and dropped her body low in time to the measured tones of the soulful, full-bodied sound. Her Ladies-in-Waiting, Zola, and Ilana joined with Twyla and Marisol chanting out a call and response that other Wakandan nobles bounced back to them around the ballroom, adding another texture to the mid-tempo orchestral music.

Yani rolled her shoulders and spun around toward the center audience and body rolled her curves, raising her arms in the air as if she were conducting the horns. She spun back around toward him and he was right there to clasp her hand and guide her around the floor once more as the train of her dress looked like a waterfall spilling from her hips. They were joined by other partnered nobles who recognized the signal move to join the king and his betrothed. At least one hundred of the nobles present, who were of the upper echelon in status, were allowed to dance with them. They lined themselves around the king and Yani, moving in tandem to ancient ritualized steps that N'Jadaka had already shown the audience. As all the Wakandan men stepped away from their partners, several women added the new flair that Yani introduced, winding their hips and bending their knees low.

When all the women had their hands in the air like his future queen, N'Jadaka knew that Yani had shifted the culture publicly. The heavenly sounds of strings and harps cued the men for their solo dance moves as the women stood to the side with their hands on their hips in an exaggerated fashion. N'Jadaka took that as a sign for him to cut up in front of everyone. The men around him on the floor gave their best to keep the women from upstaging their king, unfortunately, Yani's demeanor, her dynamic appearance, and the internal swag she carried like body armor rose up like a storm and the women followed her lead and stalked past the men to form the opposing line that became a dance battle as the sexes faced off against one another to execute polished steps. It was over for the men once Yani started dusting her shoulders and the women followed that example by bobbing their heads in a challenging fashion as if to say, "'Sup nigga, whatchu got now?"

N'Jadaka raised his arms up and down to pump up the men and they fell into exquisitely choreographed legwork. He had never been in a fraternity ever, but the king stepped as if he went to an HBCU. The men threw down, exciting the foreign guests. Their flying arms, jumping legs, and the practiced, exaggerated turns of their heads as they raised their communal gaze skyward to welcome their ancient forebears aroused pride in N'Jadaka. He was a Wakandan king and the world would never ever see another like him again until one of his children ascended the throne. He caught a glimpse of Umama, Baba Z, Dante, and Ramonda sitting up high in private seating above the orchestra. Their bird's eye view made him feel good…watched over. Umama and Dante held their hands up waving to the music. In another protected section sat Marisol, Twyla, Zola, and Ilana who watched over Yani, ready to spring into action if she needed anything.

The dancers made all the turns around the floor that went with the music and his favorite part came up next that headed them to the home stretch…the stroll. It was a cool-down the heart rate move that allowed the men to prance one final time as they went to retrieve their partners with a dramatic flourish.

"You betta strut Big Nigga!" Twyla shouted from above.

N'Jadaka dipped his shoulders and pumped out his elbows as he slowly stepped to Yani. She had her hands on her hips and kept her head tilted in a haughty manner. All the woman thrust their chests and shoulders in time to the music awaiting their menfolk.

"Get your queen, kumkani!"

Umama's voice egged him on and he grinned, flashing Yani his dimples. Crispy horns picked back up like a clarion call to greatness. N'Jadaka lived in the moment, twisting his hips and bouncing his shoulders with aplomb. The energy from the men backing him up with bravado flowed through him as he inched his way to his woman.

He stopped in mid-step, staring at Yani for a split second before shaking his head. The music swelled all around him and nudged him to keep stepping, but N'Jadaka could've sworn Yani held a torch and machete in her hands. He blinked and her hands were still on her hips, daring him to be bold enough to take her.

N'Jadaka moved closer so that his body rubbed up against hers and he ran his hands down her shoulders, linking their pinky fingers together while he kissed her cheek in front of the entire gathering. Applause broke out and the nobles made space for the king and his queen to leave the dance floor first. The other elites in the room chanted his name and Yani's, forcing the first smile from Yani that wasn't directed at him. Instead of clasping his hand as they had practiced to walk back to the receiving line in time to the final horn blowing, Yani slid her armored index finger up his chest and pranced around him in a circle before lifting up her hand in a dainty fashion waiting for him to come to her first as she walked away a good three feet.

The Wakandan women howled and stomped their heels, ululations flew over their heads, and the cackle of his own grandmother floated down to tease him of the audacity they were all witnessing.

A queen putting her king in his place?

Never one to ever feel belittled by women he loved all his life, N'Jadaka slid his hands over his perfectly braided locs and swaggered over to Yani with such powerful strides that she immediately acquiesced the moment he towered over her and pulled her head back. He bared his teeth and his betrothed caved first by lowering her eyes from the heat blazing in his.

Yani moved her head from side to side and N'Jadaka kept his eyes on hers, moving his head to thwart her attempts to look away. She stepped backward and he kept walking forward, shepherding her into her rightful position on the receiving line. The waltz music tapered off slowly as Yani lifted her head and pressed her lips against his in complete submission, the eroticism of the moment not lost to the audience.

T'Challa met them on the side, his eyes and neck on constant swivel mode. He leaned in toward the king.

"Cousin, you have given the nobles something to talk about for the rest of the years to come," T'Challa said. "Do you need a break before the meet and greet?"

N'Jadaka shook his head and pulled Yani closer to him.

"Nah, let's feel these people out. You good, baby?"

Yani nodded, unable to speak or keep her eyes off of him.

The orchestra played the greeting march, where the foreign heads of state would walk up to meet the king and consort formally. N'Jadaka tapped an earbud where he could listen to his team fill him in on who was who and to also remind him of anything important to keep any blunders from occurring. He looked down at Yani again.

"You were swinging, girl."

"So were you."

"Do I look sweaty?"

"No. You look very handsome."

Yani reached up and wiped his lips from some of the glitter of her lipstick where she kissed him. Leaders were brought forward and introduced through T'Challa. He was most familiar with many guests from his time of rule. N'Jadaka puffed up his chest and minded his words. Yani became a gracious hostess, saying very little and only offering her hand to a select few to shake when she felt it was necessary. Everyone wanted to talk to her…stare at her up close, but T'Challa and the Doras kept the receiving line moving. She stayed friendly and open to the women and distant to the men, establishing a firm barrier of who could approach her. A soft squeeze or a heavy grip on his arm told N'Jadaka who she was comfortable with, and he stayed vigilant in moving along pushy leaders.

"The President and Prime Minister of Mohannda are up next after this group," T'Challa forewarned as the President and Secretary of State of a small African nation N'Jadaka helped destabilize in Special Forces approached him. Ogum tickled his senses and he rubbed his arm against Yani's to let her know he needed her charms even more.

"We are honored to have this opportunity here in Wakanda with you, King N'Jadaka."

The president was a squat, heavy-set man with a shiny balding head and a British-educated accent.

"Thank you for being here President Obiang. I hope your time among us has been pleasant," N'Jadaka said.

Obiang turned to the statuesque woman next to him who looked like she was ready to scratch the man's eyes out.

"King N'Jadaka, may I introduce to you our Secretary of State—"

"Madame Sacha Furaha. I am truly honored to meet you," N'Jadaka said.

It was less than a decade since he had ever laid eyes on her during a covert mission where he helped kill a brutal dictator. Sacha had sought the presidency after the assassination of her husband who staged a progressive coup to lead their country into true democracy. N'Jadaka was part of the Black Ops team that threw Sacha's husband's murderer out of a chopper right before the C.I.A. helped put in another puppet dictator. He spent several years making discreet, off-the-grid donations to her run for the presidency. The smile on his face showed he was pleased that she had at least made inroads into higher power within her country. His openness startled her, and Obiang. Yani interjected with her sweet voice.

