#kindred-decay

[seldritchowl]

Reference-sheet: Allen Sowl

Reference sheets: Allen Sowl Info: Very wip / TBA hehe :) ------------------- (Realised I never uploaded it here even though I finished this up for art-fight so yea ^^) -------------------------------------

Main image:

Markings and wing reference:

And an alternate clothing (+ 9 different variations ovo"):

My stoic,aloof though naive and tries to do good scholar owl boy who is going through alot, and trying to figure out some stuff. Including: --- Why he keeps attracting unwanted attention from folk calling him the wrong name/mistaking him for another? - Why does he keep dreaming of this weird place & person, of what prophecy?? - And who gave Nerath the 'great' idea of gambling the rest of our gold?!?

[decaying-lover]

due to Logan's adamantium skeleton, Wade would eventually have to watch him grow weaker and weaker, his bones betraying him as they slowly kill him from the inside out, until the day he eventually dies.

they both finally think they have someone who doesn't age, who can't die, someone they can spend eternity with. a kindred soul, meant to be. Wade would spend hundreds of years with Logan, him being the only constant in his life, the only person who truly understands him. his soulmate.

but eventually, Wade would have to sit and watch him die, taking care of his slowly decaying soulmate, unable to do anything to prevent it. Logan would die in his arms and he'd be left to wander the earth, alone and hollow, for the rest of time.

[deafeningladyruins]

Carnival of Shadows

1.The Encounter

It was a cold, moonless night when she stumbled upon the forgotten carnival. The once lively place now lay in ruins, overtaken by nature and haunted by echoes of laughter long gone. The air was thick with the scent of decay and the distant, eerie melodies of a broken carousel. She was drawn to this place, searching for an escape from her mundane existence, hoping to find solace in the desolation.

Her life had always been a battle against the shadows of her mind. Diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder, she struggled daily with hallucinations and delusions that blurred the lines between reality and the sinister fantasies her mind conjured. Tonight was no different; the whispers in her head were relentless, urging her to find peace in the chaos of the abandoned carnival.

As she wandered through the dilapidated attractions, she felt an unshakable sense of being watched. Her heart raced with a mix of fear and curiosity, each step further into the darkness amplifying the tension. Unbeknownst to her, Art the Clown lurked in the shadows, his eyes never leaving her. He had been watching her for days, fascinated by the aura of sadness and longing that seemed to envelop her.

Her footsteps echoed in the empty hall of mirrors, the glass reflecting distorted images of herself that seemed to mock her every move. She paused, captivated by her reflection and the strangeness of her surroundings. It was then that Art the Clown made his presence known. A subtle rustling sound, a fleeting shadow across the mirrors, and she spun around, her breath hitching in her throat.

There he stood, at the edge of her vision, a ghastly figure clad in a tattered clown costume, his face painted in a grotesque smile. She should have been terrified, but instead, she felt an inexplicable pull towards him. There was something mesmerizing about his silent, enigmatic presence. Her eyes met his, and in that moment, she felt a strange connection, as if they were kindred spirits in a world that had forgotten them.

Art the Clown moved closer, his footsteps eerily silent. He extended a gloved hand towards her, and after a moment’s hesitation, she took it. His touch was cold, sending shivers down her spine, but she felt an odd sense of security in his grip.

“Who... who are you?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Art the Clown remained silent, his eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and something darker. He gestured for her to follow, and she found herself compelled to obey, as if she was under a spell. Her hallucinations usually filled her with dread, but this felt different. It was as if she was being guided by a dark protector. Without a word, he led her deeper into the heart of the carnival, weaving through the rusted rides and decaying tents. The silence between them was deafening, yet it spoke volumes. She couldn't help but feel that this was the beginning of something twisted and inexplicable.

They reached the old Ferris wheel, its skeletal structure looming ominously against the night sky. Art the Clown gestured for her to sit in one of the dilapidated carriages. She obliged, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Why are you helping me?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Art the Clown tilted his head, his smile widening. He said nothing, but his eyes conveyed a message she couldn't quite decipher. As the wheel began to turn, creaking with age and disuse, she realized that this was the beginning of something she couldn’t quite comprehend. A dark journey that would intertwine their fates in ways she never imagined. As the Ferris wheel ascended, she gazed out at the twisted remains of the carnival. The world below looked surreal, almost like a painting from her darkest dreams. She turned to Art the Clown, her voice breaking the silence once more.

“I... I see things. Hear things that aren’t real. But you... you feel real. Are you real?”

For a moment, Art's expression softened, a glimmer of understanding passing through his eyes. Then, with a swift movement, he pointed towards the starry sky, urging her to look beyond the confines of her mind and into the vast unknown. The night was filled with unspoken words and shared silences, and as they ascended into the starlit sky, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was exactly where she was meant to be. This was the moment that marked the start of their strange and twisted love story, a tale of darkness, obsession, and unexpected connection.

---

Chapter 2

Hope you guys like it, this is my first writing of Art the clown, this is just the beginning.

[desswright29]

The Great Antipode

Pairing: Ex/Queen Shuri X Ex/Singer Reader

Word Count: A short Novel lol

Summary: Five years ago, you left Shuri on her knees in her hotel room. On the night of your wedding. The two of you moved forward with your lives both accomplishing great things. Will a celebration thrown for your latest accomplish bring the two of you back together?

Contains: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Domestic violence, slow burn, deprived Shuri

A/n: Ok y’all. Snuggle up for this one. It’s long af! But It has something for ALLL THE GIRLY’s. The romance girls, the angst girls, the smut girls, the slow burn girls, the music girls. And “Good bones” is an original poem. So I hope you all snuggle up and rub your feet together and dive in. Enjoy! Happy B-lated Valentines.

Good Bones by Shuri Udaku Who knew that the death of us could be so endearing? Laid to rest, the flesh of fearing Decaying beneath the thumb of time The stars in your eyes and my heart align

Weakness shriveled, and fell off the shape Kindred spirits take place in love’s nape A funeral began, to which we did not attend But tears fell through the soil, and growing begins

Time stood still and said “not yet” A reach in the night, yet our hands never met But I felt you, Sthandwa… I was never alone No strength in old vessels, but our love has good bones.

Walking along the foggy dock; the long coat of her tuxedo whisked gracefully in the windy night. Her vision was engrossed with the horizon of the navy sky, almost hypnotized by the green light that blinked at the top of the building in the city. The owner of the home that was a direct antipode to her own ran marathons through her mind. Though she couldn’t fully visualize it, she knew it was there. A perfect vertical axis from her home, to the home of her heart. She’d built it that way. Coming up on the end of the dock her stride  came to a halt. Her eyes shut, with the green light still invading her sight behind the lids of her eyes. She stretched out her arm,reaching for the light. For the love she’d lost five years ago. She reached for a sign. Even just a light wind to tickle the tips of her fingers. Any sign that maybe, just maybe she was thinking of her too.

“Ikumkani wam” Griot spoke through the Queens Kimoyo earrings. “Wakanda is calling.”

With a light sigh, her hand fell to her side, jaw flenching in frustration. She opened her eyes, staring right back out into the darkness that surrounded the relentless blinking green light. The darkness she deserved after the hurt she’d caused the only woman she’d ever truly loved. She turned on her heels, begining the walk back to what had become her second home. Turning her back on the darkness, and also the flashing hope of the green light.

“Bast. Hear my cry. I have done the work. If you see fit, please send my heart back to me.”

Across the axis the direct antipode to the home the Queen had built, was a JamesEdition penthouse filled with busy bodies, and buzzing conversations as everyone prepared for the big day! The fuss was partially interupted by the ringing of the doorbell. The door opened to reveal Mr. Bruno Mars. The best friend to the lady of the house. Greeted at the door by the butler, and led through the elegant grand hallway to the study. Where he was met by Mr. Michael Addai. His best friends husband. Michael quickly took the phone from his ear ending the call immediately to properly greet Bruno.

“Bruno! What’s up my brother!” He spoke with a loud booming voice, his walk just as boisterous. He stuck out his hand for Bruno to grab. 

“How’s it going man?” Bruno replies.

“Everything is everything man. That woman of mine has been talking about seeing you non-stop all week!” Bruno smiles affectionately.

“Well I should get to her then. I’m excited to see her too. I’ve missed her.” Mike smiles, wrapping an arm around Bruno’s neck.

“Inseparable the two of you. It’s quite cute!” He laughed big and loud, as the two of them entered busy living room.

The house was alive with music and bodies. It almost seemed as if it were a dance. Hair stylist, makeup artist, and wardrobe, moved gracefully around the large room. Their only mission being to perfect the beauty that sat in the center of the room. 

A luxurious silky white robe tied neatly around your waist, hung from your shoulders so elegantly. You sat leaned slightly forward, legs crossed as the makeup artist applied the last bit of gloss to your plump bottom lip.

“Well I’ll be damned! It seems as though you’ve made it my friend.” A light gasp leaves your lips. Your head turns and your eyes glimmer as they connect with your longtime bestfriend. 

“Is that you my love!?” You stood, rushing over to him with your delicately heeled feet. Arms raised prepared to be wrapped around your favorite person. You close your eyes as the two of you connect finding comfort in the warm embrace. 

“Did you miss me?” You say pulling away staring into his smiling eyes. “Everyday! Everyday I sat by my window in Rome and gazed into the nights sky missing my only friend!” He says, full of drama like only he could. You giggle pushing his shoulder, turning to take your seat back in the center of the room so that your hair could be finished.

“You’re lying. But I’m still flattered.” Bruno laughed along with you. 

“Not about the important part.” The two of you share another glance with mutual adoration.

“Bruno!” Your sister Danielle yelled as she trotted down the stairs to embrace him. “It’s been a while! I see your work in my travels often! Beautiful! Incredible!”

“Thank you Dani. I’m very flattered.” He says with a blush. 

“Yes! They are which reminds me I’m hoping to commission an original piece from you.” You chime in somewhere beneath all of the commotion. 

“I’d be honored. Especially, from a soon to be Grammy winner. Ten nominations is unfathomable!” You giggle and do a little jig.

“It still feels like a fever dream. I’m taking it moment by moment.” Someone began to fan you. Keeping you from overheating in all the commotion. 

“So Bruno, are you back in New York for good?” Michael asks, walking over to the mini bar to pour two glasses of scotch. 

“For awhile atleast, I’ll be settling. Just bought a new place over in New Rochelle. It’s nice though humble compared to the estate next door.”

“New Rochelle? Interesting. There’s an after party out there tonight. It’s being given by someone who calls themselves Sweet Lady. Have you heard of her? Anyway, I was planning for us to go there after sissy came home with the win!” Dani exclaimed, sitting elegantly on the couch in her flowing sundress. 

“Can’t say that I’ve heard of her, but I’m down to go.” Bruno replied, as Michael hands him his scotch and he nods in appreciation.

Your heart dropped to your stomach. “Sweet lady?” You say. “Sweet lady.” You say again in a whisper to yourself. Confusion crept up on your brow as the image of her sculpted face creeped into your mind. Within a blink she was again gone. 

“Y/n are you ok?” Bruno asks, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Hm? Oh yes. I’m fine. Today is just overwhelming in this best possible way! Let’s just get through the show first and we can discuss the parties later. They’ll be plenty!”

You say, joy prevalent in your voice. But, in the back of your mind that name continued to echo.

 Sweet Lady.

Slouched in her seat, leaning slightly to the left with her elbow resting on the arm of the chair, her thumb rested underneath her chin, and her pointer finger sat thoughtfully over her lips. Shuri sat sectioned off, secluded from the masses in an area of the building that was drapped in golden curtains and flooded with security. 

Nakia and Okoye sat beside her watching the stage with expectancy. Shuri’s fingers tapped along the table before she nervously reached forward, grabbing her drink, and taking a stressed sip. She was fixated, focused in on the screen as Victoria Monet sashayed onto the stage to present the last award you had been nominated for. Album of the year. Her heart pounded against her chest, and her palms were sweaty as photos of you and the other nominees flipped onto the screen. So far, you’d cleared eight of the ten Grammy’s you were nominated for and Shuri’s heart swelled with pride.

Victoria opened the envelope, and Shuri sat forward. Her elbows sat steady on the table holding up prayer hands. Underneath the table, her knee bounced uncontrollably. It seemed the world was moving in slow motion as Victoria’s eyes lit up looking up from the envelope. 

“Oh My God!! Everybody stand to your feet right now! Give it up for my girl as she comes up to except her 9th Grammy of the night!! Making history and surpassing Michael Jackson’s record of eight in one night. Mrs. Y/n Y/l/n-Addai!!!!”

The other nominees photo’s disappear, and Shuri’s hands flew to her mouth as she jumped to her feet. Pumping her fist in the air. “Holy Shit! She’s done it! She did it! That’s my girl!”

Her eyes welled, as she looked to Nakia who stood to the left of her, grinning, clapping, and hooting like a proud big sister. “Yeeeesss!!” Okoye stood stoic a hint of a smile on her face and proud eyes. 

The camera landed on you, standing stuck at your seat, tears streaming down your beautifully made up face. Your hands covered your mouth, identical to Shuri’s. Your mom scooped you up inside her arms holding you, rocking side to side whispering her pride in your ear. 

Your sister jumped up and down, her own tears falling before she joined in with you and your mother. Your husband waited patiently, smiling down at you taking your hand and the two of you share a loving kiss. The crowd was roaring, giving you a well deserved standing ovation. 

Suddenly, a longing took over Shuri’s body. The lump in her throat getting larger, and the direction of her tears changing. Shuri’s eyes zero’d in on his hand, resting delicately on your waist as you gracefully saunter up the steps to the stage to receive your award. That should’ve been her. Guiding her beautiful wife up the stairs, waiting at the bottom as you had your moment. That should’ve been her last name hyphenated behind your own. Instead, she sat hidden away. Wanting to support, and be there for you without ruining your evening with her past transgressions.

Your dress was simple and elegant. A silky black material, with a slit that traveled all the way up to your small waist and flared out beautifully. It trailed behind you as you gave Victoria a long tearful hug before stepping up to the mic and trying to speak. Your husband stepped up beside you pressing you into him. Your mouth opened, but nothing came out and you closed your eyes opting for a wet exhale as the audience cheered you on. Shuri’s eyebrows furrowed. Why was he still there?

You try again successfully “Whew, this is…..WOW!” You broke into tears again. As you spoke HE remained attached to your hip. Pressing your body into his side while you tried to deliver your speech. Shuri cocked her head to the side in annoyance. Until the sound of your voice took over the room again.

“You’ve all had to hear a lot from me tonight, so I’ll do my best to make this short.” A few chuckles float through the crowd. “If you look around you’ll see all of my family here. My mom, my sister, my bestie even flew in from his travels to be here tonight. Heeey Bruno!” You smile and wave and he smiled pumping his fist. “And my wonderful husband who’s always standing beside me. I love you baby.”  He gave you a peck on the cheek before finally stepping back. In an instant, a flash of sadness took over your face and you took a contemplative breath before speaking again. 

“A long time ago, I had a pretty amazing friend. Under difficult circumstances that friend grew to mean the world to me. Even in the middle of loss that would’ve sent most of us into a spiral of insanity, she didn’t break. She mourned, she tried, she failed, and she learned. She never gave herself the option to quit. Now today she stands as one of the worlds most powerful, innovative, world leaders of any time. Who has not only shown an undying love for her own people, but has spread that love over into our African American culture! And let us not forget she is a BLACK…WOMAN!” 

The entire crowd stood to their feet with a loud applause. You smile while wiping away a single tear, waiting for the crowd to calm down. “During my first album she’d fly in with her busy schedule, just to be in studio sessions with me and the crew until sunrise. Making sure all of our broke ass’s  ate and atleast got some sleep.” You laughed lightly as the crowd followed. “Outside of all of my musical inspirations that I’ve listed tonight, I would be remiss to not mention my greatest inspiration. The person who inspires my resilience, my tenacity, my work ethic. The person who showed me that it wasn’t enough just to be pretty and talented. But, that I had to be smart and unafraid to be a bitch that was about my business.” A few shouts of agreement sounded throughout the crow.

“So tonight I hope that she’s watching. I hope she’s proud, and I want her to know that if it hadn’t been for her, I would not  be standing here today. Thank you for loving me the best you knew how. But, most of all thank you for believing in me. This last one is for you Queen Shuri Udaku.” You held your award in the air before crossing your arms over your chest in a Wakandan salute. “Thank y’all.” The crowd roared.

Nakia and Okoye stood on either side of Shuri tears in their eyes, arms crossed over their chest. Shuri sat in shocked. Her right hand sat over her heart and her eyes were closed, as she listened to the sound of the roaring crowd. The day she lost you. She’d prayed. Prayed to Bast that she would make you and her family proud. That somehow she could rise out of the deep dark hole she’d dug herself into, clean and in good graces. Now, here you were taking your historic moment to acknowledge not only how she had impacted you, but her impact on the world. She let out a shakey breath standing to her feet. She crossed her arms over her chest. And she, Nakia, and Okoye placed there arms down to their sides simultaneously.

You turned to walk off of the stage and landed right into your husbands arms. He pressed your body up against his, trapping your lips against his in a sloppy kiss. When he pulled back. He yelled “Love this girl!” into the microphone. The crowd went crazy, clapping, laughing, and hooting. Shuri officially couldn’t do it anymore. Her hands shook. She was overwhelmed with the storm of emotions evading her senses and she needed to get away. 

“Shuri. Do you want to go, Usisi?” Nakia spoke up, noticing the distress in her little sisters eyes. Shuri took another sip of her drink. She nodded, wordlessly placing her drink back onto the table. Everyone at the table grabbed their belongings as Shuri stood to her feet. The Dora surrounded her, and Nakia and Okoye stood in front. 

Bruno looked up from his seat out into the sea of people, just in time to catch a glimpse of what looked like the Dora Milaje exiting the building. 

“What the fuck was that?” Your husband came up behind you whispering as you exited the stage. He gripped your hips rougher than necessary pulling you against him. “It was a speech Michael.” He nuzzled into your neck, breath tickling your ear. Your skin crawled.

“She can’t save you. You know that right? You belong to me.”

“Why on earth would you acknowledge her in your moment! That was YOUR moment y/n!”

“My moment to say whatever I wanted to say Dani.” You say, uninterested in your sisters opinion. You sat at the bar in your home sharing a celebratory drink with your mother and sister.

“And it was a beautiful speech baby girl. I’m sure Shuri was very touched.” Your mother says before glaring at your sister. “Dani we all know how you feel about Shuri. Let’s not ruin a good night with it.” Dani rolled her eyes.

“I’m just saying. She may be doing great things now but she still hurt my sister, so she’ll forever be the opp to me.”

“The opp? Girl…Ok street nigga.” You say rolling your eyes back at her.

“Well, it’s obvious the woman has grown and it’s ok for your sister to acknowledge that. Because she’s grown as well. Shuri didn’t go about loving your sister in the best way. But the love she had for her was undeniable. She just had some healing to do.” Dani smacks her teeth.

“Fuck her.” Your mother furrows her brow.

“Danielle” Dani quickly straightened up.

“Sorry Mommy.”

“Mhm. That’ll be my cue. I’m headed in for the night. I’m gonna go back to my hotel.” Your mom got up from her bar stool begining to grab her things. 

“Mommy we have plenty of room. I don’t know why you felt the need to get a hotel!”

“No no! You all need your space tonight. I figured you’d all be partying all night. And I may want to find me some company.” She winks at you and your sister.

“Oh nah. We’re not there yet mama.” Danielle says.

“Absolutely not. But do your thing girl!” You say, and you all laugh.

“Goodnight beautiful girls. Be safe tonight.” You mom threw over her shoulder as she walked out of your home.

“We should be heading out now too!” You give your sister an apologetic look before speaking.

“Rain check?”

“Y/n! I don’t want to hear that shit! Please tell me you’re not bailing on your big night! You won nine Grammy’s tonight! Let’s go have some fun! Everyone is waiting and want to celebrate you! This party is supposed to be one for the books.” Your sister stares at you incredulously.

“Well you go ahead! Everything was just alot tonight. I’m a bit overstimulated and tired. You know how I get. We can celebrate tomorrow I promise.” 

“Y/n-“ she began to protest.

“Really I’m ok. Me and Michael will celebrate in our own way.” She turns up her nose. “You’ll be back to see mommy tomorrow anyway. Go have fun! This is all of our night to celebrate! Take a driver!” Your sister hesitated, but eventually gave in.

“Ok. Tomorrow y/n.” She points with a stern glare. 

“Tomorrow.” Your sister looked at you with a bit of worry in her eyes. 

“You still thinking about her?” She asks.

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.”

“She did played a huge roll in all this Dani. Part of me wishes she could’ve experienced this with me.” Your sister shook her head in disapproval. 

“Well she can’t, because she fucked up that chance. She’s doing great ruling her country well. And you’re doing damn good without her. She wasn’t concerned with how you felt when she was cheating and how she feels now is none of your concern. Keep your eyes forward baby sister.” You cast your eyes downward. She lifts your chin.

“I’m so proud of you, and I love you.” She says giving you a hug.

“I love you too.“ You smile, and walk her out of your home. You shut the door leaning against it, you close your eyes and let out a small exhale. That’s when a full bottle of alcohol flew by your head. The sound of glass crashing on the door beside your head shocked your system, as a frightened squeal left your mouth. You gripped your dress preparing for impact. Michael grabbed you by the biceps pushing you into the wet spot and tiny glass shards left on the wall. 

“Michael! Please!” You tried breaking free to no avail.

He wrapped his hand around your throat hard. Cutting off your circulation.  

“How dare you acknowledge that bitch on our night?” 

“I’m sorry.” You rasped, hanging there helplessly. The color leaving your face.

“Don’t let all of these little accolades get to your head. You’re still a little piece of trash that lucked out and got me after the queen hung you out to dry. Remember that shit the next time you decide to publicly embarrass me.” He threw you to the ground into the pile of broken glass on the floor.

“Argh!” You yell out gasping for air, as glass peirced your arms.

“Worthless.” He mumbles as he walked away. 

You lie there in the glass, and once he was far enough away you inhaled deeply before, sobbing. Wondering how you had ended up here.

Rolls Royce, Bentleys, and Maybachs OH MY! The finest cars lined up outside of Sweet Lady’s home as they tried getting into the Estate. The open invitation Grammy’s party was indeed Bruno’s next door neighbors. He watched the house from the road as it lit up the sky. The music pumped loudly, and rowdy conversations could be heard for miles. Bruno maneuvered around the cars parked in front of his driveway trying to make his way up to his front door. A black envelope, lined with gold waited for him. Taped over the peephole. He looked around before carefully walking up on his porch, taking down the envelope and opening it. 

“I have an invitation!” Bruno yelled, with the card held high above the crowd. He found himself shoulder to shoulder with a sea of people trying to enter the gates of the grand estate. 

He continuously try’d showing his invitation to the random men in black suits that stood guard. But it seemed as though it didn’t matter, being that he was the only one who had one. Placing the invite in the front pocket of his suit jacket, he walked further into the party. His eyes filled with wonder as he’d never seen anything quite like this before. The home was exquisite. Lit up like an amusement park. It almost looked like a modern museum. There was a live band playing in the center of the fountain.  Dancers and servers everywhere with whatever food you could think of. Some for the bougie. Some for the hungry. And the drinks were endless! 

This home was what dreams were made of. Who is this Sweet Lady?

“Bruno!” A feminine voice called from behind him. He turned to see Dani waving above the crowd. “Hey! I see you decided to come! This place is insane!” She said. 

“Yea I did. I found an invite on my door. Did you get one?”

“No one got an invite.” Dani shrugged.

They moved through the party sipping cocktails and continuing their conversation. 

“Do you know her?”

“Only what I’ve heard of her. But no one has ever seen her.”

“Wow. I wonder who she is? She has to be a huge deal to live this way!”

“I’ve heard she’s some invisible industry big wig. That she controls the industry. You know Illuminati type shit.” Dani said. Another individual over heard the conversation as they began to ascend the stairs, and decided to add their bit of gossip.

“I heard she was a spy.” They say, causing a domino effect.

“I heard she was a bootlegger, on the run.”

“I heard she was a politician.”

“Who ever she is I’d like to know her.” 

Everyone looked at eachother able to agree on that statement.

“Excuse me? Peter? Peter Gene Hernandez?” A man in black interupted the gossip circle. Bruno was taken aback. That was him. His full government name.

“Um y-yes. That’s me.” He says, confusion apparent.

“Madame would like to speak with you. If you would follow me.” Everyone gaped at the scene dying to know what Sweet lady wanted with Bruno. Bruno looked at Dani his heart pounding a bit in his chest. She gave him a nod to follow the man and he slowly complied.

He was led through the large doors into a grand foyer, and up a staircase that could’ve easily been mistaken for something inside of the Metropolitan. Everything about this home was tastefully over the top. Whoever this mystery woman was, two things could be said for her. One: She was Classy, And Two: She was LOADED.  After being led through a long hallway. He was taken through yet another set of double doors that entered a much cozier area of the house. With beautiful furniture. Still plenty of room to entertain and a grand piano. A figure in a black and gold suit stood watching the party from a bay window. 

She was slender. Yet powerful in stature. Her hair was cut low. And her jaw, sharp. In some cases she could be mistaken for male. But for Bruno. There was no mistaking that posture. Before him stood…..

Shuri Udaku. Queen of Wakanda.

“Bruno my friend. How have you been?”

“Shuri?” She turned from the window. Finally facing Bruno. 

“In the flesh” She says raising her martini glass. Fireworks went off outside of the large windows as if this moment had been coordinated.  

“So I wasn’t tripping when I saw Dora leaving the award show?”

“No you weren’t tripping.” She giggled. “I guess we could have been a bit more discreet in our exit.” They both stood awkwardly. Shuri took a sip of her drink and ran a hand over head. 

“So they said you wanted to see me?” 

“Of course. Yes. Yes. I did ask for you. Um. I wanted to know if.. if she came?”

“Y/n you mean?” Shuri shifted on her feet.

“Yes. Y/n.” It was all starting to click for Bruno.

“No. She said she was tired.” Shuri’s face visibly saddened, and she turned back towards the window. Placing a hand into her pocket as she held on to her glass with the other. 

“She used to love parties…This was all for her.” Her head lowered. “I guess this was my way of celebrating her without having to disrupt her day.” Bruno looked at his surroundings.

“This house for her too?” Shuri just stared into Bruno thinking of a way to answer.

“In a way. Y/n always had big dreams. When we were together she always said she wanted something like this. Something huge outside of the Citadel where she could entertain, and have garden parties and things. Just some where for us to come and relax that had endless possibilities. So, I built her dream home. An antipode of sorts. I’m aware I’ll never have her again. But I come here when I want to feel close to her.” Shuri turned away from the window and walked over to the seating area placing her glass down and taking a seat. Bruno looked on, exceedingly impressed with the love Shuri had for you. “I know it’s silly. I just hoped that tonight she could atleast see it.”

Bruno thought back to tonight at the show. The blantant show of insecurity your husband put on. The cautiousness you held around him. How he wouldn’t let you have your moment completely. The inappropriate glances with other women that he thought no one noticed. Bruno had come to the conclusion that he didn’t really like Mike pretty early on in the evening.

“How’d you know I lived next door?” Shuri smirked. “Oh Bruno. You know better. I’m still extremely aware of my surroundings.”

Bruno chuckled, joining Shuri on the plush sofa. “If it’s any consolation, this place is amazing. And this is one hell of a party. She would’ve loved it.” Shuri leaned back before running a hand over her face. 

“Nah. This was stupid. I don’t know what I was expecting.”

“It’s really a beautiful gesture. Maybe you could talk to Danielle she’s here. She could put a bug in her ear.” Shuri shook her head. “Absolutely not! She’s more angry at me than Y/n. It’d be like arguing with a rock.” Bruno’s eyebrows rose in agreement.

“That’s true.” He leaned back as well. That’s when an idea hit him. “Hey! How about I invite her over for dinner tomorrow. Tell her to come alone. And you could join us.” Shuri sat up straight, her head turned towards him. She rubbed her sweaty palms against her pants before standing and pacing. 

“Y-you think she’ll come. That would be great! Dinner? That gives us plenty of time for us to get your grass cut. No offense. Griot. Contact the gardeners!” She began rambling.

“Whoa whoa. Calm down. Yes she’ll come. I’ve been gone awhile she’ll want to catch up.” The excitement in Shuri’s eyes was almost childlike. 

“Ok. Ok. Great! That’s great!” 

“So tomorrow?” Bruno stood, outstretching his hand for Shuri. She stepped forward taking his hand in hers and shaking. 

“Tomorrow.”

Bruno walked back out into the party. Dani stood at the entrance of the mansion waiting wide eyed as she sees Bruno approaching. She quickly meets him half way.

“Wellllllll.” She said excited for answers.

“I can’t give you anything. But just know… This all makes sense.”

The next morning Bruno woke up to the sound of power tools outside of his home. He quickly jumped up grabbing his robe rushing to his front door. He swung it open to see a crew of gardeners in his yard. Cutting grass, planting flowers. And… building a fountain? Shuri stood in the center of the yard overseeing the work being done. Bruno just shook his head and walked back into the house to prepare his home for when you arrived. 

Closer to time for dinner to start, rain started to pour from the sky. Bruno glanced out of the window of his kitchen as he put together some appetizers for the evening. An army of umbrellas marched up his driveway. Shuri leading the pack dressed to the nines. Bruno  opened the door for the barrage of people, Shuri stepped aside allowing them to enter Bruno’s home. The first two people carried a large 3 teir wedding style cake. The others carried tables, food, chairs and more flowers. “They say the rain will clear by evening.” Her eyes shifted around the yard looking over the work done. Her eyes never settling on one thing. 

“Yes it should.” Bruno says. 

“Is everything alright?” Shuri asks, finally looking his way.

“Ah. The grass looks fine if that’s what you mean.” Shuri looks around and then back at Bruno. 

“Grass? What grass?” And brushed past him walking into the house.

Time ticked by as they sat quietly watching the clock in Bruno’s living room. Shuri sat fiddling with her hands on the couch facing the clock. Her foot taping rapidly. Bruno leaned against the entry way to his living room watching Shuri’s internal panic. One minute after five Shuri hopped to her feet. 

“I can’t wait all day. She’s not coming. I’m going home.” 

“Shuri she’s only a minute late.” She rushed past him. “I’ll just go. She wouldn’t want to see me. Besides no one’s coming to dinner it’s too-” She was cut off by the honking of a horn as a car pulled up. “It’s her.” Bruno said grabbing an umbrella and rushing out of the door. Shuri froze in the hall eyes wide with regret before rushing back to the living room where she tried to find the best way to present herself to you. She eventually opted for an awkward pose by the sliding doors waiting for you to enter. 

Bruno rushed outside with an umbrella waiting for your driver to let you out of the car. The driver came around laying out a carpet for you, so that you wouldn’t step into the mud. Bruno held out the umbrella as you stepped out.

“This is a beautiful place you have Bruno. Why did I have to come alone? Are you gonna confess your love for me?” He laughs.

“Oh that’s a secret! Tell your driver to go far away!” The two of you laugh. “I’ll call you back James! His name is James.” You say as you both enter the house. Bruno allows you to walk ahead of him. You stop to check your reflection in the hall mirror before heading to the living room. You were stopped in your tracks at the doorway of the living room, your mouth dropping.

“Oh my God! Did you ransack a greenhouse?” You ask walking through touching all of the beautiful flowers. “He is in love with me.” You whisper to yourself. Bruno walks in behind you looking around in confusion. Shuri was nowhere in sight. That’s when he noticed the sliding door had been left slightly ajar. He let out a sigh, and you take off your jacket. Bruno took it from you to hang in the hallway. 

“That’s funny.” He chuckles.

“Wha-“

And there was a knock at the door.

“Give me one second.” He says as He ran to the door. There Shuri stood, now soaking wet.

“What are you doing?” He whisper yelled.

“I can’t do this! This is crazy!”

“Come on Shuri she’s here now! This is what you wanted.” She shook her head turning away.

“I’m leaving.”

“Stop it! You’re acting like a child.” Bruno chastised. Shuri stopped in her tracks. Turning back towards Bruno. She stepped forward, smoothing down her jacket. She charged forward into the house. 

“Is everything ok?” You say, hearing footsteps enter the living room as you stood gazing out of the glass sliding doors. You turned only to be met with the shock of your life. There she stood, in burgundy slacks and a matching jacket with golden flower embellishments, with the shoes that matched to the T. Though she was drenched, she wasn’t any less of the African Goddess you remembered. An ethereal beauty. 

“Shuri?”

“Sthandwa.” Shuri breathed, She felt like her heart would explode as she ogled at your beauty up close for the first time in years. It’d been five years since you’d left her on her knees in her hotel. The years spent alone had not been wasted. She’d matured immensely. Though she was the youngest to have ever ruled Wakanda, it was a well known fact that she was indeed the best. She’d dedicated her life to the well being of her people. And it’d kept her sane. But everyday she awoke feeling like a continuous failure. All because she’d lost you.

Now here you were. 

You wore a simple white dress that fell off of your shoulders. The sleeves were long but sheer. The skirt short but flowing. The sunlight beaming through the glass doors, hit you just right. Casting a glow around your silhouette. One could mistake you for an Angel. You were the first to break the awkward silence. 

“I’m certainly glad to see you again.” Shuri let out a puff of air as though she had been holding her breath. 

“H-hi. I’m certainly glad to see you too.” 

Your eyes slightly water as a smile crept up on your face. In that moment Shuri felt blessed. She’d never thought that she would see your smile directed at her again. Your eyes light up with the sight of her. A sense of relief passed her over as the two of you gazed at the other from across the room. The sound of a tea kettle whistling from the kitchen sounded throughout the house. But the two of you never broke eye contact. 

“Um. That’s the tea. We should head to the dining room before the food gets cold.” Bruno cut into the tension.

“Y-yea that sounds good.” Shuri agreed.

The two of you migrated into the dining room, as Bruno excused himself to the kitchen to grab the tea. Shuri pulled out your chair and you took your seat, as she sat adjacent to you.  The silence remained awkward as you both tried catching glances at the other without each other noticing.

Bruno came and sat the tea in front of the both of you. “The servers will be out with the food in a few. But, I forgot. I have this thing in town.” Shuri’s head snapped up towards Bruno the fear in her eyes apparent. “I know forgetful. But you guys enjoy yourselves I’ll be back as soon as possible.” He said rushing out of the house. Shuri got up quickly following him. “Be right back” she said to you before running behind him. 

“What are you doing?” She asked incredulously. 

“Im leaving the two of you alone. And you’re not going to get anywhere with her talking to me. Go back!”

“This is bad. This is a bad idea. It’s embarrassing!” Shuri said pacing and panicking. Bruno grabbed her shoulders.

“Hey! It’s ok. Y/n‘s inside waiting for you. Go get her.” Shuri swallowed. Giving Bruno a greatful nod. With that she went back inside.

“I’m sorry about that.” Shuri said as she sat next to you. You eye her as she sat.

“It’s fine. I’m guessing you’re nervous.”

“Yes. Yes you could say that.” You laugh softly.

“I have to say I am too. This was very unexpected.” 

“I realize that. I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. I just.. uh.. I really wanted to see you. Congratulate you in person. I’ve never sat next to a nine time Grammy winner before.” The both of you laugh as the atmosphere started to feel a little less heavy. 

“Actually. Im really happy to see you Shuri.” Shuri sat forward a bit looking at you intently.

“I must tell you that your speech meant the world to me.” Your eyes widened.

“You watched?” Shuri broke eye contact. “Uh” Your face scrunches in confusion.

“You were there?” She looked back into your eyes. 

“I couldn’t have imagined missing it. I am so very proud of you. You’ve become one hell of a force, and you would’ve become that with or without me.” Your eyes glistened with tears.

“Thank you.” You whispered reaching for her hand that she slowly placed in yours. The smallest connection sent waves of electricity through the both of you. Today it would go ignored.

“There’s so much I want to share with you Shuri. We have so much to catch up on. I’ve missed you.” A tear fell from Shuri’s eye and she quickly wiped it away. “Yes we do. I’ve missed you too.” The servers began to bring out the food, it was easy to see that it was hand selected by Shuri. Everything she remembered being your favorite was on the menu. The two of you talked and laughed. It was refreshing, the way it had been in the beginning. 

When Bruno returned the two of you had made your way back into the living room with the drinks of your choice. Shuri’s arm was behind you on the couch, her body turned towards you as she listened intently to the words coming out of your mouth. He couldn’t help but smile. The sight was almost nostalgic. 

He cleared his throat, and was ignored. He rattled his keys and still wasn’t acknowledged. So he decided to just announce himself. 

“Heeey! I guess dinner went well?” You stood to your feet smiling. “Dinner was delicious.”

You turned your attention to the sliding glass doors and stepped out onto the porch. Staring out at the water. Shuri followed behind you.

“This is beautiful.. just open breathable air. You can even see the top of the buildings in the city.”

“It is quite beautiful. You have an even better view from my place.” You look at her in confusion. 

“Where is your place?”

Shuri points to the home straight across.

“So you are Sweet Lady.”

She chuckled. “I’d hoped you’d come to the party. But honestly, this was much more rewarding.”

“Well I’d love to have a tour.” Shuri’s heart soared. 

“Of course. Bruno! I’d like for you and y/n to come to my house so I can show her around.”

“Ooooh my-“ You say stepping inside the gates of Shuri’s home, stunned, thunderstruck. You couldn’t believe your eyes. A knot formed in your throat. “Shuri is.. is this-“ Shuri stepped up beside you. Taking in your reaction with an affectionate smile she replied.

“Yes. It is.”

“Our house.” You say, a lone tear fell from your eyes, as you look up at her.

“Our house, Thando.” 

“I-“ was all you could say. Words escaped you. 

“There’s so much to see. Ubusi. She directs you forward holding out her hand, gesturing for you to go ahead of her. Shuri and Bruno grabbed your hands leading you up the steps as you admire the architecture. The doors open to the entrance and your breath was taken as you stepped inside. 

Years ago, at the begining of your relationship you and Shuri designed this home as a game. A fun look into what could’ve been your future. After the two of you had finished you’d fawned over how the two of you meshed so well, and how this would be your dream home. With everything that happened the memory faded into the background. But Ofcourse Shuri’s masterful brain, brought it to life and made it into something you could have never dreamed of. 

Beautiful unique chandeliers, marble floors. The entrance with the most gorgeous tree growing in the center of the room. Shuri walked ahead of you leading you throughout the house. Introducing you to staff. Showing you every intricate and well thought out detail of the estate. 

The gardens were your favorite. There were many. An area to have garden parties. A meditation garden, a butterfly garden. Hell there was even a helicopter landing pad! Back inside, you swooned at the beautiful high ceilings of the living room, and the cat walk that surrounded it.

This was all so overwhelming. You felt like you were inside of a fairytale. You watched Shuri as she strolled leisurely through her home proudly. Her calm regality just fit so perfectly well within the home and you found your heart fluttering at not only the beauty of the home. But hers as well. 

The next area was the bedroom. Covered in marble. Cream, Olive greens, and gold. It was huge. Big as some peoples homes. It had its own living room and a bar area. A mirror sat above the bed that had another one of those gorgeous Chandeliers. The hers and hers closets were gold and grey, behind glass enclosures. Shuri’s closet being perfectly organized and the one meant for you empty. 

“Shuri?” She stopped in her tracks, hearing the tremble of your voice. She turned walking over to you. Bruno excused himself from the room leaving the two of you to talk.

“You don’t like it.” She looked worried. “I’m sorry if-“

“Shuri. I love it. How could I not! I’m just wondering. Why? Why all of this? We’ve been done for years. Why did you build our house?” Shuri was silent for a moment before reaching a hand for you to grab. “Come” You take ahold of her hand and allow her to guide you back into the room and onto the large furnished balcony. She stood behind you and pointed out over the water.

“Do you see that? That faint green light flashing on top of the building in the city. Directly across from us.” You look out, humming as it comes into your line of sight. 

“Yes, I see it.” You reply softly

“Remember the first time I messed up? You made it so difficult. One night I’d set up a picnic for you. Laid out blankets. Hung fairy lights. Had all of your favorites. You still weren’t feeling it.” She chuckled slightly, and you join her. 

“I remember that night well.”

“I told you that you could walk away if you so choosed. But that I’d always be waiting for you. That light is at the top of the building that you live in.” You gasp turning to look at her. “I excepted our fate and gave you your space. But I built this in honor of what we had, before it went bad. In memory of my greatest loss. And when I get overwhelmed and wish to be near you. This is where I come.” You gazed into her watery eyes with bated breath. A shakey breath left your lips before you spoke.