"Madame Furaha, I have been so impressed with your work on the U.N. child advocacy program. I would love to speak with you at a later date about co-paneling a talk for the East African Health Summit this winter," Yani said.

Obiang and Sacha regarded Yani with open-faced wonder.

"King N'Jadaka has been keeping me abreast of West African nations that support world health issues for mothers and babies, and my work with the UDC is about to expand next year. I'm so happy that you were able to come to Wakanda so I could meet you in person."

Yani patted N'Jadaka's arm, giving the conversation back to him. He studied Obiang's face to see if the entry point he needed to connect with Sacha publicly was acceptable.

"I am so surprised and pleased that you would like to contact me in the future Princess Yani. I didn't know King N'Jadaka was aware of my work," Sacha said.

Obiang chomped at the bit to be included in the conversation. Lines appeared on his forehead and his jaw became tight. N'Jadaka made eye contact with Sacha.

"Princess Yani is a strong advocate for maternal health. I'll have her set up a time for you both to speak before your departure on Sunday," N'Jadaka said.

He gave Yani a look and she offered her hand to Sacha.

"I look forward to meeting you again soon," Yani said.

Sacha shook Yani's hand gently and seemed touched when the princess placed her other hand on top in a sign of true sincerity. N'Jadaka regarded the president once more.

"President Obiang, it's been a pleasure. Thank you both for being here…"

T'Challa ushered them along and Obiang glanced back trying to get N'Jadaka's attention for more speaking time, but the king of Wakanda looked away.

"Smooth as silk, Yani," N'Jadaka said.

He rubbed her lower back

"I'm sure you'll tell me later what that was all about," she said.

"Yep. For now, just know that you have blessed Sacha with the upper hand. Obiang knows that she has favor with you and will give her more leeway in their country because he sees that I talk to you about world affairs. He wants to get to me but can only do so through her at this moment. That'll keep him from sacking her. They're political rivals and their country is in turmoil again."

"Tell me what you want from her and I will get it."

"I know you will," he said, lowering his mouth near her ear. "If it all goes the way I want with your help, you and I just met the new President who will replace Obiang in their next election. I owe her," N'Jadaka said.

"N'Jadaka…" T'Challa whispered.

President Mubiri of Mohannda took hard footsteps to approach N'Jadaka. He wore an imposing military uniform decorated with plenty of colorful chest candy denoting his high ranking. All of his stars and bars indicated years of being in the Mohanndan service. Mubiri carried the ferocious energy of a warlord hellbent on bending Wakanda to his will. Tall, paunchy in the belly but strong in the chest, the dark brown skin and thick dark beard sprinkled with a few grays that defied the obvious dye job didn't take away from his formidable presence. Mubiri's Prime Minister had the long face and demeanor of an angry ram ready to butt heads with N'Jadaka at a moment's notice. Unlike the other guests, the men had their wives walking behind them. Their shiny eyes peered over their husbands' shoulders dying to get a look at Yani and him.

Yani shifted her feet and pressed her warmth into N'Jadaka's side. Mubiri had her a tad anxious, even more so when T'Challa narrowed the distance between himself and his king.

"President Mubiri, welcome," N'Jadaka said, extending his hand.

Mubiri glanced down at the friendly offer as if the Wakandan king carried shit on his hands, but he clasped sturdy fingers over N'Jadaka's and pumped them up and down pretending that he was pleased to meet him. N'Jadaka dropped his hand and turned his attention to the second sour-faced man.

"Prime Minister Ony…gentlemen, First Lady Mubiri and Lady Ony, this is my betrothed, Princess Yani," N'Jadaka said.

Both men regarded Yani with open, hateful lust, but gave her forced smiles. Their wives kept quiet but held their gaze on Wakandan royalty. The tension was excruciating. Even the Doras glared at the men ready to lift their sonic spears if the king gave a cursory signal to destroy them.

Hate.

The male Mohannda delegation hated Wakandans down to the marrow of their bones. It was little wonder they were in cahoots with Niganda to try and bring down the kingdom that had always bested them for thousands of years. Their hatred extended out from them like sharp claws against N'Jadaka's skin.

"We have observed many amazing sights in your country King N'Jadaka, but I do believe I have never seen anything lovelier than this woman next to you. Princess Yani, I enjoyed watching you during the waltz. I myself am not much of a dancer, but I would so like to share a dance with you later this evening… with the king's permission of course," Mubiri said in a softer tone.

The slick words were intended to get N'Jadaka's hackles up, but he ignored the attempt. Yani simply looked over the president's shoulder toward the next foreign guests waiting to meet the king. The slight made Mubiri's smile slide open wider revealing overly whitened teeth. He wasn't accustomed to being ignored by a woman. Ony cleared his throat and tried to wrangle Yani's attention back to them.

"My love, the other guests are waiting," Yani said, touching an ear on her jaguar mask.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening," N'Jadaka said.

Yani pretended to be bored and glanced at the audience instead of the Mohanndans. Mubiri and Ony moved away in a huff.

"Lady Ony, Madame Mubiri, I love your headwraps. The colors are beautiful," Yani said as the women crossed her path behind their husbands.

Both women stopped and gawked at Yani, pleased that she had spoken to them.

"Thank you so much, Princess Yani. Your dress is gorgeous and your staff has been wonderful. We loved the flowers your office sent to our accommodations," Madame Mubiri said, her words gushing out like a thrilled teenager instead of a middle-aged woman.

President Mubiri spoke harsh words in Mohanndan under his breath and his wife scurried away from Yani with Lady Ony at her side.

"You sent them flowers?" N'Jadaka asked.

"Mmhmm. I had my staff deliver bouquets to all the women dignitaries from the royal garden. The new blooms are in and they will never have an opportunity to see the variety of species we have this fresh."

T'Challa leaned into N'Jadaka.

"President Kojo Tetteh and the First Lady of Ghana are next," T'Challa said.

N'Jadaka looked into his cousin's eyes because his voice sounded tight and on the defensive. He glanced at the approaching couple and his stomach dropped.

"Oh shit," N'Jadaka said a little too loud.

Yani turned her head to see what the fuss was about and N'Jadaka braced himself to not give away anything when his former lover—and T'Challa's—sauntered their way with her popular husband.

Princess Vivienne Grimaldo, nee First Lady Vivienne Tettah still had her golden almond skin and the silky black tresses that made her a knockout. There were a few age lines near her mouth and the corner of her eyes, proof of her Monacan French heritage from her father's side of the family, but she carried the glimmers of her Senegalese heritage with her beauty.

President Tettah plastered a generous smile across his thick lips and paused in his steps when his wife halted suddenly and stared at the king.

"Erik Stevens?" Vivienne blurted in shock.

T'Challa fixed his attention on N'Jadaka as a slowly dawning realization crawled across his face.

"You're that Erik?" T'Challa said.

"What's going on?" Yani asked.

N'Jadaka calmed the worry in her voice by squeezing her hand that brushed against his. T'Challa recovered quickly and shifted his body toward his cousin.

"Kumkani, may I present to you…President Tettah and First Lady Vivienne Tettah," T'Challa said.

N'Jadaka offered his hand to Tettah while his wife drilled holes into his face with her brash stare.

"Pleased to finally make your acquaintance King N'Jadaka," Tettah said.

Vivienne tossed her head back, laughed out loud, and then clapped her hands together, bouncing her gaze between the two Wakandan cousins.

"I knew it! I knew it!" Vivienne cackled.

She clutched at her husband's wide arm.

"Darling, I met Erik years ago when I dated T'Challa in university. He worked for Tony Stark when he was still a teenager and visited the palace. He went from an intern to a king. What a remarkably small world!"

Vivienne reached out and gave T'Challa air kisses on both cheeks and stood back next to Tettah catching her breath from the fast clip of her words. She couldn't hide the gleam in her excited eyes from watching his every move. Tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear, Vivienne had a difficult time trying to stay cool and collected in front of him with her husband in the mix.

"My God, you look amazing Erik…pardonne-moi… King N'Jadaka."

"May I introduce my fiancé, Princess Yani," N'Jadaka said, maintaining his calm exterior.

Yani stared at Vivienne whose overbearing familiarity broke protocols.

"Welcome to Wakanda," Yani said to Tettah in formal Wakandan.

She held up her hand and tilted her wrist. Tettah snapped up the opportunity to touch Yani, unlike other men who were on the receiving line. Once he cradled her hand, his entire disposition and focus shifted. Vivienne watched her husband turn into a heart-eyed fan gazing into Yani's eyes. A smirk washed over her lips as she admired Yani's attire and half-mask.

"You are so beautiful, Princess Yani. Congratulations on your engagement to the king," Vivienne said.

Yani looked at N'Jadaka and he smiled. She was going to pretend to not understand English to catch him in some mess. Her keen observational skills caught the awkwardness of T'Challa and his own stilted interaction. He spoke to her in Wakandan, playing along with her charade.

"Thank you," Yani said in English, taking in the First Lady's demeanor with proper reserve.

Vivienne studied Yani from head to toe before settling on N'Jadaka again.

"Do you keep in touch with Tony? We ran into him last year in Europe," Vivienne said.

"No."

The curtness in his voice made Vivienne lift an eyebrow in surprise.

"He still talks about you. Did he even know you were royalty back then?"

"Please forgive my wife, King N'Jadaka, we do not want to take up too much time in the line," Tettah said, growing uncomfortable with his wife's informal behavior.

Vivienne glared at her husband, then glanced at T'Challa and N'Jadaka.

"My husband is right. We can catch up later on tonight. Princess Yani, I would love for you to visit Ghana for high tea. My oldest daughter is attending boarding school in the fall and I'm planning a wonderful send-off with other First Ladies in our region," Vivienne said.

N'Jadaka wasted time translating again and Yani nodded in feigned understanding, then offered her hand to Vivienne.

"Wonderful, wonderful! I have so many questions for you and I would love to be considered for any outreach you are planning in West Africa. I also have some pull in Monaco through my family. I am at your disposal. Wakanda is the future of the continent and Ghana is ready to support you on the world stage."

N'Jadaka continued translating.

"Agreed!" Tettah said, still under Yani's spell. "Ghana was the first African nation to free itself from the yoke of colonization. We were a great example for the rest of the colonized. But today, Wakanda will liberate us from the West forever. God willing."

T'Challa placed his hand on Tettah's shoulder and held out the other to show them past the king. Vivienne walked away giddy and N'Jadaka took a deep breath.

"I see chapters of our lives overlapped," T'Challa said with a grin on his face.

"She is a princess?" Yani asked.

N'Jadaka nodded. T'Challa swiped a nervous hand over his forehead.

"A princess and my ex. Thank Bast Nakia wasn't here. Those two hated each other," T'Challa said.

"Did N'Jadaka sleep with her after you broke up?" Yani asked.

N'Jadaka coughed. T'Challa's face went blank.

Yani slid her arm around N'Jadaka's as the last groups of dignitaries queued up to meet them.

"Both of you looked funny when she approached us, and I can always tell when N'Jadaka has messed around with a woman. He can't hide nothin' on his face when it comes to his dick," Yani said.

T'Challa and N'Jadaka both coughed loudly to drown out Yani's words as the President and First Lady of Angola greeted them. N'Jadaka was happy to speak Portuguese and move past any more Vivienne inquiries. Every few seconds T'Challa would look at him and they would both fight back the giggles that rested in their guts. There was nothing worse than an old baddie showing up in front of your woman. N'Jadaka handled himself with dignity and Yani seemed more amused than annoyed by once again having his past thrown in her face. It wasn't his fault that an old jump-off married a president invited to the king's ball.

Glancing over to the west side of the ballroom, he noticed Vivienne looking flustered as she gulped down a large glass of champagne. Scanning the guests, all eyes were on him and Yani. He shook hands with his final guests and guided Yani by her elbow to their front table. The orchestra sprang into action and hundreds flocked to the giant dance floor. Zola and Ilana brought them drinks and snacks as Marisol and Twyla took their new seats beside them to observe the excitement in the room.

Every foreign guest was drunk with the enchantment of Wakanda.

N'Jadaka and Yani nibbled on tasty finger foods and the best wines brought in from Birnin S'Yan. T'Challa stood at attention overseeing their safety. When she was ready, N'Jadaka escorted Yani around to mingle with the nobles and spend more time chatting with guests she liked. Her Ladies-in-Waiting cocooned her in a protective half-circle while she spoke with the high society who adored her and shunned the ones who wished her ill. He watched Zola and Ilana whisper in her ear. It pleased him to see that two of the most beautiful women of the elite were at their service. Their eyes were always coquettish and slightly downcast when he gazed at them directly, but they hid none of their fawning over his princess. They doted on her and cherished every second spent with their new queen. Smitten with her island ways and warmth, Zola and Ilana became Yani's champions. They cultivated a careful friendship with her that moved into a closeness that made N'Jadaka feel at ease in his heart. Yani wanted and needed more friends in Wakanda. Disa had her own life and Twyla was a busy married woman. Marisol spent more time at the Temple of Bast and away from the palace, and this left Yani alone most days. Zola and Ilana helped Yani transition back to the palace from her lake villa and he was grateful for that.

He watched them laugh together, hold hands, and gossip like old hens. It gave him the peace of mind to leave the country and know that she was cared for by women who wanted her to win with pure hearts. Zola and Ilana became his home assistants as he also made the adjustment of preparing for life as a married man with a house full of women who catered to his whims and spoiled his wife. Yani earned that soft life. The Ladies managed every aspect of Yani's day. From coordinating her daily outfits, doing her hair and make-up, preparing her baths, and organizing her social affairs in and outside the palace, their impact maintained Yani's life as a well-oiled machine. They kept in constant contact with N'Jadaka's personal assistants in the West Palace to coordinate any appearances with Yani out in public. They were her messengers and spies. Most days it felt like having a second set of Doras guarding his wife.

"She is really something."

The voice near his ear was full of admiration, but N'Jadaka put up mental defenses.

Mubiri sipped on a glass of plum liquor and his eyes darted about to see how close the Doras and T'Challa stood from their king. N'Jadaka had no fear of anyone in the ballroom. They would be obliterated the moment they attempted anything, probably by his hands rather than anyone else. The joke floating throughout the palace was that the Doras were there to protect people from N'Jadaka rather than the other way around.

Yani had passed by a group of nobles and headed to another area with her entourage to speak to other guests that fluttered around her like butterflies seeking nectar. He couldn't stop staring at her himself. An elegance shrouded her with so many admirers.

"How did a hard brute like you ensnare a beauty such as that one, eh?"

Mubiri swirled the strong liquor in his glass waiting for N'Jadaka to answer.

"She likes a roughneck with plenty of finesse I guess."

"Finesse indeed, because for the life of my dearly departed mother, I cannot imagine how you were able to take the throne of Wakanda."