“Are you even real?” A small smile crept onto her face before she once again took your hand. “There is one last thing I’d like to show you.”

“What else could there possibly be Shuri.”

“You’ll see.” 

Shuri led you to another set of grand double doors that she opened for you. And led you down a spiral stair case. As the room came into view, a fresh set of tears fell down your face.

“A ball room.”

“Because can you really be a queen without a ballroom.” You both say recalling the moment you’d told her you’d wanted one.

“It’s official. I’m dreaming.”

“You most certainly are not.” Shuri stood behind you. Gazing at the joy radiating from you.

“Shuri this is… I don’t have words.”

You turn to her with tear stained cheeks and a glint in your eyes. You gave a mischievous smile, “Is there music?”

Shuri smiled. “Hm.” She placed a finger at her temple in faux contemplation. “Jovan!” A young gentleman entered the room onto the balcony where there sat a piano.

“My Queen.” 

“Would you play something for my friend Y/n here?” She looked up, and he gave her a nod before sitting at the piano.

The sound of light haunting piano resounded throughout the room, and Shuri looked toward you asking “May I have this dance.” Your face lights up excepting her offer, and taking her hands for her to lead you to the center of the room. It started off with Shuri’s left hand sitting lightly on your waist as her right intertwined with your left.

“ I've been waiting for something

Something I can't ignore

Maybe someone I've been waiting for

To bring me back to life one more time”

It felt personal. And when you looked up and into Shuri’s eyes you knew…These were her words.

“I've been praying for another chance 

To make me feel again

I've been sitting, reminisicing of a better day

Trying to reawake”

You found your self stepping closer into her. Your arm that had previously been on her shoulder sliding down and around her waist. 

“Coast to coast

I'm doing the most for a second chance

Just to feel again

Baby I try and try a thousand times

And I know why”

Your hand left hers and it joins your other at the small of her back. Your head lay comfortably on her chest as she wrapped you up in her arms as though you were the most precious jewel. Your body almost went into shock at the unfamiliar feeling of safety in her arms. Your lip started to tremble as you feel the vibrations in Shuri’s chest as she began to sing the words.

“When you left me,Oh you left behind every moment” Her hand lightly rubbed up and down your spine, as she rocked you side to side. “Back when you said we, Would grow old on a porch in the golden sun.” Your fist clenched the fabric of Shuri’s jacket, your body shaking with sobs. 

“It's not over

Said it's not over

As I shattered every memory across the floor” She ran her fingers through your locs before placing them behind your ear.

“When you leeeeeeeft” You let out a whimper from the words and pressed your body against hers tighter. That’s when it hit you. The pain in your side a reminder of what you had to go back home too. You flenched and Shuri pulled back.

“Are you ok?” You shook your head.

“No.” Shuri’s faced morph into one of confusion as she searched your eyes.

“W-what happened?” She softly gripped your arm and you flenched once again.

“Y/n-“

“ It’s nothing Shuri. I can’t. I-i can’t. I have to get home. Im sorry. This is too much. It’s just too much.” You took off back up the stairs to find the exit as Shuri called after you.

A choked gasp left your lips, as you lay in the center of your bed. Dress pulled up around your waist and hand inside of your panties. You rubbed quick circles into your clit as she ran marathons through your mind.Your eyes were shut tight and you bit harshly into your bottom lip as the sound of her voice, the light touches of her hand, and the security of her arms sat vividly at the forefront of your brain. Turning your head into your pillow, you bite into it to stifle your moan as you come up on your release. 

“Shuuriiiii…Ahh.” Her name tastes so sweet on the tip of your tongue. Your body trembles in the aftermath, and you let out a deep breath. Coming down from your high. 

“This is ridiculous.” You whisper. It’d been a week and you couldn’t shake her. She’d come back into your life and implanted herself inside of your brain. In the most inconvient of moments your mind would drift to her. Causing a goofy grin to spread across your face. You wanted to be near her. It was like her heart called out to you. 

You glanced at the phone on your night stand. 

“This is only going to cause trouble y/n. Don’t do it.” You spoke aloud to yourself. Unfortunately, it seemed as though you had no self-control when it came to the queen. 

“Fuck it.”

You snatched your phone up and found the number you were looking for. 

“Hey, Hey!” He answered after the second ring. 

“Heeeeyyy best friend in the world! How are you!?” Bruno let out a long sigh.

“Aw hell. What do you want?”

“Is that the way we’re greeting each other now?”

“Y/n/n” 

“Okay, okay. Did um. Do you have Shuri’s contact info by chance?” Your voice comes out light, almost shy making Bruno chuckle. 

“She left Kimoyo beads here for you.” You sit up quickly, a smile ghosting over your lips “I’m on my way.” Hopping off of the bed you run to freshen up, oiling your body, and throwing on a form fitting floral sundress. You call downstairs to have vallet bring around your car and head out of your room. 

“Where are you headed, Uto m (my sweetness)

“Oh Papa! You scared me. Um I was heading to Bruno’s. Dani’s meeting us and where going to do lunch.” 

“Hm.” He looks you up and down “You look good. You have been filled with joy lately my dear. Is it the return of your friend?” He says before wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your neck. 

“I am happy my friend is back. Yes.” You cringe inside but you fake a giggle. Anything to get out of your suffocating house. 

“Hm. You smell like a harlot. All of this for Bruno?

“Stop babe. Don’t be silly. You bought me this perfume, and you know that Bruno is like a brother to me.  You’re gonna make me late. I already called the car up.” He took your ass into his hands squeezing before letting go. “You can go. But remember who you belong to.” You muster a smile. “I only belong to you Papa” You head out of the door with the intention of clearing your pallet by falling back into the arms of Shuri.

Your car barely rolled to a stop before you hopped out. Jogging up to Bruno’s front door begining to knock. 

“I heard you were looking for me.”

Your hand fell to your side and you turn to see Shuri leaning against your car. Eyes stalking your body lingering on your frame. She was casual today in black joggers, a plain white T, and a white Jacket with African patterned fabrics sewn into the sleeves and pockets.

“I figured I’d save you the call.” You heard Bruno’s voice come from behind the door inside of the house. If he was infront of you right now you’d kiss him.

You squirmed underneath her heated gaze. Her stare penetrating you through the form fitting dress.

“Well it seems you wanted to be found.” You say seductively, giving her a stare of your own. One of Shuri’s brows rose her curiosity officially peaked. 

“I’ve been waiting for you”

“So you knew I’d be back?” Shuri picked up on the change in your interaction with her.

“I can’t say that I did. But, I’d hoped that you would.”

“Well here I am.” The sultry tone of your voice caused Shuri’s head to tilt back eyes peering at you through hooded lids. Any other time the sex oozing from your pores would have knocked Shuri to her knees. As of now, there were more pressing matters.

“You look beautiful.” The words came out low and slow, her voice a lower pitch. “Turn for me.” She pulled moisturizer from her pocket, coating her hands before they met infront of her, rubbing together, gapping at you as though you were her prey. Your need to obey your panther was still ingrained deep into the crevices of your brain. So It was second nature for you to throw your waist length locs over your shoulder so that she would have a better look at you from behind while you turned slow, giving her a show. 

“Mm.” She egged on approvingly. When you finally faced her again there was an unreadable expression on her face. A bit of a storm brewing behind her eyes. However, your want for her made you none the wiser.

Her index finger motioned you forward and you happily obliged, wanting nothing more than to fall into her arms, searching for that feeling of safety again. Those hands, those deliciously attractive tattooed hands landed on your shoulders, slowly, achingly, her fingertips trail down to your forearms. Her thumbs began to rub gentle but firm cirles into your arm. Eyes downcast and focused on her task. The evenness of your skin tone began to wipe away as you both watched a bruised cut apear onto your arm.

Your eyes watered, trained on your arm, afraid to look up. You felt Shuri’s glower burning the side of your face, heating your body with fear and embarrassment. 

“P-performance injury’s.” You falsely claim, and Shuri hummed her disdain.

“Uyaxoka (You’re lying), I need to make something exceedingly clear, Bambo'lwami. You and I are both aware that there is not an ignorant bone in my body. Do not insult my intelligence.” A tear fell from your eye, dropping into the smeared make up on your arm.

“I did not call on you for body, Mtuwam. My intentions are not to seduce you, but to show you what you mean to me. So I will not participate in meaningless sexual banter with you, only for you to walk away from me back into the arms of an abuser. You have to know me better than that. Albeit, It’s been a while. But, my knowledge of the woman I love has not wavered. Mamela kum y/n, I’ll try not to jump the gun and allow myself to become irrational before you decide to be honest with me about whatever this is. I will not turn you away. But, I also will not use you at a time when you are vulnerable. You are loved by me completely and wholly.” Tears poured from their sockets as Shuri finally placed you inside of her protective embrace.

Your heart palpitated against your sternum as panick set in. She was calm. Too calm. What was she going to do?

“I feel you panicking Entle. It is true that everything inside of me is giving me the green light to end his life. The same thing that is driving me forward is holding me back.” She pulled away. Looking down into your eyes. “That is you. Say the word and it is handled.” 

“It doesn’t happen that often. Sometimes he just gets-“ Shuri placed a finger on your lips. A smirk that doesn’t reach her eyes settling onto her face.

“Sh. Don’t piss me off. I’m on edge here Y/n. If your not ready for me to handle it. I’d advise you not to speak to me about it. I damn sure don’t want to hear fucking excuses for him.” Her anger escaped its wall for a second before she fought it back inside. “He will be handled mtuwam. I’ll try my best to wait for you to come to terms with that.” She gently placed your head back onto her chest, placing her chin onto the top of your head as she continued to comfort you with her embrace. 

When all was said and done. Shuri stood tearfully in Bruno’s driveway, sending you back into the arms of your abuser.

Time flew by, before you knew it three months had past. Shuri had kept her promise; though she’d made it blaringly obvious that it was one of the most difficult things she’d ever had to do. She’d given you Kimoyo earrings that matched hers in multiple colors, because they were “more discreet than the bracelet”. They were to be on you at all times. Solely for her sanity while you were still with who she called “that man”. She was constantly back and forth between there and Wakanda. Still having duties to take care of, but it was clear that you intermingled with the top of her priorities.  

While in Wakanda, she was constantly checking your location. If she saw you out to dinner or shopping, extra money would appear in the hidden account she’d gotten you. If she was with you in New Rochelle, she would hire brands to bring there latest collections to the house so that you could browse from the comfort of home. Your closet at her home had filled copiously. You didn’t want to take the clothes home, so they stayed there. Being that’s where you spent the majority of your time.

Access to her home was unlimited, an obvious no brainer for her. “You are the architect. It was made for you.” She would say. Her way with words had always made you swoon. So, over three months your husband had heard excuse after excuse for why you were gone early and coming home late. You’d blamed it on your schedule picking up after the wins. Which wasn’t entirely untrue. However, you always had time to be with Shuri.

In the begining, your attraction to your ex came simply from what you already knew her to be. Resplendant, undaunted, and most importantly secure. She’d come with guaranteed saftey. But, now it was so much deeper than that. All in all, it was simply…HER.

She’d grown so much. There was such a patience and maturity to her. An air of calm that was unknown to her former self. She was slow to anger. Quick to contemplate and very solution based. Her walk, a confident saunter that made you weak in the knees when you’d see her coming in the distance. When she spoke, it was matter of fact, direct. She had no time for bullshit. Shuri had always been a hopeless romantic, grand gestures being her thing. However, the lengths she would go were impressive.

She’d take you on random excursions in her helicopter. A day trip out of the country was not uncommon. You’d go back home to your husband with a tan you hadn’t had that morning, and tell him you’d taken up tanning. Your favorite part of her that not many others didn’t get to see, was her sense of humor. She made you laugh from your belly and it felt special to witness. It was as if it was a piece of her that was only for you. Relaxed and completely wound down.

Over time, you watched her work tirelessly and still there was nothing she wouldn’t do for you, and no time she couldn’t make for you. She made that very clear. Shuri in the past few months had turned out to be many things. But, if you had to narrow it all into one simple word. Only one came to mind. 

Sexy.

It was bad. Every move she made turned you into a literal puddle. Her voice in particular made your spine tingle. And you’d be damned if she didn’t always smell edible. You felt like a preteen having your first real crush.

It’d been the longest two weeks you had ever encountered. Shuri had once again been out of the country, and this time you thought you would loose it. This was the longest stretch of time you’d not been in her presence since the two of you had reconnected and you were getting withdrawls. Today, she was due back and you couldn’t get to her fast enough. You threw on a cute tracksuit placing your hair in a high pony, to get ready to rush out of the house to head to her home. 

“FUCK!” You yell, you’d swung your room door open and your sister was on the other side.

“Whoa! Slow down sonic. Where you headed?”

“Damn! You scared the shit out of me. I was headed to the gym.” Your sister looked you over and your outfit matched your story. 

“Cool. Well I’ll join you. I could use a little sweat session. Let me borrow one of your sets and we can head out.”  She pushed past you into the room to head to your closet.

“Dani, I’m working with a trainer.” Danielle glanced over her shoulder.

“And?”

“And this is my alone time.” Dani turned to you fully. 

“Nah what’s up. What’s really happening? You’ve been M.I.A lately we always spend time together and somehow we’ve barely been in touch.” She sat on the edge of your bed. Waiting for a plausible answer.

“I-I just been working. There’s a lot of pressure on me with this new project after winning 9 Grammy’s everyone is expecting perfection.”

“I didn’t know you were even working on a new project?”

“It’s just-“ you were interupted by the flash of your Kimoyo earring against your sisters face and your eyes widened. 

“Bitch did your earring just take a picture of me?” She stood walking back over to you squinting at your ear, and then it hit her. 

She looked over your shoulder and around the room perplexed. 

“I just know damn well that this isn’t what I think it is.”

“What?” You say feigning innocence.

“Those are damn Kimoyo earrings.” 

“N-no-“

“Griot” Your sister announces.

“It’s nice to hear from you again Ms. Danielle.”

Your eyes shifted downward. Caught.

“Check the message y/n. Out loud.” You sigh.

“Griot, please open my messages.”

“Yes Nkosazana, The Queen says she will be in  shortly and has asked me to advise you to meet her in the garden.” Your sister throws her hands up dramatically walking away from you.

“Thank you Griot.” You reply softly.

“You sneaky bitch!” She whisper yells.

“You can stop whispering Mike caught a flight out this morning.”

“Good. YOU SNEAKY WHORE! You’re fucking Shuri!!” 

“Ok you’re doing a lot! And I am not fucking Shuri! We’re just friends.”

“Friends? Friends! On what planet can you be friends with someone who did you the way Shuri did. That’s not a friend!”

“Damnit Dani! Give the woman some grace! What she did was fucked up and it hurt. But it was over years before she proposed and she’d done the work, before word even got out. She’s an even better woman now. So your disdain for her is completely unwarranted. She isn’t that person anymore!”

“I call bullshit!”

“Dani it happened to me! So you should get over it! I have!” Your sister took a deep breath before continuing.

“Little sister I don’t want you to get hurt. You have a damn good man that would never hurt you the way Sh-“

“You don’t know that!” You scream. “You don’t know Shit Dani! Your talking shit but you were at her house sipping cocktails and watching fireworks on Grammy’s night; at a party she threw to celebrate me! In a house that she built in memeory of us!” Confusion took over your sisters face.

“Mike has been mentally, emotionally, and physically abusive for years! And Shuri would have NEVER done THAT! It took Shuri a second to see me and nobody else noticed! She’s kept me out of here and safe, so Mikes abuse has been minimal lately. She hates that I’m staying here. Afaid of the consequences of leaving. But she’s trying her best to be understanding, and takes damn good care of me sis. Such good care….I feel so loved. So protected, and she’s only being a friend.” Tears now poured down you and your sisters face. “So Yea. I’m leaving. And I’m going to go be with Shuri. Because I’m in love with her…You can let yourself out.” You walk out of your house leaving a stunned Dani behind.

Underneath the apple trees, you sat on a bench with your head lying on Shuri’s shoulder.  Munching on the perfectly juicy fruit, surrounded by the beauty of the garden. 

“This is nice.” Your eyes closed taking in the smell of the flowers, the fruit, and the woman. Shuri smiled. “Yes it is.”

“Shuri?” She hummed, signaling you to go ahead.

“My sister knows.” Shuri’s brown raised as she continued overlooking the garden.

“How much?”

“She knows that I’ve been spending my time here, and that you’re Sweet Lady… She also knows about Mike.” Shuri contemplated on your words a moment before she spoke.

“Thwandie?” She speaks softly in that voice you loved so dearly.

“Yes?”

“I’d like to tell you a story.” You lift your head. Eyes connecting with the sharpness of her jaw, and her handsomely gorgeous side profile. “Ok?”

“A few years ago, There was a young queen, who lost her heart. After she lost her, she felt as since of finality. A vast emptiness that scared her to her core. And as she tried to give her Princess space. Time to sit with the betrayal of the queen. That emptiness penetrated her deeply. It drove her insane.” Shuri took a deep breath and you lay unmoving on her strong shoulder as her arm found your waist. 

“So one day, she couldn’t take it anymore. She showed up to the princess’s home and she begged her forgiveness. Not for the well being of her love. Purely to mend her own brokenness caused by her own poor decision making. Needless to say the door was slammed in her face. Rightfully so. But the self righteous queen continued to bang and beg. Pleading with the princess to help her. All to no avail. So the queen placed her back to the door sitting, quietly crying. Woe is me. Until a few minutes passed and suddenly this wail comes from inside the house. Right on the otherside of the door. It was heartbreaking. Full of a deep ache. A soul wound. So she sat silently crying against the door, as her heart sobbed trying to cleanse herself of the wound the woman she’d trusted had given her.”

A solemn tear fell down your cheek, moans escaping your lips through the suppressed sound of hiccups. Shuri continued her own voice shaking as she held back tears of her own.

“I was still there. I heard it. Every body racking sob you let out. That sound etched itself in my mind for years. I got my shit together y/n. I sat and I tortured myself with the sound of the hurt I cause you. And I got up. And I got my shit together, and dedicated my life to being the type of woman who would’ve made you a proud wife. Because that’s what you deserve. That is what you have always deserved.” Tears welled from deep inside and coursed down her cheeks. “You said I inspired you. But you are THE reason. The reason for every move I make baby girl. The reason I learned to pray.” A sob escaped your lips as you turned looking out over the lake. Shuri shed tears of her own as she watched you. The sun was begining to set. Casting a beautiful light over your silhouette.

“I don’t know why you’re choosing to stay there with him. But, I’m ESTATIC that Dani knows. Because now I am sure that it will be short lived. I know it won’t be for me. But please… Leave him. I just want to see you happy.” Her eyes peirced into yours thoughtfully. You gaze back into her eyes, Your feelings beginning to bubble up ready to explode from your lips. 

“Shuri I-“

“Panther, M’Baku is trying to reach you.” 

“I apologize. I must take this.” 

“Ofcourse, I’m gonna go inside. The guys are coming over for a session I should get to the studio.” 

“Ok. I’ll be in shortly.” You smile and nod, turning to walk away, heart still racing from what had almost been said.

You stepped into the booth, befuddled by  Shuri’s words in the garden. You’d wanted so bad to let her know that she owned your heart. That and so many other parts of you. Every part. She had been the insperation behind your pen, Making words flow from you like a river. You’d pushed out soo many songs to use in the past few months, just dreaming of her being yours again. Now here you stood in her home studio, prepared to bring them to life. Bruno sat behind the sound board with your producer Leon, when the doors to the studio opened.

Shuri swaggered into the room with enough posh to bring you to your knees. She had changed from her more formal wear that she wore in the garden. Opting for purple joggers with a black button up jersey that had Wakanda written across the back in gold and purple gradient letters. A matching cap sat low over her eyes as she walked through dapping up all of the guys. Freshly showered it’d seemed. 

She sat on the leather couch directly in your line of sight, and your heart dropped into your stomach. Her smile brightened the dimmed room as she acknowledged you. Arms sitting over on the back of the couch as she man spread underneath the spotlight that was meant to highlight the art on the wall. Now there sat a much more interesting piece beneath it.