"I am an Udaku. That's how."

"The most dangerous one they've ever had," Mubiri said, chugging down the last of his drink.

N'Jadaka shrugged and cut his eyes toward Mubiri's Prime Minister. Ony slinked over, blocking the view of Yani. T'Challa lingered within earshot.

"I will not mince words, King N'Jadaka. Our countries are enemies—"

"Tell me how you really feel—"

"Do not stand here and hide your disdain with smug remarks," Mubiri hissed.

T'Challa stepped forward and N'Jadaka jerked his head for him to fall back.

"Listen, Mubiri, you can hate my country all you want, but you'll never have us under your thumb, no matter how much you whine like a bitch to the U.N. and Niganda."

Ony thrust his chest out and barked, "Watch your tongue!"

A few guests turned their way and N'Jadaka pretended to laugh at a joke and slapped a strong hand on Ony's back.

"Your land claims are bullshit, just like Niganda's. And don't think I'm not aware of all the trash-talking you've been doing to the U.S. Vice President. You've seen what my country has. No other nation can defeat us. I suggest you mind your business and be grateful I'm not like y'all, bullying other countries to make myself look tough. I could easily come up with my own land claims and take back an entire shoreline on your coast if I felt like it. My great grandparents from way back were generous in not wiping your people out…expanding Wakanda when your country conducted raids to steal our women to repopulate your nation. Centuries of wars you've started have made you weak, stupid, and desperate," N'Jadaka spat out with an acidic tongue.

A bitter laugh flew from Mubiri's mouth and he sneered at T'Challa.

"It's only a matter of time before the shine of your country wears off. There are forces coming together to put you in your place. All I have to do is sit back and watch," Mubiri growled through clenched teeth.

N'Jadaka rolled his neck and took a bold step so that he was face to face with his enemy neighbor.

"Think I won't whoop your ass in front of all these people?"

"President Mubiri, I do believe you asked for a dance earlier."

Mubiri jumped at the touch of Yani's hand on his arm. He stepped aside giving the princess room to stand with them.

"Princess Yani," Mubiri said, becoming flustered with her presence.

Yani glanced at N'Jadaka, already sensing that he was ready to throw hands. The man talked tough trying to see if a new king could be bullied, and N'Jadaka was not giving him any satisfaction. T'Challa would've maintained a polite control, but the son of Califia was about that life and he didn't care if he made an international incident in his own home.

Yani deescalated the tension and disarmed Mubiri with gentle fingers clasping his calloused hands and pulling him toward the dance floor. Ony followed them to watch and T'Challa nudged N'Jadaka's arm.

"We should keep Yani around all the time. He's like a candle doused with water now," T'Challa said.

N'Jadaka kept an eye on Yani. She made a power move to defang Mubiri before her king showed out and spoiled the jovial mood in the ballroom. In a corner, the president of Niganda watched him, ready to pounce if the Mohannda delegation became bold in public.

"I'll let her work her magic," N'Jadaka said.

The king of Wakanda's mouth was in the shape of a weapon, and Yani recognized the signs that he was about to break another man in half. It was the way his shoulders tilted forward and his leg stance grew wide. Visibly he looked like a king cobra snake in attack mode and the rattle drew her attention to him.

A heaviness in Yani's hands reminded her of the words of Queen Mary and she clucked her tongue and her entourage gathered behind her as she moved like a cool wind across the ballroom. Eyes fell upon her trek toward the king and the circle of venomous men who surrounded him doing a poor job of keeping their voices down. Her confident strides had her gliding like an angelic vision in front of a thousand eyes. Having her Ladies-in-Waiting backing her up gave her presence added weight of a queendom on the come-up.

The sharp glint of N'Jadaka's gold teeth warned of bloodshed. Yani slid a soft touch onto Mubiri's silk sleeve. Wakanda's king glanced at her and the eyes watching her held others in his gaze. She arrived in a nick of time.

The tension in Mubiri's arm liquefied under her hand. She curled her fingers around the snarling wolf and pulled him away from N'Jadaka.

"President Mubiri, I do believe you asked for a dance earlier."

With her free hand, Yani dismissed her Ladies as Mubiri conceded her lead and followed her steps toward the dance floor. The orchestra played a wonderfully playful song that didn't require a lot of movement, so they swayed to the sounds keeping the proper bodily distance that prevented them from being pressed together, but close enough to speak privately.

"Have you been enjoying the ball?" Yani asked.

"More so now that we get to share a dance, princess. Wakanda is a wonder of the modern world—"

"You hate us."

Her words lingered in the air and Mubiri chuckled under his breath.

"My ire is not with you, Princess Yani, nor the Wakandan people at large. Your ruling family has never been fair to Mohannda nor Niganda."

"Correct me if I am wrong, President Mubiri, but your country signed treaties with Wakanda a long time ago and then broke them over and over again for centuries. How can you expect our people to trust you when you stab us in the back all the time?"

Mubiri's eyes narrowed and his hand on her back jammed harder into her fancy corset.

"Women shouldn't speak on politics. It is not becoming."

"I'm not just any woman. I am the king's consort. Threats against the royal family mean that your hate is directed at my children. N'Jadaka and I share three beautiful heirs."

Yani ran her left hand away from Mubiri's elbow and inched her index and middle finger up along his arm towards his neck, tracing the sharp points of her finger armor onto his visible skin. She pushed the points of the armor into the soft flesh that protected his carotid artery.

"King N'Jadaka's grandmother gave me these beautiful pieces of finger jewelry. Did you know that in ancient times, Wakandan queens wore poison-tipped claws on every finger? If they were ever captured or kidnapped, they could puncture the skin of their enemy and kill them within ten seconds without anyone knowing what happened. Blink, and yuh dead. This set I have on belonged to Queen Tiye, the first queen of Wakanda. Queen Mother said there's still poison inside these tips. There's a teeny, tiny triggering mechanism that works on how much pressure I apply…see how I have them jabbed in your throat? One slight move and a deadly liquid, like snake venom, could be released into your vein and stop your heart from beating."

Mubiri swallowed, and his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. His body became stiff and his breath shallow. Yani gave him a wide smile.

"I know men like to act all tough with one another, but hear mi man, I tell yuh this one time. Yuh come for mi king and I will come fuh you. Understand?"

"This is not right. You physically threaten a president in public?" Mubiri sputtered.

His lips turned into a snarl as irritation poured across his facial expression.

"Threaten mi blood and I will burn your whole country down. Don't test we…got it? It's better to get that message from me all quiet and polite rather than losing your life in a nasty way in front of all of these people by his hand."

A gleam spread in Mubiri's eyes. Whatever sourness had been there switched into something like secret laudation.

"Charming…beautiful…deadly," Mubiri uttered with a stronger breath.

He pulled her deadly fingers away from his neck, careful not to get poked by accident.

"If your betrothal doesn't work out Princess Yani, look me up. I could use a second wife like you."

"I don't walk behind my husband."

"I would have you in front of me… a tigress leading me."

"I belong to the Panther Tribe and to that king over there," Yani said, glancing over at N'Jadaka who regarded her with serious interest.

Mubiri cradled her hand and lowered his face to kiss the fragrant skin above her knuckles. His lips lingered a little too long and when he released her hand, his eyes shined with arousal.

"I should like to have had you scratch me with one of those claws, just to experience your wrath. Another time then, hmmm? King N'Jadaka is a lucky man indeed. I look forward to seeing you crowned their queen. You are quite a jewel in their treasure trove."

Yani wiped the back of her hand on her dress and sought out the company of the Council of Elders as she made her rounds again to greet honored guests at their tables. Mubiri stayed away from N'Jadaka and mingled with other presidents.

"W'happen?" Twyla asked once they were away from the dance floor.

Yani took deep breaths to control the anger that rested in her belly. No matter where they were in the world, men would always try to gain access to women for their own use.

"I let that man know that I would kill him if he threatened my family again," Yani said.

"He threatened you?" Marisol said, slamming down her glass of champagne.

Yani pulled Marisol back from throwing hands on her behalf. Zola and Ilana stared at her flabbergasted. Flashing her finger armor at them, gesturing for them to move in closer, all the women circled around to keep prying eyes and ears away.

"The Mohanndans and the Nigandans aren't hiding their hands at all. I told President Mubiri I would burn his country down myself if him harm the royal family."

Twyla covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.

Ilana shook her head in a daze.

"The Mohanndans are very sexist and mean. They treat their women like we are still in the stone age. Princess Yani, this will harm your pristine reputation with those people. He could use your threat as grounds for more aggression," Ilana said.

"That wasteman told me he would marry me if N'Jadaka doesn't. I don't think he's worried about ruining my reputation… more like enhancing his. He's an ass."

"What will you tell the king?" Zola asked.

Ilana and Zola had stress lines on their foreheads and chewed on their lips that were twisted up in concern.

"I will say nothing here unless he asks," Yani said.

"What do we do now?" Marisol asked.

"For now, I'll continue to socialize. But all of you keep your guard up. I have a feeling Mubiri and others are checking for new allies here who are against N'Jadaka's rule."

Yani studied the ballroom layout and took note of the groupings of countries based on regions and common interests. She squared her shoulders.

"Come, I think it's time I let Niganda know what I'm about," Yani said.

She snatched a glass of champagne from a passing attendant and swept her way over to the First Lady of Niganda.

"Madame First Lady Rakotomalala," Yani said, offering her hand, "I am sorry that the receiving line cut our time short to speak."

"Please, call me Onde."

Onde's smile was warm, friendly, and much too open for Yani to trust right away as being sincere. However, there were many men she had met at the ball who had wives opposite them in personality and politics.

"I saw you dancing with President Mubiri. Quite a character, isn't he?" Onde said.

"He is."

Yani glanced over toward N'Jadaka. T'Challa had left his side and he stood flanked by Baba Z and an older crowd of men from South Africa.

Onde wasn't shy with her stares. At least sixty years of age, and quite the looker still with her elegant stature and flamboyant sea foam green ballgown, Niganda's first lady exuded power and prestige.

"You are so young. I think you may be one of the youngest queens of any monarchy still left around the world," Onde said.

She held out her glass of bubbly to Yani's glass and they clinked them together. After sipping and sniffing around each other, Onde stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Yani and watched the dancing and other activity in the giant room.

"How are the other wives treating you?" Onde asked.

"They treat me well."

"Good. You are the talk of the entire ball. King N'Jadaka is quite the topic of conversation too, but you my dear… I do not envy the position you are in. Everyone here, even the Wakandans, chatter on about what kind of queen you will be. You seem quite popular with the younger crowd."

"And the older?"

"Still feeling you out because of your youth."

"What do you think of me?"

"Not sure. I have read up on you. Your background is so interesting. I like what I have learned and I am excited to see what King N'Jadaka's reign will be like for my country."

"I like how people here don't pretend with fake conversations. You all say what's on your mind."

"The King of Wakanda has made that possible. He doesn't play with his words, so no one else should either…"

Onde turned to greet Vivienne who snuck up on them from the rear.

"Onde, darling!"

Vivienne gave Onde air kisses and planted herself in the center of their group.

"This has been one of the best events I've been to on the continent since…maybe President Jabavu's coronation three years ago," Vivienne enthused.

Onde laughed and waved her hand at the memory.

"I drank too much and my husband vowed to never allow me out again, all the dancing we did hurt his feet. I had too much fun," Onde said.

"Have you danced since you've been here?" Vivienne said.

"I will later. The music is wonderful, but I want to enjoy all the sights inside this ballroom. It is exquisite. The architecture is so unusual. I loved the tour of the royal paintings, and that palace garden is to die for…"

A server walked past carrying a large tray of finger foods. Onde's eyes followed the tray and Yani giggled. Onde glanced at her, grinning at being caught salivating. Yani waved the server back over to them. Onde picked up a small, savory beef patty that Yani added to the ball menu. All the women did the same. Snacking together made Onde relax and they all chatted for a full twenty minutes before President Rakotomalala sauntered over with piercing eyes to retrieve his wife. Onde stuffed another beef patty in her mouth and licked her fingers. She touched her husband's shoulder and turned to Yani.

"Princess Yani has been a lovely hostess. I've learned so much. I think we should have her as a special guest for the Melon Festival," Onde said, touching Yani's arm.

The idea didn't please Rakotomalala. His burly frame and hard mahogany face didn't hide his distaste. Onde ignored the chilly reception.

"Men, I swear, they act like they can't set aside differences. This is why there should be more women running things in the world," Onde quipped.

"King N'Jadaka says that all the time," Yani said with pride.

"Smart man. We need more like him," Onde said.

"Thank you for your invitation to visit Niganda. I have never been to a Melon Festival before…it sounds like a lot of fun," Yani said.

"Oh, you will love it! We have so many varieties and…malala, what is it?" Onde said, staring at her husband.

"There are some people I want you to meet. Please excuse us," Rakotomalala said, whisking his wife away.

Vivienne snickered.

"Well done, Princess Yani. That is the most I've heard that woman speak in ages," Vivienne said.

"She is actually quite nice. With all of the bad blood between our nations right now, I'm surprised she would be that inviting," Yani said.

"Well, you are quite engaging. I'm glad that we can speak without an interpreter."

Yani grinned.

"I like how you move. You have a knack for making friends quickly. I should hope that could happen for us," Vivienne said.

Vivienne looked out upon the crowd.

"It's not easy coming into a world like this. I was told that you come from a humble background, but you are very skillful in navigating the unknown."

"I have plenty of experience working around all kinds of people. Even dangerous ones," Yani said.

"I see. Believe it or not, Onde is a shark, and you handled her like a pro. The Nigandans pretend to hide in the shadows of Mohannda… just like Cannan and Azania. Women in these parts are always the hidden hand propping up their husbands. It's why they fear your country."

"Yeah?"

"You are the new wild card. An unknown quantity. At least with Queen Ramonda and Queen Niyilolawa, African leaders knew where Wakanda stood. Now that we know what you really are, nothing is the same. I've been dipping around getting all the dirt in here. These people are rattled by you and N'Jadaka."

"You knew him as Erik."

"I did."

Yani's Ladies-in-Waiting stepped away as the princess took over an empty table near an ancient sculpture of Sekmet.

"He's so grown up now," Vivienne said.

She sighed and looked Yani in the face.

"When I first met him in my country, I suspected he was royalty. We hung out for a weekend with Tony Stark and I introduced him to my friends. God, he was so young and green compared to now!"

Vivienne laughed and tapped her fingernails on the table.

"Tony Stark thought highly of him. I always wondered what happened to N'Jadaka. Never knew he was related to T'Challa. Crazy times. I thought at one point that I would marry T'Challa and become the queen of Wakanda, but back then, my parents did not want me to be the queen of goat herders. Fate played a cruel trick when we broke up. How are Nakia and their new baby?"

"Do you know her?" Yani said cautiously.