“You ready to run this one all the way through?” Leon asked. You tried peeling your eyes away from Shuri, it was as though her presence cast a spell over you. Your fingers graze against the fretboard of your guitar and you build up enough strength to nod signaling them to start. They start the countdown. And the music began.

“You got meee

You've got meeee

You've got meee

You got me speeeeechleeeess”

Your guitar sang, piercing throughout room to reach the woman you loved. 

“Where you been, baby?” Shuri laid her head back against the couch. Her eyes peering at you from underneath her cap.

“My heart starts trembling 

As I hear your footsteps pace”

At this point, everyone else had faded. There was only you and Shuri.

“Goin' out my head I think I'm losin' all my mind 

Drive me crazy burning candles, makin' love all night 

Feels so strange, it feels so crazy to be in your world 

In your arms lost for words, you got me”

You put every ounce of passion you had for Shuri into the song. Her bottom lip was now trapped between her teeth only amplifying your lust for her. 

“Layin' so closely 

I feel your skin rubbin' and touchin' me 

Only sweat between us 

Feelin' you kissin' and pleasin' me” 

Shuri began to involuntarily squeeze the cushions of the couch. Your words and voice coursing through her veins. She was now inside of your mind. Visualizing every word that came out of your beautiful mouth.

“I rub your back 

I kiss your neck 

I know that you love when we touch like that 

I can feel you need me 

Feels so good to me 

Feels so good to meeeeeee”

The tension was thick in the room. Shuri was hypnotized and you couldn’t take your eyes off of her. Wanting to see every bit of her reaction to you. The song gets more intense, your pretty breathy voice igniting a fire inside of Shuri.

“You got me 

You got meEeEee

You got meeeee

You got meee”

Your eyes open staring straight into Shuri’s.

“Speechless”

You go into another guitar solo. Your eyes shut tight as your fingers worked the strings with proficiency. 

“all I can say is 

Yeees 

Yeeess

YEEESSSS, all I can say is 

YEeEessss

YeeeEEESS

YEEEEAHHH, OOH!”

Your eyes opened and Shuri now sat on the edge of her seat. The look on her face undoubtedly lust. 

“Kiss me 

Hold mee

You've got me 

SSSpeechleeess”

The song ended and silence penetrated the room. Your eyes finally dropped away from Shuri’s. 

“I think we got it.” You say breaking the silence. 

“Yea.”

“That’s definietly it.”

“I don’t see it getting any better than that.”

Agreement scattered throughout the room. Shuri silently sat back on the sofa, her eyes never leaving you.

The rest of the night was spent perfecting and mixing the song. Discussing music for other projects, and bullshitting. You all smoke, drank, ate, and caught up. The tension however never left between you and Shuri. It was thick in the air and everyone felt it. The subtle glances. The avoidance of touching or being near eachother.

Everyone started packing up to leave one by one, until it was only you and Shuri left. 

“Bye love, I’ll come by tomorrow.” You say to Bruno as you shut the door to the studio behind him. Turning to Shuri who stood leaning against the mixing board. You cleared your throat.

“I guess I should be getting ready to head home.” Shuri nodded. 

“Yea. That’s probably a good idea.” 

“Probably so.” You agree, as you began to gather your things.

“If that’s what you want.” You hear Shuri say. It stopped you in your tracks. “It is pretty late.” She says fiddling with the rings on her fingers.

“Shuri.”

“Yea?” She finally looks up from her hands.

“I don’t want to go home.” 

“Then stay.”

“I’m gonna take a shower it’s been a pretty long day.” you announce as the two of you enter Shuri’s bedroom.

“Yea go ahead. Help yourself.” Though you were often at Shuri’s home, had a closet full of clothes, and her fridge was stocked with foods you loved. You had never spent the night. Always choosing to go home for the sake of discretion. But, tonight Mike was gone and with Shuri was were you wanted to be.

Shuri took off her shoes and unbuttoned her shirt, getting comfortable while you took your shower. She headed to her bar area fixing a drink before taking a seat in one of the plush chairs in the seating area of her bedroom, and turning on soft music. The soft warm lighting highlighted her toned stomach. Glistening against the simple gold chain around her neck as she leaned back, sinking deeper into the comfort of the chair trying to figure out what she was doing. This was dangerous. The two of you were playing with fire, and Shuri didn’t know how much longer she would be able to hold out. It was becoming apparent that the feelings the two of you had for each other were bubbling over. It was getting harder for this friend charade to last. 

She’d dreamed of the day that she could call you hers again. Nevertheless, this time she wanted to do this right. Questions flooded her mind. If the two of you crossed that line, how would you feel about her afterward? Would you regret it and run off? She didn’t want to ruin the progress that had been made with you. She could be totally misreading the signs. Shaking her head she took a sip of her drink, rings clinking against the glass. Sitting it on the side table, her finger circled the rim as she remained in deep thought.

The click of the door to the bathroom grabbed Shuri’s attention. You stepped out of the fog. A black lacy lingerie set with a robe to match decorating your frame. A diamond garter sat high on your thick thigh. Strappy stilettos graced your pretty feet as the smell of your fresh scent permeated the air. You strutted further into the room with all the grace of a super model. Shuri raised a brow as she looked to both sides of her, to be sure she wasn’t dreaming or on a trip. Her mouth sat slightly ajar as her eyes settled back onto you. 

Your walk had always been unmatched to Shuri; the sway of your curves was genuinely hypnotic. You approached the table infront of her with your alluring stride, stepping up onto the golden table, your pretty toned, gartered thigh peaked out from under the robe. Your fingers brushed against the pretty pendants that dangled from the chandelier, your eyes interlocking with Shuri’s.

“These chandeliers.. they’re made from vibranium? Yes?” You inquired seductively.

The rise and fall of Shuri’s chest was steady through the sports bra she wore under her opened shirt. Her heart pounding hard against her chest. She placed her drink against her lips  again taking a light sip, before nodding her answer.

You smile. “Good.” You pulled the tie of the robe from around your waist allowing it to fall open. You began to tie the strap to the bar inside of the Chandelier as you spoke, finally pouring your heart to Shuri. 

”You know Shuri. I wrote that song with you on my mind. I hope you felt that. Lately, all I seem to do is think of you. The smell of your cologne, the sound of your voice, the way you talk. You told me a while back that you wanted all of me, not only my body. Baby I’m ready to give myself to you. All of me. Because you deserve it.” You pur. 

“Y/n I-“ Shuri tried interupting, but you cut her off. “Shhhh. Let me talk, beautiful.” you placed a finger against your lips and Shuri obeyed.

“You treat me so fucking good Shuri. I can’t help the way my body reacts to you. The woman that you are. So strong, powerful, and yet you’re still so gentle and patient with me.” You close your eyes letting out a low moan. “Shuri. Shuri. Shuri. Just your name is enough to make my body tingle. It’s written all over me. All over her.” You grab onto the tie that now hang taught from the chandelier with one hand and your other made a trail down your body and stopped over top of your mound. “All over my kitty kat.” Your body trembled as your hand ran over your clit. Your eyes open, connecting with Shuri who was salivating. 

She had leaned forward her elbows on her knees with her drink dangling from the tips of her fingers. Her bottom lip was relaxed slightly seperated from her top, wet from her recently running her tongue over top of it. 

“Shuri, baby. You give so much. Work so hard. What I want to know is, who takes care of you?” You finally took full hold of the Chandelier and let your body hang, opening your legs wide for the Queen. “I can do that for you daddy. I’d do anything for you.” You began moving your body to the music as you hung from the Chandlier, showing off like an acrobat. Leaving Shuri In a daze “Will you let me?” Shuri let out a staggered breath. 

“Fuck.” Her voice was shakey. Her tongue once again ran slowly over her lower lip as she sat back in her chair placing her drink back on the table next to her. Moment by Victoria Monet began to play as you spun from the glistening beauty above you. Shuri was too stunned to speak as your body spun, streched, rolled and grind to the sexy song. If she was dreaming. Bast did she never want to wake up. 

“BhaBha, are you sure you want to do this?” Shuri finally found words.

“I’ll show you.” Every coherent thought that Shuri had been thinking before exited her mind as you dropped onto the table in a split. Removing the robe from your shoulders. You move out of the split onto all fours. Crawling over and placing yourself inbetween Shuri’s spread legs. You place your hands onto her knees and slowly make your way up the inside of her thighs, fingertips brushing against her womanhood before making up your way up to her beautifully toned stomach. You lean forward and kiss right above her naval. Her stomach tensed from the contact and she let out a muted groan. 

“Mm. My Queen. Do you know your power?” You continue laying sloppy kisses on her abs. “Do you see yourself?” She hisses throwing her head back against the chair, closing her eyes tight as her core began to throb. She gripped the arms of the chair. “Ahhh shhhit” She moaned.

You climb into her lap, kissing up her neck. “You’re tense baby. Have you been neglected?”

“E-entle, I-I can’t. We s-said we’d do this the r-right way.” Shuri tried to stand strong on her word, but you would always be her weakness. You bit right underneath her jaw before giving it a peck to ease the pain. 

“Touch me Sweet Lady” you moaned. “Please. I need it.” As if commanded by the sound of your voice both of her hands rose slowly from the arms of the chair, gripping the meat of your ass. The both of you moan out as if you’d waited a life for that exact moment. Shuri gently nudged the side of your head with her chin as you were busy sucking on her neck. The sexiest of bedroom eyes fell on you. 

Trailing your face down to your lips. You took your the hint, leaning in you exchanged breaths before you gave her your mouth. Sharing your first kiss in five years. You pressed into her gripping her shirt. You basked in the feel of he tounge gliding against yours. The walls crumbled. Any doubts about going further going with them. It started off slow and loving. Pecking eachothers lips softly. Slowly the Intensity built with the desire that had grown inside the both of you for months. It became a wet, sloppy, lusty display of affection. 

A groan fell from Shuri’s lips. Pulling away from you looking into those beautiful brown orbs. 

“I’ve lost restraint ubusi. It....it's..um... been a long time.” You pull back a bit searching her eyes. Yours grew in shock as you reached the realization of what she meant.

“Shuri? Have you not..Have you not had sex since we broke up?”

She buried her head into you, a bit embarrassed to say.

“I-I Uh…we… I couldn’t.” She whispered. You felt your core pulsate. Knowing that this gorgeous woman who could have had anyone in the world at her disposal waited for you. It made you want to give her the world. You wanted to please her in every possible way. She belonged to you. And you belonged to her. 

You grabbed ahold of her hands. Intertwining them in yours and placing a sweet kiss to her soft lips. You take one of her hands placing it over your breast. You take the other and place it on your clothed pussy.

“Don’t worry baby. It’s just like riding a bike. I know you still got it.” Shuri’s hand rubbed slowly against your pussy, her other hand squeezing your breast. She left open mouthed kisses all over the exposed skin of your chest, trembling at the feel of you. Your wetness coating her fingers through your panties. Your body was so hot you felt as though you would scorch her lips. Pulling down the lace of your bra, she freed your breast out of its confinement, before flicking her tongue over your nipple. She then began to suckle, moaning at the taste of your skin on her lips again. You roll your hips into her hand. And gripped the back of her neck, head rolling back.

“Oh yes. Just like that. You got it baby.”  You moan.

“You sound so fucking pretty like this.” Shuri whispered as she gave your other nipple some attention. The sound of her voice mixed with the sensation of her mouth on you and her fingers pressing against your clit made your vision blur.

“Fuck..we’re really doing this.” Her eyes were glassed over, trained on the whine of your waist. “We’re d-doing this Shuri. I need you. N-need you to make me feel good”

Her eyes shut tight. A groan of desperation reverberating from her throat. She bit into your nipple and your head lolled back letting out a whine.

“Demethi.” She whispered

Suddeny she was up on her feet with you settled easily in her strong grasp. She carried you the short distance, to a cushioned bench laying you gently onto your back. She stood above you, her sweats dipping low on her hips. The muscles from her hips and pelvic region making a perfect V. You moan at the sight of the African Goddess.

My God, this woman is in love with me? 

You thought to yourself as her hooded eyes stared down at you in admiration. The sight of you must have been erotic. Your breast pulled over the top of your bra, legs spread wide as your fat wet pussy soaked through your panties. As diamonds twinkled against your thigh. 

“Ubuhle bakho bundigqiba amazwi (Your beauty renders me speechless)” 

“Shuri Please baby. I need you. Let me show you how I feel for you.” 

“Patience Phakade lam(My forever). I want to take my time beauty. I’ve waited so long for you to be back in my arms. Let me take my time.” 

She settles herself between your legs, lifting your right leg placing a kiss against the jewlery on your ankle. She kissed, sucked, and licked  down to the garter on your thigh, before biting into the thickness beneath it. Unable to resist. She grasped the garter with her teeth pulling it down your leg maintaining eye contact. Once she got it over your heeled foot she sat up straight dropping it from her mouth. She repeated the same actions on your ungartered leg, except she made her way all the way up to the crotch of your panties. Nuzzling her nose into you. Taking in your smell. You grind your pussy against her face

“Baby please she’s aching. I need you so bad.”

“Turn for me.” You eagerly sit up making a show of turning over onto your stomach for her. You lay flat, and she grabs your hips pulling your ass up, making you arch your back for her. You spread open wide for her and bounced each ass cheek seperatly. Showing off. 

“Bast, so beautiful” She leaned down, pulling the string of the thong and setting it to the side of your ass cheek and spread you wide open. 

“I’ve missed you sphalaphala sam (my pretty one)”

Your hips began to rotate in anticipation. She placed her face between the cheeks of your ass and placed a lick to your needy cunt. 

“YES!” You yell, eager for her mouth on you. You go deeper into your arch. 

“Ooohh that’s what you want pretty girl?”

“Fuck yes Shuri. Please!”

Shuri lapped at your pussy a few more times before taking all of it into her mouth. She moaned at the taste of your wetness as she gripped each side of your thighs, spreading you unforgivingly. Your moans were trapped in your throat as a tear rolled down your cheek. Yes! It was finally happening. You threw your ass back against Shuri’s face as she opened wide, sticking out her deliciously long tongue. Placing it inside of your hole. She fucked you with her tongue as your ass slapped against her face. 

“Mmm. Smother me sthandwa.” She moaned into your pussy.

“Oh my God Shuri. Eat this pussy! Eat it. You better eat this shit! Just like that.! Yeeeessss!” Your praises landed on Shuri’s ears and sent signals directly to her swollen thick clit. She straddled the bench, getting comfortable as she cleaned her plate involuntarily grinding into the seat beneath her.

Her body quivered from the sounds coming from your mouth mixed with the squelching of your cunt. Fuck was she going to cum untouched.

“Uhn, uhn! Shuri! Oh Shuri! I’m gonna cum.”

“Let it go baby! Drown me! Cum on my fucking face!” On command your thighs began to shake and Shuri pressed your ass into her face taking hold to your clit trapping it between her lips. 

“I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m cuuuummiiiiiinng!” You scream as Shuri held you against her as your body convulsed. Trying to fall flat against the bench. Shuri felt herself on the cusp of her own release and quickly removed herself from the bench. Face drenched in your nectar. 

“Stay arched for Nkosazana. Please.” The sexiest groan left her lips. “I need to cum.”

You felt her hips grinding into you desperately from behind, She remained fully clothed much to your dismay. You felt her heavy breath against your neck and you panted along with her. Feeling high from her touch.

She pressed herself up against you. Running her hand up your spine she unclasped your bra with expertise. As she continued rolling her hips. Bending over she began placing kisses along your spine. Her hot breath making your body shiver. She made it up to your collar bones wrapping her arms around you gripping at your breast. She planted sloppy kisses on the back of your neck. Grunting as she grinded making your clit jump aching for her to touch you again

“Shuri baby?”

“Hm.” She groaned as she continued to kiss you.

“Use me. Please use me baby. Make yourself cum on me. Take what you need.”

Without hesitation, Shuri sat up on her knees not bothering to stand to take off her pants and boxers. She pulled them just below her ass and placed her thick swollen clit onto your ass grinding against it as you pressed yourself into her. “AhOooh. Oh Bast.” She moaned deep as her body jerked on contact, her clit sensitive and aching for release. She began thrusting into you with fervor. Face scrunched biting hard into her lip as she selfishly cosintrated on her release.

You reach between your thighs rubbing circles into your clit as Shuri ground her pussy into you. 

“Oh Fuck Shuri! You like how that feels daddy. You like how this thick ass feels against that big clit daddy.” 

“Fuck. Yes! Yes y/n don’t stop. Ah! Keep g-grinding that shit for me uuhhnnn r-right there. Oouu you feel sooo good.” She wound her waist behind you.

“Oouuu Panther, Never. I’ll never stop! I love it when you use me!” 

Shuri gripped the back of your thong with both hands using it as leverage to press you further into her as she leaned her torso back slightly watching you work against her. Her head lulled back, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. You could her breathing start to pick up behind you as she began thrusting against you. You arched harder and she gripped the flesh of your ass hard. You knew it would surely leave bruises. She let go of you with one hand getting one of her pants legs off with the other to get a better angle against her clit. She began to spread you open as she concentrated on her nut. That’s when her engorged clit slipped into your folds. Your hungry hole sucking her in. Both of your mouths fell open at the sensation. Shuri’s thrust got impossibly faster as your pussy clenched onto her clit doing kegals. 

A moan attempted to escape Shuri’s lips but it only came out in choked gasps.

“Pretty girl. T-take it eaaaasy on me!” You were insatiable feeling Shuri inside you. Teasing your hole as you rubbed your clit ferociously. It was like nothing either of you had ever experienced before. 

“I want to feel it! I want to feel your pussy cum inside me!”

Shuri felt the pressure building and she could no longer hold it. She reached forward grabbing your locs, bending over to get her clit as deep inside of you as possible.

“You’re s-so fucking nasty. It’s so u-unladylike Entle.”

“I don’t want to be a lady. I want to be your dirty little slut. The Queens whore.” You spit back at Shuri. She let out a low growl, grabbing your hips, slapping her own against yours, fucking into you hard. 

“Bast! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! G-Grip me! Bhaby grip me! I wanna fill that pussy.”

“Yes Shuri yes! Explode in this pussy!”

An animalistic howl left Shuri’s mouth, the sound triggering your own release.“Uuuuuhhhnnn.” She pulled your body up completely by your hair. Pressing you against her. Her hips stuttering and body shaking as she released years worth of cum onto your waiting ass. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.” She mumbled as you continue rubbing your ass against her, wanting to milk her of all her essence. She burried her head into your neck. Still quivering from her release. Both of you collapse onto the bench.

“You Definietly still got it Shuri.” You say breathlessly. You both laugh.

“The Queens whore huh? Oh Thando. You’re in for a long night.” Shuri says. You turn your head around, capturing her lips in a kiss. 

“You waited for me. I have all night tonight and every other night after. Just tell me what you want. Now, I want to taste your cum.” 

Shuri rose to her knees and you turned to face her straddling the bench. You came face to face with Shuri’s pretty brown soaked pussy. 

“So beautiful.” 

You smiled having missed the sight of her thick clit that  jutted out from her pussy lips. You give it a lick and her body jolts. Still sensitive from her orgasam. You give it a few more licks before immersing it with your mouth. Sucking it up and down as if giving her a blow job. Shuri wrapped your locs up in her hand as she gently thrust herself into your mouth.

“Oooh baaaaby.” She groaned. “Just like that. Good fucking job.”

You moan at her taste and encouragement. Your hands travel up her legs caressing her hamstrings. One of your hands continued up finding its way between her thighs. Your middle finger finding its way to her tight hole. 

“Shit. Mtuwam fuck me. Ahh!” It came out in a blissed out whisper as she continued to control the movements of your head.

“Mm, so needy” you moan into her aching twat. Shuri’s eyes were closed her mouth ajar concentrating on the pleasure you were giving her. You watched her abs contract with each thrust as your other hand found it’s way back between your legs. Shuri’s breathing sync’s with her thrust and you knew she was close again. Slurping at her bud you add another finger going a bit faster. Her legs began to tremble and you got ready to drink her sweet nectar. 

“Yes that’s right give me another one Panther. Bless my mouth. You deserve it.” you whined.

“It’s coming baby! Catch it for me!” You opened your mouth wide and flicked your tongue over her clit. 

“Uuuhhh it’s coming baby! It’s -“ Grabbing the back of your head she pressed you into her and her juices splashed onto your tongue and all over your face as you fucked her through it. 