"We were frenemies…no, that's a lie. She never liked me and I ignored her. T'Challa always thought I hated her, but she was just standoffish. Probably jealous. King T'Chaka respected me, but he never wanted me for his son. Ramonda was indifferent and I promise you, that was worse."

Vivienne gestured for a server to hand her a glass of wine.

"It's hard being an outsider in the motherland," Vivienne said.

She drank deeply and wiped under her lip when a bit of red wine trailed down. Yani noticed throughout the evening that Vivienne drank a lot.

"My mother comes from old royal birth lines in Senegal. She's Wolof. Highly educated and a visionary for her time. She married a foreigner and became thrust into a new monarchy. My family wanted me to marry a European with influence, but I wanted to come back to Africa…reverse the migration and come back to my roots. Unfortunately, I am considered a "toubab", a white person. The Alex Haley thing didn't work for me exactly."

"How did you meet your husband?"

"I returned home from Senegal and took a trip to London. T'Challa and I broke up while he was in school there, and ironically, he introduced me to his classmate at the London School of Economics. We hit it off and a few years later, I have three children and became the First Lady of Ghana. A happily ever after."

"Is it weird being with someone that your ex hooked you up with?"

"No. By the time we broke up, I was finally over the Prince of Wakanda."

Her eyes lit up and Yani turned her head.

N'Jadaka approached the table and sat down next to Yani.

"Did you come to see what secrets I may be spilling about your time with Tony?" Vivienne said.

N'Jadaka waved over a server and picked up a small glass of plum liquor.

"Nah, just needed a break," N'Jadaka said.

Yani touched his face. Already she could tell that the ball was draining him. He could go for several hours around a large crowd, but then he became antsy to leave and be on his own. N'Jadaka kissed her hand and glanced over at Vivienne.

"It's good seeing you again," he said.

"Same."

Vivienne looked around the ballroom.

"Where is T'Challa?" Vivienne asked.

"I sent him home to be with his new baby."

"He and Nakia must be so proud."

"They are. I hear you have three rambunctious ones at home. Your husband showed me pictures," N'Jadaka said.

"They are amazing and I wouldn't change one wild hair on their heads. What about you?"

N'Jadaka tapped his kimoyo and a recent picture of Sweet Pea, Dumplin, and Sunshine popped up.

"Look at that!" Vivienne said with delight.

"You still running through people's pockets with your poker hands?" N'Jadaka asked.

Vivienne chortled and pointed at him.

"You kind sir were the Oakland card shark. Did he ever tell you how he won four million on one poker game with my uncle in Monaco?"

"No," Yani said.

"He beat me out of half a million and used it to bankroll his next hand against three royal heirs. Then he played against a Saudi king and walked away with a cool twenty million. The palace still talks about that night and my uncle dreams of playing you again. How much of that money did you spend?"

"Gave a lot of it away to family and charities," N'Jadaka said. "The bulk of it I put into a trust for my grandfather overseen by my Uncle Bakari."

Vivienne's face turned stern. Yani gazed across their table and caught Madame Ony, First Lady Mubiri, First Lady Rakotomalala, and a few other women from Canaan and Azania moving as one unit toward a table filled with women outsiders.

N'Jadaka peeped the gathering of the herd. Vivienne leaned forward.

"Erik, you must move with stealth around these people. My husband and I support you one hundred percent because we see the vision you promote. But Ghana is just one unwavering ally for you," Vivienne said.

President Tetteh cruised by the table as a jazzy tune filled the air. He scooped up Vivienne to dance. Before she became a speck on the dance floor, she glanced back at Yani.

"Princess Yani, stay true to yourself. You have what it takes to influence the hidden hands."

N'Jadaka scooted his chair closer to her and his Doras blocked access to them.

"What did she mean by that?" he asked.

"She knows I can handle myself around all of these people."

They held hands.

"Are you tired, love?" Yani asked.

He nodded.

"Let's do one more cruise around the room and then I'll call it a night," he said.

Standing together, he held out his arm and she wrapped her hand around it. Their Ladies-in-Waiting followed in step. Zola and Ilana lifted her train as they zigzagged through tables and bid goodnight to nobles and guests. The surge of energy directed at N'Jadaka forced Yani to observe everyone with a keen eye of discernment. There were so many varying emotions on their eager faces.

Envy. Jealousy. Desire. Attraction. Curiosity. Apprehension. Lust. Wonder. Fear. Admiration.

N'Jadaka was a rock star in their midst and the people surrounding them gave her the same questionable looks. She matched the king's pace and concentrated on her queen's march with her steps to mirror his confidence. The world was his stage and Yani finally experienced up close what he was up against whenever he left Wakanda. If Africans throughout the continent were wary of him, that feeling had to be denser among non-African nations facing an unprecedented shift in global power.

President Tetteh and Vivienne met them at the bottom of the staircase that led back up to the bridge connecting the west palace to the east. Vivienne gave Yani a hug first before N'Jadaka leaned in to do the same. It was a visible sign of support. Yani knew Vivienne was smart enough to use the optics to her advantage. Ghana was in full solidarity with Wakanda.

They faced the audience one final time.

Everyone seated stood up out of respect as the royal march was played by the orchestra. N'Jadaka waved to his grandparents and then waved to the Council of Elders and nobles. They were a sight walking back up the stairs with Yani's long train scaling the steps in a theatrical display of high fashion. Reaching the top, they faced their guests one last time and N'Jadaka held her hand tight, showing the crowd that they were united as equals.

Out in the fresh air, Yani breathed in deeply, pleased that she had done her part at the ball well. At the elevators that would whisk them up to their home, he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up, kissing her passionately in front of their entourage.

"You showed the fuck out. When I tell you those people had no idea who they were dealing with!" N'Jadaka gushed.

Yani turned and bid goodnight to Marisol and Twyla who were escorted by Doras to be shuttled home on the Royal Scorpion Fighter. Riding upstairs it seemed like the king's energy flowed back into him as he shared bits of conversations.

"What the hell did you say to Mubiri because that nigga didn't bother me the rest of the night!"

Their Doras and Ladies were the only ones on the elevator with them.

"I put him in his place."

N'Jadaka looked deep into her eyes.

"Word got back to me that you scared him."

"I did."

N'Jadaka leaned up against the elevator wall with his mouth parted.

"How?"

Yani held up her armored fingers.

"Here I was thinking you were just trying to calm the situation by taking him away."

He touched the side of her face with the back of his hand.

"Yani, you don't ever have to fight. I got us."

"I just underlined whatever you told him, that's all," she said with a smirk.

"Queen moves."

"Of course. My king is the most important man in the whole world."

Yani danced around the elevator, snapping her fingers and rolling her hips all around him. Zola and Ilana clapped their hands and the Doras pretended not to be impressed. Stepping out into the spacious hall of their floor, Noxolo and Aneka stood guard at the front entrance, relieving the ballroom Doras.

Aneka opened the door for them and Zola removed the finger armor from her hands along with her lace hood covering. Yani sent her Ladies away to prepare her bath and evening ritual.

"Baba! Mama!"

Sydette ran to them in her yellow nightgown and Riki stayed on her heels greeting them.

"You two are supposed to be asleep. It is way past your bedtime!" Yani scolded lightheartedly.

"But you promised we could see you if we stayed awake. We never got to see your pretty dress, Mama!" Sydette whined.

Their night nanny, Kora, stood nearby watching.

"We'll take them up, Kora. Thank you for getting up so late with them. Could you let Dakarai know in the morning that the king and I will be up late tomorrow? I won't need her until after two. She can use the free time to relax," Yani said.

"Goodnight Princess Yani," Kora said.

Yani spun around so Sydette and Riki could see all of the gown. She reached out to N'Jadaka to have him do the same, but she paused. He stood staring down at their children.

"Everything alright?" Yani asked.

N'Jadaka angled his head as Sydette and Riki touched her dress and lifted her train, hiding under it.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"This is the first time you and I have come home together as a couple… to be with our kids. It's like how I imagined, y'know? We go out for a good time and come home to our family."

"Can I see your mask, Mama?" Sydette asked.

Yani pulled it off and handed it to her. Both children took turns putting it on their faces before stopping to look up at their parents.

"Back to bed," N'Jadaka said.

He bent down and lifted both children up. Yani followed him to the in-home elevator that took them to the second floor, avoiding more tiring steps. Giving Sydette plenty of kisses from them both, N'Jadaka put her to bed, and then they walked to Riki's room and lowered his nightlight brightness. More kisses were given and the tired king walked Yani to her wing on the same floor. Zola had warm water and scented oils waiting for her out on her balcony bathtub. The heating lamps and balcony glare cover were on, and Ilana stood near the vanity mirror to collect the rest of Yani's clothing and clean off her makeup.

"Give me a little time and I'll be up to see you," Yani said.

"I'll come down to you. I want to sleep in your bed," he said.

Ilana lowered her head and averted eye contact after hearing the king would be coming down to the queen's bedchamber.

"Okay," Yani said.

"Nice job tonight Ladies. I liked how you took care of my queen," N'Jadaka said.

He left the room and Ilana checked the bed to make sure it had plenty of pillows for the king. Zola zipped in carrying warm body oils and lubricants, placing them on Yani's nightstands in reach of the bed.

"What would you like to wear for the king tonight?" Ilana asked, holding up a comm tab with images of lingerie and body jewelry.

"The king is exhausted…hmm…maybe that one…no…I want him to see a softer color. Yeah, the lavender and the full-body chain. In case he wants me. The one with the leash in the back," Yani said.

Ilana quirked her lips at the choice of a body chain. It was a seductive piece of jewelry that rested around her neck and draped across her breasts, hips, and thighs, very subtle, but the leash hinted at bondage play and choking.

Zola showed Yani a soft color palette in case she wanted some lip gloss and light makeup. Yani picked a light pink shimmer gloss, eyeliner, and blush. Ilana assisted in removing the corset gown, heels, and underwear. Yani slipped on a luxury robe and sat down in front of the prominent vanity mirror across the room where her make-up was slowly taken off and her skin hydrated with pre-bath botanicals.

"Princess Yani, you were sensational tonight," Zola gushed.

Ilana nodded her head in agreement as she rubbed Yani's scalp with hair gel removal.

"King N'Jadaka has made the other leaders aware of how firm he is in his place on the continent. You must be so pleased with everything that happened," Ilana said.

"We made a great impression," Yani said.

"I thought the king would be upset when he found out about what you said to President Mubiri. My heart was beating so fast!" Zola said with giddy abandon.

"I always speak my mind. King N'Jadaka is used to it," Yani said.

Yani stood up and looked at Ilana.

"Prepare the king's favorite nightcap and have his morning bedclothes ready on the chaise. Dust the pillows with lavender and a hint of jasmine," Yani said.

She padded out to the balcony and let moonlight bathe her skin first before Zola pulled off her robe and helped her into the large standing tub.

"Oh, God, this is perfect," Yani purred.

She dunked her head under the water and Zola adjusted the bathing neck pillow so Yani could soak comfortably.

Left alone on the balcony, she closed her eyes and listened to the gentle footsteps of her Ladies preparing the bedroom for the king's arrival. She didn't spend too much time soaking, just washed away the vestiges of the ballroom success down the drain.

Zola held out a fluffy towel for Yani as she carefully climbed out of the tub. She could've easily taken care of her grooming herself, but the perks of having Ladies-in-Waiting were not lost on her. It was pampering and catering at the highest level and she reveled in it.

She walked into a full body dryer that pulled the water off of her and then she headed back to the vanity where she was slathered with body butters, lipgloss, and a light hair oil to control the curls growing longer at the front of her scalp. Stepping into the body chain, she made sure her waist beads still moved easily. Her nudity didn't faze any of the women, their eyes concentrated on making sure she was perfect to please the king. Compliments from him were like gold, and they fed off of it with ravenous expectation. A happy king meant a happy queen. A happy queen meant their status was secure to be in her good graces.

Yani thought about the evening more. Wakanda had become the center of the world and in order for the other African nations to have roses in their future, they had to mind the thorn that was King N'Jadaka.

Ilana smoothed back a few baby hairs on Yani's forehead and the lights in the room flashed a faint lilac color, it warning them that the king was on his way. She slipped on a different ankle-length cover-up and picked out some anklets and toe rings for extra pizzazz.

Zola jumped up and held the tray that contained the king's cocktail, and Ilana stood next to her with hands folded waiting for requests. Yani positioned herself to greet him the moment he walked in.

"Kumkani," Yani said.

N'Jadaka kissed her forehead and Zola offered the drink to him.

"Thank you, Zola," he said.

He sipped and Yani held his free hand, escorting him further into her bedchamber. His scent was the fresh handmade soap he liked from Birnin Bashenga. His bedclothes were loose cotton cream pajama bottoms and a billowy v-neck drop shoulder shirt of the same color. She offered him a seat on a cyan-blue double high-back chair. He took it. Yani nodded for Ilana and Zola to pull up footstools near his feet. They did so and pulled off his slippers, beginning the careful massaging of his feet. N'Jadaka pressed his back further into the chair and closed his eyes. Yani carried away his empty glass and placed it on her dresser. She took a seat next to the king and Zola offered to rub her feet too. Yani declined, wanting all the attention to be on him. She unloosened his hair and combed her fingers through the locs. He leaned over and kissed her. His full lips devoured hers and he ignored the other women, not caring if they saw him slip his tongue in Yani's mouth. He needed her. He rested a hand on her waist and nuzzled his mouth against her neck. She glanced down at Zola and Ilana and they kept rubbing the king's feet, ignoring their affection for one another as they had been taught. She had asked them to do a traditional reception for a Wakandan king, and part of that was doing anything the queen asked.

Her lower parts came to life as he continued kissing her neck and gripping her waist tighter, pulling her in closer. When he let out a low moan at having her to himself, Yani lifted up from the seat and stepped away to face him. He rested palms on either side of the chair and his prominent erection was visible to everyone in his pajama bottoms.

Yani swallowed hard, her nerves racing. The women stood up and uncovered Yani for the king.

"Damn, baby," he muttered under his breath.

His dick jumped. So did her clit. Their gazes lingered on one another. His eyes dropped down to look at her folds and piercings. He became bold in front of her attendants and rubbed on his dick. Yani didn't know how much further she could go. The exhibitionist in her liked being watched by others, but the next steps in traditional old-style service that the women were equipped to do still seemed too much.

N'Jadaka was very aware of what was happening. He had been trained too and knew what came next and he had a playful glimmer of mirth in his eyes wanting to know how far she would go with it. A challenge rested in his gaze.

He stood and his height arched above them all like a rising sun. Ilana and Zola waited quietly with their hands folded in front of them.

"Undress me," N'Jadaka commanded.

Yani thought she would stop them so she could do it herself in private, but a part of her deep down wanted them to see what rested beneath the bedclothes. His dick pointed toward her and both women would have to maneuver his pajama bottoms over the girth. Her heartbeat sped up. Her pussy became wetter.