“Ugh it so good! Soso good!” Shuri screams as she let go again. You continue lapping at her getting her all cleaned up. Once she caught her breath she released you from her core. Bending down to place her lips on yours.

“Thank you so much for pulling that out of me. I needed that. Now daddy’s going take over pretty girl.” She smirked. Your core clenched around nothing anticipating Shuri’s next move. 

She motioned you closer to her with her head wanting nothing more than to please the panther, you obeyed. She grabbed your arms wrapping them around her neck, and stood from the bench. Gripping underneath your thighs, wrapping your legs around her waist, she finally shook the other pants leg from her leg and carried you over to the bed. She tapped your ass twice signaling you to stand on the bed, motioning to the chandelier that hung from the mirrored ceiling. You smirked jumping slightly to grasp onto the bar inside. 

“Show me how wide you can open up for me.”  She said as she removed her shirt and sports bra. Finally standing before you completely naked. You spread wide open for her. Revealing your bare and soaking wet cunt. 

“Stay just like that for me.” She pulled up her camera on her Kimoyo beads. “You don’t mind if I take pictures do you?” She stood back watching you. “You just look so beautifully erotic.” Her sensual gaze caused your core to pulse, and you spread wider for her camera.

“Mmm, that’s my girl. Look at how fucking wet you are. Hanging from my pretty Chandelier.” She saunters over to you closer placing her thumb onto your clit. You hiss. 

“This shit is innovative sthandwa. I love your mind.” She said as she rubbed her thumb up and down your sensitive bud. “Let’s play a game. How much longer can you hold on while I taste you? Hm?” She stepped forward placing a kiss directly to your clit. You moan thrusting your pelvis forward chasing her mouth. 

“Oouu look at you. You needed daddy’s mouth?” She didn’t waste anymore time. She dove in with an open mouthed kiss right to your core. You placed your thighs on her shoulders grinding into her face as you literally hang from the ceiling. 

“Oh God! I missed that fucking tongue daddy!” You threw your head back watching the scene play out on the ceiling. She went between sucking your clit and fucking you with her tongue hands free. 

“You taste *slurp* so fucking *slurp* good *pop*” She slapped your ass hard. The stinging pain mixing perfectly with the pleasure she gave.

“Mmm. It’s so good! You’re the fucking best!.”

The longer she went, the more your body began to tense and shake. Concentrating on holding on becoming an after thought along with your hands becoming sweaty. Your hands slipped and Shuri’s panther reflexes came in handy. She caught you by the ass, both of you landing roughly onto the bed. Shuri didn’t miss a beat. Your legs started to close as you got closer to your peak. Shuri slapped the inside of your thigh.

“Be a good girl. Keep them open for me.”

She carressed your thighs as she enjoyed her meal. You spread them wider and she rewarded you with those beautiful long fingers. Pumping in and out of your pulsating hole. 

You look down, watching her long tongue circle your clit, before disappearing inside of you. Her eyes closed savouring your taste as she made your body feel better than it had in years. 

“You feel s-so good Shuri. Ssss so good.”

Shuri curved her fingers hitting your spot, she opened her mouth wide using her entire tongue to place over the entire length of your clit pressing against it putting the perfect amount of pressure. Moving her head up and down. She looked up at you as she worshipped your pussy. Your back arched pressing against her more. Your legs began to shake. Your hands reach between your legs and to the top of Shuri’s head. Her movements became short and choppy knowing you were close. 

“Give it to me gorgeous. I’m thirsty.” She demanded.

You gasp. Pressing her further into you as your body began to quake. “Mmmm baby baby baby!” You shout over and over, gasping for air as you cream heavily onto Shuri’s face. 

“Mmhmm, mhmm, Let it out.” She pulled back after you stop shaking taking a look at her work. Watching the cream leak from you. 

“I missed you pretty girl.” She spoke into your pussy nudging it with her nose before diving back in to clean her up. “Thank you for keeping me hydrated mama.”

She kissed up your body now hovering over you. “And thank you for letting me taste her again. I promise she’ll never want for a thing.”

Your juices sat on Shuri’s face, dripping from her chin. Her eyes, blown and focused. You opened your mouth and she smiled, opening her own and sticking out her tongue. You lift up sucking your juices from her tongue, and cleaning her face with your own. She lay between your legs grinding up against you as the two of you share your juices in a kiss. 

“I need to fuck you now baby. Can you give me more. I want to make you cum all night.” Her breath against your ear sent tingles down your spine and there was nothing you wouldn’t do for her in that moment.

“Please. Please fuck me.” Before you knew it Shuri had plucked one of her Kimoyo beads from her bracelet, placing it against her twat. She tapped it and it expanded into her wide curved strap. She places one of your legs on her shoulder slowly entering you with a groan.

“Ohhh Shuriiiiii”

She enters you in one smooth push, making you gasp like a virgin on her first time. Lovingly, she looks into your eyes, and begins to fuck you into oblivion. She knows... instinctively knows...what you need. She whispers into your ear, "Ooooh y/n…...I'm going to cum in your pussy.” The notion fills you.  All you want is her cum. At this moment she could talk you into having her baby.

“I missed this. Uhn, being inside of you. The f-feeling of you g-gripping me. So wet, so fucking  tight.”

She rolled her hips one of your legs on her shoulder the other around her waist. Tears began running down your cheeks. Speechless. Your pussy was so sensitive. Shuri kissed the tears from your cheeks as she continued to thrust inside of you. Your moans of pleasure her motivation.

“So pretty, such a pretty pretty sound. The prettiest song you’ve ever made.”

Her thrust started to speed up. “I want more of it.” She took the leg from around her waist placing it on her other shoulder and sat up on her knees. She was completely in control, as she gripped your hips bouncing you on her dick allowing deep penetration. You moan salaciously "Fuck me....fuck me deeper!" She pounds you banging hard into you. You were so out of it in your pleasure that you hadn’t noticed Shuri moving you two up the bed until your back hit the headboard. 

“Damnit Shuri I c-can’t! I c-can’t take it! Too gooooood! Sooo deep!” Her thrust made your words staccato as you did your best to fuck back into her. 

“Yes you can. You’re taking this shit baby. Taking me so well.” One of her arms was straight out holding onto the headboard as her other assisted in bouncing you into her. 

“Shuriiiiiii!!!” You yell as the pleasure became overwhelming. This caused her to press into you deeper pausing to feel your pussy squeezing against her. She slowed down. Choosing slow hard strokes, so you could feel all of her. You were full out crying now. A delirious mess.

“That’s right baby cry for me. The only tears I want to see. This pussy is mine now. Nobody else can have my pussy..”

You tried to reply but it only came out as gibberish. “I want to hear you baby. Who’s pussy is this?” You gather up strength to reply.

“YOURS PANTHER!!” She gives another slow and hard stroke. “What’s my name?!” Your head fell to her shoulder as tears continued to pour. “Uuuggghhh.” Your moan came out in a gurgle.”

Shuri’s hand that had been on the wall was now around your throat. “Uhuh. I asked you a question. What’s. My. Fucking. Name?” She punctuated each word with a thrust. 

“AhhhUuuuhhhhnn!” You screamed. “SHURI!!”

“All of it b-baby! Say your wife’s name.”

“AAAAAja-A-A Adanna SSSShuri FUCKING UDAKUUU!”

“That’s a g-good f-fucking girl.” She praises against your lips.

Dazed and fucked out you began to speak gibberish. Spewing out whatever came to mind and Shuri replied the two of your foreheads pressed together lips ghosting over one another’s, as the two of you reached your peaks.

“I don’t ever wanna leave.”

“You don’t have too”

“I wanna have your b-babies”

“We can have as many as you want.”

“You fuck me so good”

“I’ll fuck you like this everyday for the rest of our lives”

“Uhn God your so sexy”

“And I’m all yours Entle.”

“Ooouuuu I’m cuuuummmmiinnng.”

You feel her body stiffen and know she will cum too. Finally she groans, "Oh y/n....I'm cumming with you!" Deep inside, you feel the cum shooting into you, and it tips you over the edge. You cum savagely, squirting onto Shuri’s strap, and your world shattered into bright shards of light and colour. Shuri had captured your mouth as the two of you came both of your moans and groans of pleasure shooting down eachothers throats. Shuri’s hips continued to stutter inside of you as she gave slow less powerful thrust. Your head lolled down onto her shoulder, as the two of you slide down the head board.

Your body was spent and you were dozing. You hadn’t been fucked that good since you and Shuri broke up. Just quick sessions of huffs and puffs until Mike got his. Leaving you to fend for yourself. She fucked you so good you could suck your thumb. 

“Sthandwa, let me hear you.” Shuri said after a moment of recuperation. All you could manage was a hum. Her hand came to the top of your head massaging your scalp as you lay on top of her body.

“Uthando Iwami lungangolwandle. Impilo yami ngeke ibe lutho ngaphandle kwakho, Ndiyakuthanda.” (My love for you is greater than the ocean. My life is nothing without you. I love you)

“I love you too Shuri. My dear Aja-Adana.” Shuri lifted her head kissing your forehead.

“Thando?”

“Hm.”

“Can you give me one more?” Your body was screaming at you. Bone achingly tired, and your pussy was at capacity. But you wanted nothing more than to continue making love to Shuri. So you rolled over onto your back and spread your legs for her. She sat up, looking down at you as if you were the worlds most precious gift. 

“Awusemhle (You’re beautiful)” Your tired eyes looked up into hers that had glazed over. She bent down placing a kiss to your tired sloppy cunt, and you jerk at how sensitive you are. She gave loving licks to your pussy. Doing her best to ease the ach before getting your last orgasam from you. 

“One second.” She got up and headed to the closet. When she came back she held in her hand a double sided dildo. “Can you take it mtuwam?” You didn’t know. But you were definitely going to try. You held out your hand to her and she placed the toy inside. You lubricated the toy with your mouth and slowly inserted it into your aching hole.

Shuri’s eyes lowered as she watched you pump it slowly in and out. She crawled over to you, and sat legs open wide. She pulled you closer to her by the backs of your knees, and placed your legs over top of hers, inserting her end of the dildo.

“Ahhhhh” you both let out satisfied moans as the two you began moving your hips, your clits kissing as you meet in the middle. Shuri wrapped her arms around your waist, and you wrapped your arms around her neck. Moans and groans resounded throughout the room over the music that was now Victoria and Kehlani crooning about wanting to be touched. You could relate. Hands probing and carressing every inch of eachothers body as you bounced against Shuri’s lap. Your bodies dripped with sweat, intertwined, moving against eachother like well oiled machines. You leaned back so that she could get a better view of your beautiful breast bouncing. She leaned forward catching one in her mouth, bitting into your nipple and then running her tounge in a circle around it before sucking, and repeating with the other one. 

She pulled you up placing her head in the crook of your neck. Biting licking and sucking. At some point it all stopped and the two of you could only focus on the feel of eachothers bodies this close to eachother again. You had found your way back into eachothers arms. When Shuri pulled back, you both recognized the stain of tears streaming down eachothers cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry I ever hurt you.” She choked out with a sob. Your hands cupped the back of her neck as you brought your foreheads together. “Thank you baby. Thank you for giving me another chance. I promise you won’t regret it.”

“I know Shuri. I know.“ Shuri’s hips began to move faster in a circular motion. Sighing, moaning, and crying the two of you were experiencing a pleasure neither of you had felt before. It was otherworldly. Your lips ghosted over eachothers breath combining as you made love. 

“Bast. You feel so good. I don’t ever want to loose you y/n. Be mine again. Please baby. L-let me call y-you mine. Shit!”

“Aaahh! I’m already yours Shuri. I belong to you.” Shuri’s pussy squeezed the dildo and she took control. Fucking you harder. 

“Oh Shuri! Im about to cum. Cum with me!”

“Mm Mm. Not yet. Let go now baby. I’ll join your next one.” 

Your body couldn’t hold it you released hard all over the toy. Shuri gripped your waist harder not stopping.

“SH - SH-SHURI!!! I-I can’t! OOOOOHHHH GOOOODDDUUUHHH!!! I can’t cum anymooore”

Shuri grabbed your neck continuing fucking herself on the dildo as it also stroked your sensitive inside. She nodded. “You can take it, Entle. You’ve been wanting me to fuck this pretty pussy for a while now. Let me get the big one out of you!” Your mouth was frozen open tears pouring down your face. The look on your face had Shuri ready to explode. She could no longer hold it. 

“Come on baby! Finish for me. You can do it! I’m cumming y/n! Pull it out of me!” An intense pressure built up inside the two of you as the sun rose over the horizon, and the both of you reached your final explosive climax’s.

“UuuuhhhAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!” You let out a guttural scream as your body convulsed and squirted.

“FUUUUUUCCCKKKK, Fuuucck, Fuuuuuckkk!!!!” Shuri groaned as her own juices splashed against yours. You both reached down rubbing your hand quickly side to side over your clits, juices still flowing splattering all over eachother. 

The two of you collapsed, seperating from eachother; but, covered in eachothers cum.

“We should take a shower.” Shuri said after slightly coming down from her high.

“I can’t move.” You say half dead. Shuri laughs. She sits up grabbing a blanket from the end of the bed. She grabbed your hands pulling you up, wrapping your arms around her neck. And bringing you over to a dry side of the bed. She wrapped you both in the blanket as you intertwined your legs with hers lying on her chest. 

“The suns coming up.” You say.

“I noticed. I guess we got a bit carried away.” She chuckles

“A little.” You join her.

“Sthandwa.”

“Ewe.” Shuri smiled at your use of her native language, before turning serious. 

“He cannot have you any longer. I mean that.” She grabbed your chin lifting it so that you could look at her. “The marriage is done. Time is up. You are mine and I want you here with me.” You smile, placing your bottom lip into your mouth. 

“And here is the only place I want to be.” You say before the two of you drift into a peaceful sleep.

Click, Click 

The sun blared into the room. Soft music still playing over the speakers. Shuri lie flat on her back, as you lie betwixt her legs, head resting on her naked stomach. The room was blurry as you streched opening your eyes. Your movement caused Shuri to stir beneath you, her grip tightening around your upper back. You lift your head to rub your eyes when the back of your head was met with cold steel. Your heart fluttered, as you turned your head only to be met with a familiar silhouette. 

“Shuri.. Shuri baby..” You call out tapping her side frantically as tears began to form. 

“Don’t be scared now, Waka. You disrespectful cunt.”

Shuri’s eyes popped open, at the sound of the male voice inside of her room. 

“What the fu-“ She came face to face with your husbands calm demeanor. As he held a pistol to the back of your head. The anger in his eyes unmistakeable. Her eyes found your panicked ones looking up to her with sheer terror. Your breathing was erratic, and your palms began to sweat.

“Be calm Thandiwe. You are safe with me.” Calm, steady, not an ounce of fear, could be detected in her tone. 

“You are a smart man Mr. Addai. Atleast that’s what I gathered from my extensive research.” Shuri brought her hands up to rest underneath her head. Her small perky breast exposed, however she was unfazed. Mike brought the gun up to her quickly. 

“I already have a bullet in the chamber. I suggest you not move a muscle.”

“Relax. What are you afraid of? You’ve got the upper hand. The gun, the element of surprise. We’re only two women. What are we going to do?” Staring Shuri down, he kept the gun, and his attention on her. “Ubusi, go fix me and your husband a drink, and bring my robe. Cover yourself, your body is no longer his to see.” 

Mike began to move the gun back to your head and Shuri quickly reached up grabbing the barrel, placing it back onto  her.

“Ah ah on me oo.” She looks him dead in the eye, She acknowledges you again only with her words. “Do as I say my love.” You instantly get up from the bed taking the covers with you revealing Shuri’s naked, cum stained body. His eyes followed you as you scurried off of the bed.

“Don’t even think about it.” She whispered, bringing his attention back to her. His eyes trailed Shuri’s beautiful toned, cum stained body. “Excuse, the mess. We got a little carried away and passed out. So much cum. Have you ever made her cum? Didn’t seem like it last night.”

“You talk a lot of shit for a bitch with a gun to her head.” 

Shuri chuckles. “Common sense. It betrays you Michael. What was your plan? To walk armed into the home of the Queen of a nation, quote undetected end quote, into an unguarded room. Hold a gun to my babes head, and somehow make it out alive to take her home?” She once again chuckles. “Did it not feel wrong when you walked the halls and not one guard or Dora spotted you? And here I believed you where at the very least a critical thinker.” Shuri cocked her head to the side, sizing him up. “We all but rolled out the red carpet for you. Idiot.” She whispered. Fear resonated behind his eyes, they darted from side to side now searching for Shuri’s henchmen.

Demure in the presence of the Queen, now clothed in your robe you approach her with her own, and the drinks that she’d requested. Composed and unafraid she stood to her feet without warning.

“I said don’t move!” Michael screamed, clearly unnerved. You place the drinks on the table beside the bed, and Shuri turns her back to you as you hold her robe open, so that she could ease it on. Shuri side eyed Mike, amused at his irratic behavior. Choosing not to acknowledge him at the moment, she placed a finger underneath your chin.

“Enkosi, Bambo'lwami. Be a good girl for me and stay out of the way.” She spoke sweetly as she placed a sweet kiss to your lips. Your gaze met hers adoringly. Even in imminent danger, she made you feel as though you were the only ones in the room, making your body react to her. You nod, “Whatever you want, baby.” It came out more seductively than you intended, and Shuri smirked, raising a brow. You turned to walk away and she bit into her lip.

“I’m going to have fun with that later. You smell that?…” Shuri sniffed the air. “That’s her arousal.” Shuri smirked. Picking up her drink from the table. 

“Fuck you!” Mike yells, Shuri cringed.

“I think not.” She says, cooly taking a sip.

“My problem is not with you.”

“I bet it isn’t.”

 “You saw an opportunity and you took it.”

“Is that what I did?”

“I’m leaving here with my wife.” Shuri stepped forward into his gun, the barrel between her eyes.

“I wish the fuck you would.” Mike took a shakey breath and In the blink of an eye straightened his arm out to the side pointing it towards you, letting out a shot. You scream falling to the floor, and Shuri took the thick glass and shattered across Mikes face. Dora rushed into the room. “Take her! I’ll handle him.” Shuri’s attention now lie on the groaning man on the floor. She bent down to his level, gripping him by the neck.

“I hear you like to fight women. Fight me.” Her demeanor was still calm as she spoke. Mikes face scrunched in pain. 

“Come oooon now. No way way my little weak woman blow has you out already? Big strong man. Goooriiiillaaa!” Her laugh was sinister as she placed her face close to his, scrunching her eyes in faux confusion as he tried backing away from her.

“No? Nothing? Mchht, Demethi! I was wrong about you! I thought this would be fun! But you are truly pathetic.” She picked him up by his neck walking out onto her balcony hanging his body over the side.

“No! Please!” He screamed. Grabbing onto her robe for dear life.

“Please. Please he says.” His body thrashed under the strength of the Panther. Tears streaming from his eyes. “And he’s crying? My God! This is embarrassing for you. I see why that beauty downstairs made you so insecure.”

“Please just let me go.” Shuri raised a brow smiling. “Well if that’s what you want.” Panicked gasps left his lips as Shuri pretended to drop him. “Nononono! GAAHD!” 

“You should be more specific with your requests Michael.” She held him a bit further over the edge. “I’ll tell you what. I’m going to go ahead and take my lady off your hands. You obviously can’t don’t no what you’re doing, so she’s mine now baby boy.”

“I honestly couldn’t have done it without you. All of the odds were in your favor, you had the power to make her never want to see me again. But you were negligent with a prize. Intimidated by her value. You brought her right back to me. And for that….” She pulled him up throwing him to the ground infront of her. “I’ll let you live. You are of no threat to me, and you can watch her be treated like the queen she’ll be.”

“The me before would have thrown you from the balcony, gutted you, and fed you to the lions. But I’m better now. And I’ll admit. I lied. This was fun. Now get out of my house.” Mike scrambled to his feet. Piss staining the front of his pants, bleeding from the side of his head as he rushed past Shuri, while she followed him out. 

“Ikumkaziwam!” A Dora called out as they reached the top of the stairs trying to get Shuri’s attention. “Give me a moment to see him out of my home.”

“Y/n was hit by the bullet my Queen.” Instantly it felt as though the walls started to close in on her. Everything started to move in slow motion. The front doors opened and in ran your mother and your sister right as Shuri gave Mike a swift kick causing him to tumble down the stairs

“Where’s my sister?! Where’s my fucking sister?!” Mike reached the bottom of the stairs and Dani was on him immediately. 

“You been putting your hands on my sister nigga! You shot my sister!” She screamed and threw punches to the unconcious man’s face. Your mother tried to pull Dani off of Mike but she was relentless. Shuri snapped out of her shock long enough to get to Dani pulling her off of him. 

“He’s out Dani! He’s gone! Let me take you to your sister!” Dani pulled and tugged against Shuri trying to get herself out of her grip and Shuri let go. Dani snatched away, turning to Shuri placing a finger in her face. 

“Don’t fucking touch me! This shit is on you!” She turned. “Somebody take me to my sister!” A Dora stepped in leading Dani to where you were. 

“FUUUUUUUUCK!!!” Shuri yelled falling to her knees in tears. 

“Pick yourself up little girl.” The voice of your mother came from over top of Shuri.

“I-I’m sorry.” Your mother shook her head. “Danielle is upset and irrational. You have nothing to apologize for. You know that.” Shuri sniffled.

“Yes mama I know.”

She bent to Shuri’s level grabbing her chin. “All you’ve done is love my baby. And you would never cause her harm. That’s why I called you to come get her. I knew you were ready. You’re not here for Dani or anyone else. You’re here for y/n. So get up.. and go be with her.” Shuri nodded standing to her feet. 

Shuri entered the medical area of her lab inside of the house. She’d thrown on some sweats and a tshirt and rushed to your side. Bruno, your mom, and sister all surrounded you as She approached, seeing you lying unresponsive an open wound to your belly. “I’m sooo sorry sthandwa. I’m going to make this right. I promise.” She whispered standing over you, a sob breaking from her lips.

“Oh yea? And how do you plan on doing that?” Your sister glared at Shuri across from her. “Dani, now isn't the time for this.” Your mother interjects. “Then when is the time!? She shouldn't be here! Standing here acting hurt like she didn't cause my sister just as much pain as Mike did! It may not have shown up physically but you did just as much if not more damage and you couldn't fix that. So just how the fuck do you think you’re gonna fix this your highness!”

Your mother opened her mouth prepared to intervene, only to be interupted by Shuri. “Dani, I’m aware of what I did. I’ve received my karma everyday i had to wake up with her not next to me. I don't want any trouble. Your sister has forgiven me. And I hope in time you can too. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

The room was silenced. The Queen had spoken. She held onto your hand. Leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“It’s time to get up baby. This isn’t where our story ends.”

It was approaching midnight in Wakanda as Shuri stood outside of the river tribes village. People lined the streets dancing and chanting holding there sage and torches. Her eyes were misty, as Nakia, Toussaint, Okoye, and M’Baku stood steps behind her in support

“Usisi, they are ready for you.” Nakia says placing an encouraging hand onto Shuri’s back.

Shuri walked forward, watching her people celebrate the woman she loved. Tears finally fell as she thought back on all the time she’d wasted. The years the two of you could’ve spent had she not hurt you. The memories lost. You had always been a beckon of light for her, even when she couldn’t be near you. Your mere existence had brung her hope. Whether you knew it or not, you were the reason for the difference Shuri had made in the world. You’d made an immutable change in her life and she would forever be grateful. As Shuri reached the end of the alter she was met with the Elders.

“Ikumkazi wam, come.” The Merchant tribe elder stepped forward beckoning Shuri to her.

Shuri stepped forward and turned towards the crowd. 

“Citizens of Wakanda, I Elder of the merchant tribe present to you Queen Shuri Udaku the Black Panther.”

Shuri gave her warriors salute and kneeled before the crowd. Their arms crossed over there chests in Salute to their Queen. The elder stepped aside, welcoming you and your family as you stepped forward in your traditional Wakandan garb.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”The elder speaks up. “Tomorrow you will bare that weight, once conjoined  with our beloved Queen and Panther. Today her shoulders are strong, mighty. As a gracious gift from bast runs through her veins. But she will not always carry the strength of the Black Panther. Tonight we test your willingness to bare the weight with your lover.”

Another elder steps forward handing you a wooden bowl with a deep iridescent purple liquid. 

“Now my dear you will place this to your loves lips and strip away the powers of the Black Panther.” Slowly you walk up to Shuri who gave you a reassuring smile.

“Will it hurt?” You say concern filling your voice. Shuri looks up to you.

“My love, you don’t need to be concerned for me. I will be fine.” She reaches out squeezing your hand reassuringly. 

With that, you place the liquid to her lips and she sips. 

It immediately takes effects, veins poping from her forehead and neck, her teeth clenching, and brows furrowing. The people closed their eyes bouncing their shoulders to beat of the drums as Shuri groans in agony. As fast as it started it was over. She gave herself a second and stood to her feet, as the girl you met in your dorm several years ago. She’d grown her hair back. Once again rocking the curly top that you loved so dearly. Love filled her gaze as she took your hand. This was who you loved Not the Queen of Wakanda, not the Black Panther just Shuri. 

She led you forward as the dancing and chanting began to start again your families combining behind you as she led you to the river. The two of you stopped at the edge the water, it tickling the tips of your toes before you turn your heads locking eyes adoringly before Shuri nods her head in reassurance. Together the two of you step into the water submerging yourselves in the blessed water. 

People came, baring gifts of fruits and herbs to anoint your union as the full moon reached its peak. The Elders reached their hands out to you praying for the success of your marriage and reign as Queens of Wakanda.

You leaned forward, foreheads touching as Shuri’s hands snaked around your waist, your arms wrapped around her neck. And you heard her sniffles.

“They’re here Shuri. They’re watching. And they are proud.” She lifted her head allowing herself to be proud.

“I’m so exited to live the rest of my life with you bambo’lwami.” Your smile gave the moon a run for its money. 

“I’m so glad you said yes.”

Shuri believed in the green light, the orgasmic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter- tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther ... So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

[syndrossi]

October Trick or Treat #3: Hatchlings + leaves

It ended up being another close race between two Halloween prompts: the hatchlings + leaves, and the hatchlings encountering a black cat (with Daemon).

x~x~x

It was not a long flight to the stretch of woodlands his father used to take them to long ago, during the height of autumn, though the dense foliage deeper within forced Caraxes to land a short distance from the edge of the treeline. This far from any roads or established towns, there was unlikely to be anyone else but them for miles, but Daemon kept a vigilant eye as they walked the rest of the way to where the trees grew thicker. Caraxes, he knew, would roar his own warning should he spy danger.

“Why are we here?” Jon asked, surveying the area with kindred caution. “What is it you needed to show us?”

The hatchlings had been set loose upon landing, and they had already discovered that the trees were rife with other winged creatures of flight: birds. The leaves and branches overhead rattled as they chased after any they could spot. Each time, Jon glanced upward, wary as he often was.

Perhaps I should have put more thought into this venture. He had kept coy, wanting to enjoy their reaction to the colorful foliage and the wonder of the towering oaks and maples. But Jon’s response to an unfamiliar environment tended to be one of alert caution. Whereas Rhaegar’s gaze was fixed on the canopy above, his expression one of rapt wonder, lost in the beauty of it.

If only I could convince them to lend one another their vision of the world, that they might balance out.

As though to illustrate his point, Rhaegar barely reacted when Daemon grabbed him from behind, as an assailant might. He spun his son around once, lifting his feet off the ground, before releasing him, earning a confused smile before Rhaegar’s gaze returned to the foliage above. Which was itself progress of a sort. Once, any move Daemon made in his direction would have been met with a quiet, wary stare.

Daemon did not think he could rid Jon of his vigilance, nor did he want to, but he wished his son would learn to trust Daemon with their safety, and leave his mind free of worry so that he could play unburdened.

“You are looking at it,” Daemon said finally, gesturing with a sweeping hand at their surroundings.

Jon raised a brow at him, unimpressed. “Trees?”

Daemon walked past him and began gathering armfuls of discarded leaves from the bases of the surrounding trees, depositing them in a growing mound. It was enough to tear Rhaegar’s attention from the canopy, and he moved to assist, at which point Jon joined in as well.

The forest floor was already thick with leaves, so it did not take long to form a pile nearly as high as his chest, and a good six feet in diameter. It was a riot of color itself, a mix of duller, drier browns that had sat decaying on the ground for longer, as well as vibrant yellows, oranges, and reds. The maple leaves in particular seemed to keep their color longer after falling, and Rhaegar had selectively sourced his armfuls from those trees.

“And now?” Jon asked. From the way he was looking at the pile, he seemed to know precisely what came next, which made Daemon all the more determined to foil his expectations.

He stepped right up to the pile, turning back to the twins, their faces rosy-cheeked from the colder weather as they watched him unstrap his sheath and set Dark Sister down. Then he spread his arms outward and let himself fall backward into the pile. It was a heavier fall than he remembered as a child, but the leaves cushioned it, then enveloped him completely. He let himself lie there for a few moments, then flung his hands outward to poke through the leaves.

“Is no one going to assist me out?” he called, adopting a wounded tone.

He waited until each of his hands had been grasped, then yanked, pulling them into the pile with him to startled shrieks. It was impossible to distinguish who was who, so he tickled indiscriminately, until both were giggling, before finally releasing them to pop out of the pile.

They emerged after him, one after the other, leaves tangled in their hair and mirth bright in their eyes. Daemon took turns tossing them high above the pile to land within, and the hatchlings finally gave up on pursuing birds to join in, diving into the pile instead whenever the boys disappeared within.

Jon quickly adapted the leaves into warfare, stuffing them down Rhaegar’s tunic, to his brother’s utter indignation, and crumpling them into his hair. Daemon helped Rhaegar chase him down, warmed by Jon’s unrepentant grin when they caught him and stuffed him with leaves as well.

When they finally tired, Rhaegar made Daemon sit beside the pile and painstakingly selected the most vibrant red and orange leaves to arrange in his hair, then dragged Daemon over to the nearby stream to show him the fiery crown he had built.

“It is very fetching, Rhaegar,” he said, lips finding twigs and crushed leaves as he kissed the top of his son’s braid. “Thank you.”

His crown did not last long. Qelebrys eventually landed on his shoulders, biting into the leaves one by one to pull them free, reducing both his sons to helpless laughter. When she was finished, she gave Daemon an expectant look, and he murmured his thanks for whatever service it was that she thought she had provided.

Another round of wrestling ensued, and then Jon declared an impromptu game of chase. Daemon considered himself to be in fine fighting form, but even so, the twins’ boundless energy wore him down. He caught them easily the first handful of games, and then had to pace himself for the rest. On the very last, he flung each of them over a shoulder and threw them into the leaf pile one last time.

The hatchlings, who had spent the games of chase both exhilarated and confused, happily plunged in after them again. Jon popped up with a dried leaf in hand and gave Shadow a considering look.

“No,” Daemon intoned. He would rather not set the Kingswood aflame.

Clouds, thick and heavy, had rolled in over the course of their play, and the air had a bite to it now in full shadow. He herded them back to Caraxes, preferring not to risk them catching cold should rain begin to fall, and could feel them shivering on either side of the saddle during the short ride back.

Rolen was waiting back at the apartments with hot cider and a bath that steamed temptingly. Outside, the rain had caught up to them, loud against the windows.

“Come,” Daemon said. “Let us get you warmed up.”

[cocomonerd]

Something that i havent seen talked about a lot but really stood out for me was the contrast of the bonds that the 3 riders had with their dragons. Aegon and rhaneys have a very loving bond with their dragons to aemonds bond with vhagar as a weapon. Meleys was a battle dragon so there is loyalty and solidarity there. They look to each other for support and planning in battle and when rhaneys straps in it proves once again that it’s a ride or die bond. Sunfyre and aegon are kindred spirits having both grown up in a time of peace so the love there is pure (saw a lot of people saying sunfyre is the only one aegon always got unconditional love from) and it was beautiful to see potrayed. Aemond on the other hand wields vhagar like a weapon especially since he claimed her to soothe his insecurities and battered ego. He’s like a bitter angry little boy with a gun and it really goes to show the decay of the Targaryen dynasty.

[hypothermic-dream]

The city stretched before him, a labyrinth of honking horns and flickering neon signs, each light a malignant tumor in the decaying flesh of urban sprawl. This wasn't a city; it was a festering wound, an obscene monument to humanity's insatiable greed and relentless decay. Every face he saw, every laugh that scraped against his ears, felt like a personal insult, a cruel reminder of his insignificance in this world—a rigged casino, a den of inequity where he was the sucker, lured by the false promise of fortune, pockets empty and soul sucked dry.

The air hung thick with the stench of exhaust fumes, rancid sweat, and desperation, a putrid miasma that mirrored the churning pit in his stomach. This place wasn't built for people like him, just another expendable cog in their infernal machine, destined to be ground to dust and discarded when they found a shinier replacement. The skyscrapers loomed like tombstones, casting long shadows over streets slick with rain and regret, a sprawling necropolis where dreams came to die.

Each morning, he woke to the taste of ash in his mouth, a bitter reminder of the countless battles he'd already lost. His body was a roadmap of past mistakes, every scar a self-inflicted punishment etched in angry red. He was a barely contained explosion, a walking disaster on the brink of implosion. Looking in the mirror was an exercise in futility. The reflection that stared back held the same contempt he felt for the world, a bitter cycle of self-loathing reflected in hollow, dead eyes.

"Hope?" He spat the word out like a rotten piece of fruit. "Hope is for suckers who haven't learned the game is rigged. They dangle that carrot in front of you, just to keep you chasing until you drop dead." His voice was a low growl, a barely controlled snarl of disdain. "This world can keep its happy endings. I'll take mine served on a bed of nails, with a side of betrayal." A surge of dark energy coursed through him, a twisted desire to burn it all down—this city, this world, everything that had brought him to this point. Maybe from the ashes, something new could rise, something forged in the fires of his rage and despair.

The streets were lined with the broken, the forgotten, those who had been chewed up and spit out by the merciless gears of Capitalism. Their eyes were vacant, their faces gaunt, shadows of the people they once were. He walked among them, a kindred spirit in this gallery of the damned. The buildings around them crumbled, their facades cracked and peeling, as if the very city itself was giving up, succumbing to the relentless march of entropy.

Every corner held a new atrocity: a man begging for scraps beneath a billboard promising luxury, a child sifting through garbage for something to eat, the distant wail of sirens a constant reminder of the ever-present chaos. The rain fell in sheets, a relentless deluge that did nothing to cleanse the filth but only seemed to smear it around, creating rivers of sludge that flowed through the gutters.

Then there were the aristocrats, the parasitic elite who strutted around in their tailor-made suits and designer dresses, their fake smiles and hollow laughs echoing through the corridors of power. They pretended it was all good, their every word a lie, their every gesture a mockery. Their laughter was a cacophony of hypocrisy, a parody of joy. They drove their luxury cars past the homeless, their tinted windows hiding their disdain, as if the suffering outside was just another piece of scenery to be ignored. They dined on gourmet meals while children rummaged through garbage for scraps. They wore their wealth like a shield, oblivious or indifferent to the agony their privilege inflicted on the rest of humanity.

Yet he pitied them, too, these aristocrats. Their wealth was a prison, their lives as hollow as those of the destitute. They, too, were victims of the same merciless system, trapped in a cycle of meaningless excess, unable to see the futility of their pursuits. Their luxury was but a thin veneer over a chasm of despair, their laughter masking the same existential dread that gnawed at his own soul.

There was no escape from this urban hellscape, no respite from the crushing weight of existence. The world outside was no better; nature itself had turned against humanity, withering and dying under the toxic assault of progress. Forests burned, oceans choked with plastic, the air thick with the poison of industry. Humans were parasites, sucking the life from the planet and each other, too blinded by their own hubris to see the precipice they were hurtling toward. And in this grand theater of misery, he saw the futility of it all, the shared suffering of both the poor and the rich, each bound by their own chains, each marching toward the same inevitable end.

[marciabrady]

it's so funny to me that the princess our culture associates fundamentally with passivity offers credos which are among the most active and powerful of any in the fairytale canon

first and foremost, cinderella communicates that we all are what we contribute.

cinderella saves the mice and fosters an environment of collaboration, harmony, and unity that's harbored by her own industrious nature. mind you, she does all of this against her stepfamily's wishes, actively defying them, and creating a counterculture in the process.

as the story team intended the animals to be a reflection of their human counterpart, notice how cinderella's kindred are uniformly hardworking, intentionally kind, and approach every situation with their best foot forward, adapting a problem-solving mindset that collectively aids them all in their shared progression toward the betterment of themselves and the world around them. take the very first scene in which we see cinderella and the culture she's created, for instance:

everyone has a hand in the first chores of the day and they're all choosing to do it with a smile on their face. key word: choosing. because this isn't an idly happy lot whose joy is an accident of their own nature or something that's easy. their happiness is something they have to be mindful of and, in many cases, fight against themselves to achieve. because, guess what? their life is terrible. they've been reduced to living in a dusty attic room of a decaying house. many of them were saved from death by cinderella, herself, and know that if they venture too far outside of the safe quarters she's provided, or if they allow themselves to be seen in some way, they'll be back at death's doorstep. the danger and stress they live under would cause anyone to snap, or anyone to never want to get out of bed, which is why we see them looking like this in one of the most relatable openings of all time:

i mean, cinderella canonically hits the snooze button:

the birds literally have to force her to wake up, initially:

and once she does wake up, she's playful and pleasant and kind, yes. but that doesn't last long- the clock immediately tries her by reminding her of the daily toil she must face in order to maintain the food and shelter that's tantamount to, not only her own survival, but that of this tiny community that she's the unofficial mayor over and continues to be responsible for. she has to sustain herself and the others she's collected around her by choosing to live life the way she does. this kindness is something she has to pay for, every day. and she physically snarls at being reminded of the hand life's dealt her:

and you know what? that's a very human quality that everyone can identify with in some regard because it's hard, even if you are someone who loves life and the people around you, to keep going in spite of the challenges you face. being positive, plainly put, is something that's difficult and you have to keep reengaging yourself to be because it isn't a natural state for most people, and especially not people that have been treated as unkindly as cinderella. let's not forget that she lost both of her parents at a young, formative age, and from that time in her youth when, like all other children, she deserved to be supported and loved and protected, she was literally "abused, humiliated" and "forced" into being a literal "servant in her own house." she had no security- both of her parents were gone, she had no money to fall back on, no education, no means with which to leave the house, and to try to get a job in that world and environment- as unlikely as it would've been to obtain in the first place (which, again is so relatable- look at the staffing shortages and people struggling to find employment today)- would've been contingent upon references of some sort, and we all know that lady tremaine definitely would've either a) ran a smear campaign against cinderella to absolve herself and the family name of any personal fault or b) prevented cinderella from ever leaving in the first place so that no one would ever know that atrocities the tremaines forced her to endure from the time she was practically an infant.

she wakes up after barely being able to sleep, probably, due to all the daily chores she must, alone, accomplish to keep an entire estate afloat. everyone is depending on her, from the stepfamily to the mice to the grounds of her family's home itself. her body's practically aching from the lack of rest, the physical work she's forced to do every day, from sleeping on such an uncomfortable bed. the only place she feels remotely safe is in this drafty attic, which smells of fraying wood and aging artifacts and is in a constate state of decay, with weeds growing in the sides of the tower. that's not even mentioning the emotional turmoil, the ptsd, the grief, the neglect, the physical abuse she's also processing at any given moment

so, yeah, cinderella snaps. and there are times she snaps later on in the film but she always reels herself in and consciously makes the choice to never succumb to her circumstances. this is what makes cinderella extraordinary. she singlehandedly- and actively- ends the cycle of abuse through the behavior and choices she partakes in every single day.