Zola and Ilana untied the cloth ties on the king's shirt and pulled away the top. He slid his arms out of the sleeves and Ilana folded the shirt and placed it over the armrest of the chair. Holding his arms out to his sides, N'Jadaka kept direct eye contact with Yani while the women unfastened the ties on his pajama bottoms. They pulled the waistband out over his dick and it bobbed in front of them as they lowered the pants. He stepped out of each leg hole, and Zola folded the pants and handed them to Ilana, who piled them on top of the shirt. They lowered their heads for more instructions, but they couldn't unsee the god body in front of them.

"Leave us," Yani said.

Zola and Ilana held up their hands to them and slinked out of the bedroom. N'Jadaka burst out laughing then.

"Baby, the stress on your face," N'Jadaka teased.

He gathered her up in his arms and she hid her face against his chest, embarrassed that he could read her so well.

"Ain't no way you could handle them fluffing up my dick for you," he said.

"Tonight was a big deal, I wanted to give you the full king treatment back home," she sighed into his chest.

They kissed, their tongues dancing a secret code that made them both groan. His hand dragged down to her vulva and when he fingered her folds, he pulled back from her.

"Damn, Yani. This pussy is soaked. That shit got you really excited."

His eyes looked serious as he gently held her face.

"It turned you on, didn't it?" he asked.

His voice lacked teasing, and the subdued tone only gave curiosity.

"Tell me what you liked about it, baby," he said.

He sat down on the double chair again and pulled her next to him. Their thighs touched and he put an arm around her.

"Tell me," he asked again.

She rested her cheek against his chest. There was no way she would tell him that watching sex vids of him with other women aroused her beyond belief. Yani still grappled with that knowledge about herself. The fantasy of it was a safe place, but turmoil rumbled in her midsection while she watched it in person, even if was just them pulling his clothes off and seeing his big dick and witnessing his pre-cum pooling on his tip. Her pussy clenched then. Simply thinking about it ignited her pleasure. Yani stuck to the present.

"I like that they get to see how good your dick looks. While they pulled your pants off, they touched it a little. Got to feel how hot it is…got to see how thick."

Her breath heated his skin with desire. His dick grew harder and he stood it up for her.

"You wanted them to touch it, huh? Stroke it for you?" he said.

"No…yeah…I don't know why I get wet. I don't want you with anyone else in real life…but I wanted them to do the rest of the ritual like the old days."

She reached for his dick and slowly fisted it for him. He kissed her again then stopped as his dick became slick with pre-cum.

"If you want to try and go further, explore your fantasy or comfort levels with something new… we can do that. I'm not saying that because I want to fuck them, but I want you to be happy. You're all I need Yani…"

He smothered her lips again and she twisted her thumb and index finger under the head of his dick, the mushroom cap spilling clear fluid all over her fingers. His fingers played with her pussy and her head fell back.

"You wanted to watch them oil me down…huh?"

He whispered in her ear. Yani whimpered and nodded.

"Did you want them to suck my dick too?'

She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the denial wrestling in her mind.

"What did you imagine, baby?"

His tongue licked her breasts and his fingers plucked at her nipples. She was supposed to be pleasing him, showing him how much she appreciated the pressure he was under by facing nations in opposition to him. Instead, he was trying to give her the safety of exploring her imagination with him.

His touches made her skin burn with need. He rested his lips near her ear and dipped two gentle fingers in and out of her pussy with occasional rubs on her clit.

"I want to see them suck your dick… on their knees. Licking each side," she said.

He hummed in her ear and slowed down his fingers until she began panting.

"Then what?" he crooned, his voice raspy and all sexy.

She squeezed his length and started stroking it faster.

"I wanna watch you look at me while I play with my pussy…and Lola and Ilana suck yuh good and slow at the same time…and you watch me cum…and then…and then… Killmonger…yuh cum all over their faces!"

Her release clenched around his fingers and she bucked her hips wildly.

"You got Daddy's dick spittin', baby! Look at my dick!" N'Jadaka shouted.

Her orgasm continued working his digits, and she looked at his fat erection spurting cum all over the carpet. They shuddered against one another as aftershocks spiked their hot bodies.

"Fuck…you were feeling that Yani," he said.

He lifted her up in his arms like he was cradling a bride and carried her to the bed. Placing her on her back, he fingered the body chain and tugged on the leash, testing its strength. He pushed her thighs back and jerked off above her before crawling between her legs, lining up the head of his dick with her opening.

"Cumming on their faces gets you off good," he said.

He pushed into her pussy stretching her walls and grabbing onto her heavy thighs.

"You know what my fantasy is?" he said.

She shook her head, her lips pursed from the intense fullness he always put inside of her.

"I want Zola and Ilana to watch me fuck you hard. I want them to see how their king fucks his woman and fills up her pretty wet pussy with so much cum…"

He lowered his head so that he could kiss her lovingly.

"They liked seeing my dick and they will work their asses off to see it again if you let them. I bet you that they'll go to their rooms in the lower suite and play with their pussies, thinking about sucking on my balls and getting this dick to stretch them out too. But this is all yours Yani… yours to do whatever you want with it. I'll nut all over their faces if you want… if that pleases you, baby. They can oil my dick, and suck on it for as long as you want them to, but I'll only cum when you want."

Yani groaned thinking about the women sucking him off as he fucked her deep. The vestiges of shame that she carried thinking those forbidden thoughts burned away with every thrust he gave her until she was clutching and clawing his back, screaming out "Killmonger!" over and over as she exploded all over his dick.

"Help Daddy put this cum on their faces for you Yani!" he yelled.

He spilled into her, moaning her name into the shell of her ear. Strong throbs from his dick laid her out, and they panted together, trying to gain control of their ragged breathing.

N'Jadaka gazed into her eyes with so much love.

"I want this all the time, Yani. You and me coming home together every night. Being with our kids. Tucking them in at night together. Tonight, you showed me how we'll rule together. You have qualities that you have honed for years that a queen needs today. You can handle ruthless people… like you did at the compound. You can host and make people feel welcome, just like you did at your old restaurant. Plus, you know how to convey knowledge and information to people just like you did at Eco-Tours. You're intelligent. Graceful. Calm under pressure. We fit, girl. Do you hear me?"

"Yes."

He nibbled on her ear, then sucked on her nipples before rolling over and holding her hand.

"In the future, I always want you to call me Killmonger in bed when we're fucking. That shit made me cum hard."

Yani giggled and he gave her dimples.

He slinked a hand behind her neck and tugged on the gold bondage leash.

"Turn on your side," he said.

"You were so tired earlier," she teased.

"Got my second wind with you."

He reached across her and grabbed a fresh bottle of lube. She helped open it and prepared her anal cavity for his dick. He grunted when he entered her, taking his time to get rooted in her ass before he pulled on the leash. Yani clawed the bed and took his anal fucking like a good girl. His moans and groans made her clit tap out and her guttural shouts of "Killmonger" heightened everything for N'Jadaka until he hunched over her back and hollered out his third orgasm. Freshly lubricated with his warm semen, he kept fucking her in the ass and begged for her to call him the nickname that terrorized the mercenary world.

They became free in the arms of one another inside the safety of their shared palace home, with their children sleeping peacefully in a far-off wing. The world outside was kept at bay with the smacking of hot, wet, flesh, fantasies shared, and a king loving his queen into submission as he twisted a thin gold leash around his fist.

Yani would have it no other way, and that pleased N'Jadaka.

A.N.:

There will be one more final chapter!

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