and, again, this isn't something that's easy for someone who has been in survival mode for a majority of their life. but the conscious choices, active efforts, and mindful decisions cinderella makes is what frees the household from that cycle of abuse continuing. i mentioned earlier that the animals are supposed to be a parallel to their human counterparts. remember how we meet gus? he's just been caught in a trap, doesn't have anything to wear, and is literally recoiling in fear. due to his terror and his own need to defend himself out of instinct, he attempts to make himself come off as threatening as possible and is ready to pop off the minute that jaq approaches him:

but, through cinderella's influence, she's able to give him hope once more. she treats him warmly, pairs him up with a buddy to go through life with, comes up with a name- and even a nickname- for him, gives him a community, a safe haven, and clothes him. in that short time, look at the difference she's made in his mood, his demeanor, even his approach to life:

and it isn't just the mice cinderella's this way with. in the opening slides, we see cinderella holding an adorable puppy dog. but as the film progresses, and the narrator details the despair the family estate has fallen into, that puppy dog turns into an old, starved bloodhound who's secretly sleeping on the floor of the cold kitchen to keep from freezing to death. he has to keep even his dreams to himself so as to not be heard by the stepfamily and potentially kicked out. he openly hates lucifer but cinderella encourages him to think of lucifer's good points too, even if she can't think of any herself, to be able to continue successfully cohabiting this environment with him. and when he pounces on lucifer, deserved or not, she puts an end to this:

because cinderella knows what will ever happen if bruno allows himself to give into his impulses, to treat others as life has treated him, to attempt to retaliate in an impossible environment when the odds are already against you. you'll harm yourself the most and perpetuate that cycle.

but, just as bruno is a reflection of cinderella, notice how gleeful lucifer is in falsely incriminating bruno, so that another being who's never wronged him will be unjustly punished and suffer:

this is what separates cinderella from the tremaines. this is why she is the heroine and they will never be, despite how many people you see empathizing with how unfairly life must've treated them for being the "conventionally unattractive" characters in the film, or for having a single mother which to them denotes less resources, or for being awkward, or for whatever other reason of the month they're being rewritten to be the victims.

if we are the sum of our contributions, the tremaines are nothing and that is definitely a reflection of their reality. they only feel alive when they're making fun of cinderella or humiliating her by continuing that cycle of abuse they passively adhere to and never challenge. remember how we met cinderella and her friends, gathering their spirits and putting on a smile, despite how hard it is with the troubles that face them? how they look past that to work together and try to change life for the better?

the tremaines can't be bothered to get out of bed. the truly passive, lazy characters, they grog about in dim rooms, turning around in their fine silks and ornate finery, while a being they literally enslaved is being forced to do their bidding. and they refuse to actively participate in their very charmed and privileged life. they can't even find a reason to be happy- but instead are upset when cinderella enters their room. they want to know why she's taken so long, to hurry up, to continue to wait on them, hand and foot. when she asks them how they're doing, they grumble, "as if you care." because they don't care about anyone else, so why would others care about them? and that type of apathy breeds resentment, which- in the wake of such sedentary creatures- seeks manifestation and results in destruction. the stepsisters get out of their comfortable beds only when they have the opportunity to point their finger at cinderella, to get their mother to punish her. again, they feel alive by inflicting pain on others, it's literally what gets them out of bed:

again, as the parallel, this goes for lucifer, too:

as cinderella nears lady tremaine's bed, her stepmother's eyes blaze with fury, hatred plain on her face:

lady tremaine doesn't move, her hand only lifting to stroke lucifer, who has the biggest grin on his face. meanwhile, the desperation is evident in cinderella. she isn't quite defeated, because she does stick up for herself three times in the scene. but she's tired of this. she's tired of being tormented by her only family, of having the odds stacked against her even when she's doing everything in her power to live as peacefully and productively as possible, of being forced to fight a losing battle that will never result in peace but will only further prompt hatred, and division, and anger. in her expression, there's almost a plea for lady tremaine:

it isn't until she sees cinderella's expression, she hears cinderella try to explain what happened, that she livens up. because she has the opportunity to, again, keep that cycle of abuse alive, to actively try to destroy cinderella's quality of life and to profit off the position of power she's in over cinderella. look at the difference in lady tremaine's expression in the previous cap, and in this one, when she believes she's silenced cinderella and is preparing to tear into her:

one of the best instances through which i can further illustrate this ideology (you are what you contribute) is in a later scene, where we see the stepsisters discard their fine wares, labeling it trash and flinging the luxuries life's afforded them to scorn. it's nothing to them.

yet, to the mice and cinderella, it isn't nothing. because, remember, the royal proclamation declared that every eligible maiden should attend. at first, the stepmother refuses to let cinderella go and even the stepsisters brush her aside with classist comments. when cinderella sticks up for herself by reminding them she's still a member of the family, and by trapping them in the language of the royal decree "every eligible maiden," lady tremaine has no choice but to consent- on the grounds that cinderella is able to make herself eligible through producing a suitable dress. because, remember, cinderella isn't seen as a person. she's seen as subhuman, someone who's reduced to wearing tatters and isn't seen as a person in the eyes of their society unless she has social indicators of wealth via her clothing, in this specific instance. drizella and anastasia never have to think about that, because they exist as people of value in their society due to their good fortune that they had no part in creating. they don't know what it's like to be laughed at, to not be considered eligible or even a person in the eyes of society the way that cinderella's lived experience has reflected since her father died. meanwhile, the tremaines are so deep in their own privilege, that they're literally waving it around like it's a rag and carelessly tossing it away. yet, what does cinderella do, with much less?

cinderella makes do with what little she has, always to help someone else. and because of this active kindness, it changes the mindset of those around her. since she's afforded this to so many of the mice, what do they do for her in return?

what a difference in how cinderella and the stepfamily approaches what's, essentially, the same material? and this community that cinderella has established and continually maintained and influenced comes to each other's aid, time and time again. whether it's cinderella freeing the mice from death, or giving them clothing, or allowing bruno to sleep inside unbeknownst to the stepfamily, or the mice turning into a LITERAL army and battleground in cinderella's honor:

again, this community is just as active and vital as cinderella, herself, is. because those values i mentioned earlier, of helping one another and rising above your circumstances and working together, aren't just whimsical morals cinderella sings about. they're constant behaviors she's actively taking part in and impact the household they all share, to the point where when they help each other take action when the time is right. they're constantly conferring with one another on how to best use their community and the resources this offers to get closer to victory. (meanwhile, the stepfamily is only for themselves; anastasia and drizella literally repeatedly hit each other and compete, even to the point of giving conflicting stories to the grand duke that makes their pathetic attempt seem all the more discreditable at alleging they were the princess at the ball the night before) we see it in how cinderella and her friends accomplish their chores together, in how the mice plan to get her dress remade while she's busy, even in how cinderella's quick thinking leads to calling upon bruno, who must be awoken by the birds with an interjecting call from the horse, and how this leads to all of their escape:

because, this community also knows when it to fight and support one another in times of battle and when the goal will bring about a victory that will ultimately reign peace; they know when it's worth it for a shared goal and the benefit of all parties involved. and the difference cinderella brought into that household is what gave them all glory and helped them, not only survive, but succeed. it isn't just the poor scullery maid we see ascend in the closing chapter of the film. we see the same bluebirds who attempted to wake her up in the beginning of the film holding her wedding veil:

we see those same mice that she nursed from death, and clothed, and fed, and loved; the mice that risked their lives in remaking her deceased mother's dress so that cinderella might, too, have a chance to go to the ball; they're still here, cheering her on and throwing rice in blessing at the happy couple, their own clothing being upgraded to reflect that of the royal staff:

we see that starved bloodhound and the old horse leading the royal regiment, as beautiful and shining and proud as their majestic counterparts:

and this is the world that cinderella, as a character, offers. not a world in which multiple parties are at competition with one another over who's the prettiest, or the wealthiest, or where hatred breeds continual hatred. but she presents us a world in which everyone deserves to be seen, heard and valued; where everyone can find a community they can contribute to and have purpose in and be worthy of experiencing love, whatever you determine love to be whether it's romantic or in the form of a found family.

a world in which everyone can go to the ball:

[novaursa]

Part 4

- Title: zōbrie ānogar

- Rating: Explicit (18+)

- Romance: (Aegon II/OFC)

- Warning: All flags are up for this work. Aegon is also a warning on his own.

- Summary: It was written by Archmaester Gyldayn that on the day Princess Vaella Targaryen was born she was supposed to die. Until she fed upon her twin, Baelon. And when she turned one and five, she sought her end in the lair of Cannibal, in Dragonmont. But instead of feasting upon her, the dragon wept with her. And Archmaester had written a lengthy thesis on how wild dragon recognized a kindred soul in the Princess, as they both dined on their kin.

- Word count: 9 000+

- Parts: 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Final

The grand dining hall of Dragonstone was filled with the subdued clatter of utensils and the murmur of conversations, but there was a noticeable tension in the air. Vaella’s absence was glaringly apparent, and Aegon, seated next to Aemond, was visibly unsettled, glancing repeatedly at the empty seat beside him. King Viserys, weary and in pain, finally looked up from his untouched meal, his expression one of concern and frustration.

“Where is my daughter?” Viserys demanded, his voice carrying over the hall.

The knights of the Kingsguard exchanged uneasy glances but remained silent. Daemon’s patience snapped, and he barked at them, “One of you should have been watching the Princess! Speak up!”

Ser Harrold, their commander, stepped forward reluctantly. “Your Grace, it is not uncommon for Princess Vaella to sneak past us to seek solace. She often orders us to leave her be.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes flashed with anger. “That is not acceptable. She is to be protected at all times.”

Alicent shared a look with Ser Criston, who grimaced before addressing the king. “Your Grace, I saw the Princess walking towards Dragonmont earlier. I believe I can catch up to her.”

Viserys, leaning heavily on his cane, nodded. “Then do so, Ser Criston. Bring her back safely.”

Aegon suddenly stood up, his face a mask of determination. “I will go with Ser Criston.”

Alicent, her eyes widening with concern, quickly interjected, “Aegon, sit back down. This is not the time—”

But Aegon cut her off, his tone resolute. “No, Mother. Vaella is my betrothed. I need to ensure she is safe.”

Viserys, seeing the resolve in his son’s eyes, allowed it, much to Alicent’s annoyance. “Very well. Go with Ser Criston, Aegon. But be quick.”

Alicent’s expression hardened, but she held her tongue as Aegon and Ser Criston left the hall together. The tension in the room was high, the clinking of utensils gradually ceasing as everyone watched the pair depart.

The journey to Dragonmont was swift, Aegon’s heart pounding with each step. The path was familiar, but tonight it felt more foreboding, shadows deepening as the sun dipped below the horizon.

“Aegon, stay close,” Ser Criston advised, his hand never straying far from his sword.

“I know these paths,” Aegon replied, his voice tight. “We must find her quickly.”

They navigated the rocky terrain, the sound of distant dragon roars growing louder. The entrance to Cannibal’s lair loomed ahead, a dark and ominous cavern. The scent of death and decay grew stronger as they approached.

“She’s in there,” Aegon said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can feel it.”

Ser Criston nodded, his expression grim. “Stay behind me.”

They entered the cave, their footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence. The dim light revealed the grisly remains of Cannibal’s meals, bones and carcasses littering the floor. In the gloom, they saw her.

Vaella lay on the ground, unconscious, with Cannibal coiled protectively around her. The dragon’s eyes glowed menacingly, but there was an odd sense of calm in his posture.

“Vaella!” Aegon cried out, rushing forward, but Ser Criston held him back.

“Careful, Aegon. We don’t want to provoke him.”

Cannibal’s green eyes flicked towards them, his gaze assessing. For a moment, it seemed as though he might attack, but then he slowly uncoiled, allowing them to approach.

“Vaella!” Aegon cried out, rushing forward and dropping to his knees beside her. His hands trembled as he shook her frantically. “Vaella, wake up! Please, wake up!”

She didn't respond, her body limp in his grasp. Panic surged through Aegon, and he shook her harder, his voice growing desperate. “Vaella, please!”

Ser Criston quickly intervened, prying Aegon off Vaella with firm hands. “Aegon, move aside! Let me see her!”

Aegon resisted for a moment, his desperation making him cling to her, but Criston's strength prevailed. He pulled Aegon back, causing the prince to stumble and fall. Ser Criston knelt beside Vaella, checking her vitals with a practiced efficiency.

“She’s alive,” he said, relief evident in his voice. “But we need to get her back to the castle immediately.”

With a grunt, Ser Criston lifted Vaella into his arms, cradling her unconscious form against his chest. Aegon, still shaken, scrambled to his feet, his eyes never leaving his beloved sister. “Be careful with her, please,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

“Stay close, Aegon,” Criston instructed, leading the way out of the cave. Cannibal watched them leave, his green eyes glinting in the dim light, but he made no move to stop them.

The journey back to the castle was swift, Aegon’s protective grip never faltering. As they entered the dining hall, a collective sigh of relief echoed through the room. Viserys stood, his expression one of immense relief.

“Vaella,” he said softly, his eyes filled with concern.

Vaella remained unconscious in Ser Criston’s arms, her face pale and serene. Alicent, despite her earlier annoyance, moved to her son’s side, her hand resting on his shoulder. “Thank you, Aegon.”

Aegon nodded, his eyes fixed on Vaella. “I’ll always be there for her, Mother.”

Ser Criston gently laid Vaella on a couch, his expression serious as he addressed the king. “She’s alive, Your Grace, but she needs rest and care.”

Viserys nodded, his relief palpable. “Thank you, Ser Criston. We will see to her care.”

…

Vaella was carefully placed in her bed under the watchful eye of the Maester, who tended to her with gentle hands and a concerned expression. The room was filled with the low murmur of voices and the tension of worry. Daemon stood beside Rhaenyra, her two eldest sons, Jacaerys and Lucerys, and his own twin daughters, Baela and Rhaena, their eyes all fixed on the still form of Vaella.

Aegon sat by Vaella’s bedside, clinging to her hand as if his touch alone could bring her back to consciousness. His face was a mix of anguish and determination, unwilling to leave her side. Daemon’s gaze shifted from Aegon to Ser Criston Cole, who stood nearby, his expression a blend of annoyance and concern.

“Cole,” Daemon called out, his voice cutting through the hushed atmosphere. “Where exactly did you find her like this?”

Ser Criston straightened, meeting Daemon’s piercing gaze. “The Princess was unconscious in Cannibal’s cave. The dragon was coiled around her.”

Daemon’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “And Cannibal didn’t attack you?”

Ser Criston’s jaw tightened, a hint of irritation flashing in his eyes, no doubt fueled by their shared contentious history. “No, he did not. If he had, we wouldn’t be standing here now.”

Daemon smirked at the knight’s snarky response, appreciating the unspoken challenge in his tone. He then leaned closer to Rhaenyra, whispering in her ear. “If what Criston says is true, your sister just claimed a dragon—or perhaps the dragon claimed her. And not just any dragon, a particularly nasty one. We need to verify this.”

Rhaenyra nodded, her face a mask of concern and curiosity. “Be careful, Daemon.”

“I will. I’ll take the Dragonkeepers and inspect the cave myself,” he replied, his eyes glinting with the thrill of a new challenge.

Meanwhile, King Viserys, leaning heavily on his cane, made his way to Vaella’s bedside to observe the Maester’s work more closely. He placed a trembling hand on Aegon’s shoulder, offering silent support as he watched his daughter’s pale face.

“Maester, will she recover?” Viserys asked, his voice fraught with anxiety.

The Maester, without looking up from his work, replied with measured calm. “She is strong, Your Grace. With rest and care, she should recover. But it will take time.”

On the other end of the room, Otto and Alicent stood with Aemond and Helaena. Otto’s eyes flicked over the scene, his mind already calculating the implications of Vaella’s condition and the rumors surrounding Cannibal.

Alicent, her face tight with concern, leaned closer to Otto. “This bond with Cannibal… it could be both a blessing and a curse.”

Otto nodded, his expression grim. “Indeed. We must tread carefully. We could use this in the future.”

…

King Viserys turned to Maester Mellos, his voice strained with concern. "Maester, what exactly happened to my daughter?"

Maester Mellos, still busy attending to Vaella, looked up and adjusted his spectacles. "It appears to be a head injury, Your Grace, but I cannot find the mark where she might have hit it when she fell." He paused, then added in a quieter tone, "It is... interesting."

Viserys's brow furrowed with worry. "What do you mean by that, Mellos? Explain yourself."

Mellos waved a hand dismissively. "Just the ramblings of an old man, Your Grace. Nothing more."

The tense atmosphere in the room grew thicker until Aegon broke the silence. "When will she wake up, Maester? How long will it take?"

Mellos sighed, his expression thoughtful. "It is difficult to say, Prince Aegon. It could be an hour, or it could be days. It depends on the severity of the injury."

Rhaenyra, standing beside her sister's bed, gazed softly at Vaella. "We should let her rest. Come, Jace, Luke, Baela, Rhaena. Give your aunt some peace."

With gentle coaxing, she ushered her sons and Daemon's daughters out of the chamber. Alicent and Otto exchanged a look before following, their faces etched with concern. Viserys, leaning heavily on his cane, was the last to leave, his heart heavy with worry for his daughter.

Maester Mellos finished his work, checking Vaella's vitals one last time before stepping back. The room quieted, leaving only Aemond, Helaena, and Aegon with Vaella. Aegon refused to let go of her hand, his eyes never leaving her face.

Aemond broke the silence, his voice admiring. "Vaella showed great bravery, seeking to claim such a fierce dragon."

Aegon shook his head, his expression troubled. "Vaella never talked about wanting to claim a dragon. She was content with Sunfyre and with me. Something else must have happened."

Helaena, still lost in her world of cryptic whispers, spoke softly. "The bond of fire, not of choice, called by sorrow and unseen voice."

Aegon glanced at her, not fully understanding her words but feeling a deep unease. "Whatever it was, I just want her to wake up. I need to know she’s alright."

Aemond nodded, his gaze shifting to the unconscious form of Vaella. "We’ll find out the truth, Aegon. For now, we must be patient and hope for her recovery."

The room fell into a heavy silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. The bond between Vaella and Cannibal, the mysterious circumstances of her injury, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead weighed heavily on their minds. Aegon’s grip on Vaella’s hand tightened, his resolve strengthening. No matter what it took, he would be there for her, ready to protect her from whatever darkness threatened to encroach upon their lives.

…

Daemon moved purposefully through the corridors of Dragonstone, his face set with determination. He had resolved to uncover the truth about Vaella’s encounter with Cannibal. The thought that his niece might have bonded with such a fierce and unpredictable dragon filled him with a mix of concern and intrigue.

He gathered a small group of Dragonkeepers, their experience and knowledge crucial for what lay ahead. Caraxes, his own formidable dragon, followed closely, his presence both comforting and intimidating. The night air was cool, and the scent of the sea mingled with the ever-present tang of dragonfire.

As they approached the entrance to Cannibal’s lair, the Dragonkeepers exchanged uneasy glances. The cave loomed dark and foreboding, the air thick with the scent of death and decay. Bones and half-eaten carcasses littered the ground, a stark reminder of Cannibal’s ferocity.

“Stay alert,” Daemon instructed, his voice steady. “We’re here to confirm the bond between Cannibal and Princess Vaella. We proceed with caution.”

The Dragonkeepers nodded, their hands resting on their weapons as they moved forward. Caraxes let out a low growl, his eyes fixed on the darkness of the cave ahead.

As they entered, the oppressive atmosphere seemed to close in around them. The light from their torches flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The cave was a labyrinth of tunnels and chambers, the air growing colder the deeper they went.

“Spread out,” Daemon ordered. “But stay within sight. We need to find any sign of Vaella’s bond with Cannibal.”

The Dragonkeepers obeyed, their movements cautious and deliberate. Daemon’s eyes scanned the area, looking for any indication of what had transpired here. The ground was littered with the remains of Cannibal’s meals, and the walls were blackened with soot.

Suddenly, a low rumble echoed through the cave, and Cannibal’s menacing green eyes appeared in the darkness. The dragon was coiled in a protective stance, his massive form blocking their path. Caraxes growled in response, but Daemon raised a hand to calm his dragon.

“Easy, Caraxes,” he murmured, stepping forward. “We mean no harm, Cannibal. We’re here to understand.”

Cannibal’s eyes locked onto Daemon, his gaze intense and unyielding. Daemon took a deep breath, meeting the dragon’s gaze with a mixture of respect and authority.

“Princess Vaella,” Daemon began, his voice steady. “She is my niece. If you have bonded with her, show us a sign.”

For a tense moment, the cave was silent except for the faint crackling of the torches. Then, slowly, Cannibal uncoiled, revealing a space on the ground where a faint outline of a human form was visible. The dragon’s movements were deliberate, almost gentle, as if he was aware of the significance of this act.

One of the Dragonkeepers stepped forward, his eyes widening in realization. “It’s true,” he whispered. “Cannibal has bonded with the Princess.”

Daemon felt a surge of relief and wonder. The bond between dragon and rider was a powerful and sacred connection, and the fact that Vaella had bonded with Cannibal was extraordinary. He turned to the Dragonkeepers, his voice filled with a newfound respect for the fierce dragon.

“Cannibal has chosen Vaella,” Daemon said. “We must respect this bond and ensure her safety.”

Caraxes growled softly, sensing the significance of the moment. Cannibal, too, seemed to relax, his posture less aggressive. The tension in the cave eased, and Daemon felt a deep sense of accomplishment. He had come seeking answers, and he had found them.

“Return to the castle,” Daemon instructed the Dragonkeepers. “Inform the King of what we’ve discovered. I will stay here a while longer.”

As the Dragonkeepers made their way back, Daemon approached Cannibal, his eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and reverence. “You have chosen well, Cannibal. Vaella is strong, like her sister.”

Cannibal’s green eyes flickered, and Daemon felt a strange sense of understanding pass between them. The bond between dragon and rider was more than just a partnership; it was a meeting of souls, a connection that transcended the physical world.

As Daemon stood in the dark cave, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. He would protect Vaella and her bond with Cannibal, ensuring that their connection would be a source of strength for the Targaryen family.

With a final nod to Cannibal, Daemon turned and made his way back to the castle, Caraxes following closely. The night was quiet, the stars shining brightly overhead. 

…

The Dragonkeepers made their way back to the castle, their steps quick and purposeful. They carried the weight of significant news, and as they approached the grand hall, their expressions were solemn. Inside, King Viserys was engaged in a quiet conversation with Rhaenyra. The warmth of the fire in the hearth contrasted with the cold tension in the air.

Viserys looked up as the Dragonkeepers entered, his eyes narrowing with concern. "What news do you bring?" he asked, his voice heavy with the weight of recent events.

One of the Dragonkeepers stepped forward, bowing respectfully. "Your Grace, we have just returned from Cannibal's lair. Prince Daemon and we have confirmed that Princess Vaella has bonded with the dragon. Cannibal has chosen her."

Rhaenyra's eyes widened in surprise, her concern deepening. "Vaella has bonded with Cannibal? Are you certain?"

The Dragonkeeper nodded. "Yes, Princess Rhaenyra. Cannibal's behavior and the signs we observed leave no doubt. He has accepted Princess Vaella as his rider. We will begin constructing a saddle for the dragon immediately so that the Princess may take her first flight with Cannibal back to the capital."

Viserys leaned back in his chair, a mix of awe and worry crossing his face. "This is extraordinary news. Thank you for your diligence. You are dismissed."

As the Dragonkeepers left, Rhaenyra turned to her father, her brow furrowed with worry. "What would possess Vaella to seek out that dragon? Cannibal is known for his savagery and unpredictability. What drove her to such a perilous decision?"

Viserys sighed, his gaze drifting to the flickering flames in the hearth. "We will have to ask her once she wakes up. For now, we must be content with the knowledge that she has accomplished something remarkable. Bonding with Cannibal is no small feat. It speaks to her strength and courage."

Rhaenyra nodded, though the worry in her eyes did not dissipate. "She has always been strong, but this... this is something else entirely."

Viserys placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Vaella will need our support now more than ever. The bond between dragon and rider is powerful, and Cannibal is a force to be reckoned with. We must trust in her strength and guide her as best we can."

Rhaenyra sighed, her gaze softening as she looked at her father. "I just hope she understands what she has taken on. Cannibal is not like the other dragons."

Viserys nodded. "She will learn, and she will adapt. We have always been a family of dragon riders, and Vaella is no different. Her bond with Cannibal may be a challenge, but it is also a testament to her spirit."

The room fell into a contemplative silence, both of them lost in their thoughts. The fire crackled softly, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The future was uncertain, but one thing was clear: Vaella’s bond with Cannibal would change everything. It was a new chapter in the Targaryen legacy, one filled with both promise and peril.

Viserys's voice broke the silence, soft but resolute. "For now, we must wait and prepare. Vaella will wake, and when she does, we will be there to support her. Together, we will face whatever comes."

Rhaenyra nodded, a sense of determination settling over her. 

They sat in quiet solidarity, the bond between them strengthened by their shared concern for Vaella. 

…

Two days had passed since Vaella was found in Cannibal’s lair. The castle had been a place of hushed whispers and anxious waiting. Aegon had remained steadfastly by her side, refusing to leave her room even for meals, his worry etched deeply into his features. He sat by her bed, holding her hand and silently willing her to wake.

As the morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow across the room, Vaella's eyes fluttered open. She blinked against the brightness, her vision blurry and unfocused. Aegon noticed immediately, his heart leaping with hope.

"Vaella," he called softly, leaning closer. "Vaella, can you hear me?"

Her eyes slowly focused on him, narrowing slightly from the light. "Aegon?" she whispered weakly, her voice barely audible.

Aegon's face lit up with relief and joy. "Yes, it's me. You’re awake! You’ve been unconscious from your fall and your head injury."

Vaella frowned, confusion clouding her thoughts. "I didn't hit my head," she murmured, trying to piece together her fragmented memories.

But Aegon, too excited by her awakening to fully register her words, kissed her cheek quickly. "I have to tell the others! I’ll be back soon, I promise." With that, he rushed out of the room, eager to share the good news.

Left alone, Vaella tried to lift the fog from her mind and recollect what had happened. She felt a profound sense of sorrow and loneliness, emotions that seemed to have overwhelmed her completely. The last clear memory she had was of standing in Cannibal’s lair, the dragon’s menacing green eyes staring into her soul.

Cannibal.

The name sent a shiver down her spine. She remembered feeling an inexplicable connection with the fierce dragon, a bond forged in the depths of their shared loneliness. She tried to sit up, her head throbbing slightly, and closed her eyes, focusing on the events that led her to this moment.

Meanwhile, Aegon burst into the main hall, his face flushed with excitement. He found his family gathered there, still deep in conversation about Vaella’s condition and the recent discoveries.

“She’s awake!” Aegon announced, his voice filled with relief. “Vaella’s awake!”

The room erupted into a flurry of movement. Viserys, leaning heavily on his cane, looked up with hopeful eyes. Rhaenyra and Daemon exchanged relieved glances, while Alicent and Otto stood up, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity.

“We must see her,” Viserys declared, his voice filled with determination.

Back in Vaella’s room, she lay back against the pillows, her mind still clouded with confusion. The door opened, and her family entered, led by Aegon who returned to her side, taking her hand once more.

“Vaella,” Viserys said softly, his eyes filled with relief. “How do you feel?”

Vaella turned to her father, her voice still weak. “I... I’m confused. I don’t remember hitting my head. All I remember is... feeling so alone. And Cannibal.”

Rhaenyra stepped forward, her face etched with concern. “What happened in that cave, Vaella? Why did you seek out Cannibal?”

Vaella closed her eyes, trying to piece together her fractured memories. “I felt a pull, like something was calling me. The sorrow and loneliness... it was overwhelming. When I found Cannibal, it was like he understood. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Daemon nodded, his expression thoughtful. “The bond between dragon and rider is powerful, Vaella. It’s possible that Cannibal sensed your emotions and responded to them.”

Viserys squeezed her hand gently. “You did something extraordinary, Vaella.”

Aegon leaned closer, his eyes filled with admiration and relief. “You’re safe now, and that’s all that matters. We’ll figure out the rest together.”

…

In the following week, as Vaella slowly recovered, she spent much of her time with her sister Rhaenyra and her nephews, Jacaerys and Lucerys. Their presence brought her comfort and a sense of normalcy. King Viserys, despite his ongoing health issues, ordered preparations for their return to the capital. The castle buzzed with activity as servants packed belongings, readied dragons, and made arrangements for the journey back to King’s Landing.

During breakfast on the day of their departure, Vaella found herself seated between Aegon and Aemond. The atmosphere in the hall was tense, the boys exchanging hard glares with their nephews, Jacaerys and Lucerys, who sat at the opposite end of the table. A silent storm brewed, hinting at future conflicts.

Aegon’s attention, however, was soon entirely on Vaella. He placed a comforting hand on her knee beneath the table, his touch a silent promise of support and affection. Aemond, noticing his brother’s gesture, smirked slightly.

“I look forward to racing Vhagar with you and Cannibal back to the capital,” Aemond remarked, his tone teasing. “I can’t wait to see the people's faces when we arrive together.”

Aegon frowned, his competitive streak flaring. “That’s not fair, Aemond. Vaella should ride with me on Sunfyre.”

Aemond shook his head, his expression mockingly sympathetic. “You can’t hog Vaella’s attention on dragonback anymore, Aegon. She has her own dragon now.”

Vaella shook her head at her half-brothers' bickering, a small smile playing on her lips despite the tension. “I’m not even sure if Cannibal will obey me,” she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Aemond’s expression grew serious. “You must make him obey, Vaella. You’re his rider now. Show him your strength.”

Aegon scoffed, giving Vaella’s knee a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll do just fine, Vaella. Sunfyre listens to you, doesn’t he?”

Vaella sighed, her gaze thoughtful. “Sunfyre is different, Aegon. Cannibal was a wild dragon. It’s not the same.”

Aemond nodded, his expression understanding yet firm. “He was wild, but he chose you. That means something. You have to believe in that bond.”

Aegon leaned in closer, his voice softening. “And I believe in you, Vaella. You’re stronger than you think.”

Their words, though conflicting, offered her a mix of comfort and challenge. Vaella knew she had to find a way to assert her bond with Cannibal, but the uncertainty gnawed at her. She glanced down the table at Jacaerys and Lucerys, their youthful faces set with determination, and felt a pang of worry for the future. The tensions between their families were palpable, and she feared what lay ahead.

The rest of the breakfast passed with subdued conversation and the occasional sharp glance exchanged across the table. As the meal ended, Viserys stood, leaning heavily on his cane.

“We leave for King’s Landing shortly,” he announced, his voice steady despite his frailty. “I expect all of you to be ready.”

The family dispersed to make final preparations. Vaella lingered a moment, watching Aegon and Aemond as they argued good-naturedly about the upcoming flight. She felt Aegon’s hand slip into hers, a silent reassurance.

“Let’s get ready,” he said, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and determination.

Vaella nodded, squeezing his hand back. “Yes, let’s.”

…

The time had come for Vaella to bid farewell to her family on Dragonstone. She approached her sister Rhaenyra, her heart heavy with emotion. Rhaenyra embraced her tightly, her voice thick with concern and love.

“Take care of yourself, Vaella,” Rhaenyra whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “And remember, you can always rely on your family.”

Vaella nodded, holding back her own tears. “I will, Rhaenyra. Thank you for everything.”

She then turned to her oldest nephews, Jacaerys and Lucerys. Jacaerys gave her a firm hug, his youthful face set with determination. “Stay safe, Aunt Vaella. And if you ever need us, we’ll be there.”

Lucerys, a bit more reserved, nodded solemnly. “Good luck, Aunt Vaella. You’re stronger than you know.”

Vaella smiled, her heart swelling with affection for the boys. “Thank you, Jace, Luke. I’ll miss you both.”

Next, she approached Daemon’s twin daughters, Baela and Rhaena. Baela, ever spirited, grinned at her. “Show them what you’re made of, Vaella. Cannibal’s lucky to have you.”

Rhaena, more reserved, gave her a gentle hug. “Be careful, Vaella. We’ll be thinking of you.”

Finally, Vaella turned to Daemon himself. He stood with his arms crossed, a rare soft expression on his face. “Thank you, Daemon, for ensuring Cannibal is ready to be ridden back to King’s Landing.”

Daemon nodded, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of pride and concern. “It was no easy task, but you’re ready. Show them what it means to be a Targaryen.”

With her farewells said, Vaella turned towards Dragonmont, where the castle met the endless caverns. The air grew cooler as she descended into the dark, the echo of her footsteps mingling with the distant sounds of dragons. Cannibal waited for her under the care of Dragonkeepers, who still looked wary of the massive beast.

As she approached, Cannibal’s huge head turned to her, their eyes locking. A soft, almost purring sound emitted from the dragon, encouraging her to come closer. Vaella felt a strange sense of longing and connection as she stepped forward, caressing his scales on the side.

“Hello, Cannibal,” she whispered, her voice filled with affection. The dragon’s green eyes watched her intently, a deep understanding passing between them. Unable to resist, Vaella hugged his side, feeling the warmth and strength of his body.

She looked up at the saddle made for her. It was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, made of black leather reinforced with steel, designed to accommodate the dragon’s unique structure. It had intricate silver embroidery, depicting dragons in flight, and a high backrest for added security. The Dragonkeepers had worked tirelessly to ensure it was both functional and regal.

“It was a challenge to put it on him,” one of the Dragonkeepers said, his voice respectful. “But we managed to bribe him with a large bull.”

Vaella smiled, appreciating their efforts. “Thank you for your hard work.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady herself. When she opened them, her resolve was clear. She started to climb up to the saddle, her movements confident despite the lingering nervousness. Once secured, she felt a surge of adrenaline and excitement.

“Sōvēs,” Vaella commanded in High Valyrian, her voice ringing with authority.

With a powerful roar, Cannibal obeyed, his massive wings unfurling as he launched himself from the cavern. The rush of wind and the sudden brightness of daylight hit them both as they soared into the sky. Vaella’s heart raced with exhilaration, the sensation of flight overwhelming her senses.

Joining Sunfyre, Dreamfyre, and Vhagar in the skies, Cannibal roared in triumph. The other dragons acknowledged their presence, and together, they formed a magnificent procession, following the ships below as they made their way back to the capital.

…

As Vhagar and Cannibal soared over King’s Landing, the small folk below looked up in awe and trepidation. The sight of Vhagar, a legendary and immense dragon, alongside Cannibal, the feared and wild dragon, struck a mix of fear and wonder into the hearts of the people. Whispers and shouts filled the streets as children pointed to the sky and adults murmured prayers and exclamations of disbelief.

“By the Seven, look at the size of them!”

“Is that Cannibal? I thought he was just a legend!”

“What does this mean for the city? Are we safe?”

The dragons’ shadows cast long and ominous shapes over the buildings, creating an eerie contrast against the bright sky. The people of King’s Landing knew they were witnessing history, and the arrival of these magnificent creatures signaled the start of a new chapter for the Targaryen dynasty.

In the weeks that followed, the Red Keep buzzed with activity as preparations for the royal wedding of Prince Aegon and Princess Vaella were underway. Every corner of the castle was filled with bustling servants, decorators, and courtiers, all working tirelessly to ensure the ceremony would be a grand spectacle befitting the royal family.

Vaella paced slightly in one of the smaller sunrooms, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Helaena, sitting calmly with her embroidery, seemed a world away from the chaos surrounding them. She worked diligently, her fingers deftly stitching a delicate canopy design.

Vaella watched her half-sister for a moment, then turned to her, trying to distract herself from her wedding anxiety. “Helaena, how is your work coming along?”

Helaena looked up from her embroidery, her serene expression never faltering. “It’s going well, Vaella. This piece is for the new canopy in the gardens. It helps to keep my mind busy.”

Vaella smiled faintly, appreciating Helaena’s tranquility. “That sounds lovely. It must be nice to have something calming to focus on.”

Helaena nodded, then paused, her eyes meeting Vaella’s with an uncharacteristic intensity. “Are you looking forward to your wedding to Aegon? It’s all he talks about these days.”

Vaella frowned, her emotions conflicted. “I am looking forward to it, Helaena. But the way it was achieved casts a shadow over it. Aegon’s admission, even though it was a lie, could have impacted me quite differently if Father had reacted another way. Like he did with Rhaenyra.”

Helaena listened quietly, then returned her gaze to her embroidery. “Aegon does that a lot. He doesn’t think things through. But he loves you, Vaella. More than anyone, I think.”

Vaella sighed, her heart heavy with the complexity of her feelings. “I know he loves me. I just wish he had considered the consequences of his actions. It’s hard to forget how close I came to being disgraced, all because of a lie.”

Helaena’s hands moved gracefully over her work, her voice soft and reflective. “Sometimes love makes people act without thinking. It’s a flaw, but it’s also a sign of how deeply they care. Aegon’s love for you is strong, Vaella. Strong enough to drive him to desperate measures.”

Vaella nodded slowly, taking comfort in Helaena’s words. “You’re right. And I do love him, despite everything. I just need to find a way to reconcile that with what happened.”

Helaena looked up again, her serene eyes filled with understanding. “You will, Vaella. Love is complicated, but it’s also powerful. It can heal the deepest wounds if you let it.”

Vaella smiled, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. “Thank you, Helaena. You always know what to say.”

Helaena returned her smile, a rare warmth in her expression. “We’re family, Vaella. We’ll get through this together.”

As the two sisters continued their conversation, the sunroom filled with a quiet sense of solidarity and hope.

…

Aegon sat in the ornately decorated chamber with his mother, Queen Alicent, and his grandsire, Otto Hightower. The room was filled with the soft glow of afternoon light filtering through the tall windows, casting a serene atmosphere over the otherwise tense discussion. The table before them was strewn with wedding preparations—lists of guests, fabric samples, and intricate designs for the ceremony.

Alicent leaned forward, her expression serious and maternal concern etched in every line of her face. "Aegon, you must not make a debacle out of this wedding. It’s an important affair, not just for you and Vaella, but for the entire realm. The eyes of the court and the smallfolk will be upon you."

Aegon, trying to appear nonchalant but feeling the weight of his mother’s words, nodded. "I understand, Mother. I’ll make sure everything goes smoothly."

Otto, sitting with his hands clasped in his lap, his expression one of stern disapproval, added, "It's already a debacle, Aegon, considering how this situation came to be. Your actions could have caused irreparable damage. But it is what we have to work with now. We must salvage what we can and turn this into an opportunity."

Aegon bristled slightly at his grandsire’s harsh words but held his tongue. He knew that Otto had every reason to be displeased. "I know, Grandsire. I regret how things happened, but I love Vaella. I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right."

Alicent sighed, her eyes softening as she looked at her son. "We know you love her, Aegon. But love alone won’t smooth over the damage done. You must be mindful of your actions from here on out. This wedding needs to be perfect to reassure the court and the realm of our family’s unity and strength."

Otto leaned back, his gaze piercing as he studied his grandson. "You need to demonstrate responsibility and maturity, Aegon. This marriage is not just about your personal desires. It’s a political alliance that could stabilize or destabilize our position. Show the realm that you can be a capable leader, worthy of the Targaryen name."

Aegon took a deep breath, absorbing the gravity of their words. "I understand. I’ll make sure the wedding is flawless. Vaella deserves nothing less."

Alicent reached out and placed a hand on Aegon’s. "Remember, this is also about setting an example. The people need to see that you can be a strong and dependable leader, not just a prince who acts on impulse."

Aegon nodded, feeling a mixture of determination and apprehension. "I’ll prove myself, Mother. I’ll prove myself to all of you."

Otto’s stern expression softened ever so slightly. "Good. Then let’s discuss the final details of the ceremony. We need to ensure everything is in order."

…

Aegon and Aemond stood in the training yard, the clinking of their armor and the thud of their practice swords echoing through the space. Their armor was crafted in shades of grey and green, a nod to their Hightower heritage, a decision pushed by their mother, Queen Alicent. Viserys, too tired to argue, had let the change pass. Their armor lacked the traditional Targaryen black and red, a shift that symbolized more than just a change in fashion.

Ser Criston Cole, their instructor, watched them with a critical eye, his own armor gleaming in the morning sun. The boys' armor was adorned with motifs of the Faith of the Seven, another of Alicent's implementations in the Red Keep, which had become more prominent as the king's influence waned. The Faith's symbols pleased the devout but displeased those loyal to House Targaryen, who saw it as a dilution of their heritage.

As Aegon and Aemond sparred, their swords clashed with force, each trying to best the other. They moved with the fluidity of years of training, their bodies honed and strong.

Aegon grinned as he parried Aemond's strike. "The wedding is within the next moon. I can’t wait for the marital activities," he said, his voice dripping with anticipation.

Aemond, quicker and more precise with his strikes, used the opportunity to pull Aegon close, his voice a harsh whisper. "Control yourself, Aegon. You've done enough damage to Vaella's reputation and your own. Servants still find you in her bed. You need to show some restraint."

Aegon shrugged, annoyed. "It doesn’t matter anymore. We’ll be married soon. People should be happy their prince and princess have a healthy attraction to each other."

Ser Criston Cole, catching the end of their conversation, stepped forward, his expression stern. "Prince Aegon, you should show more respect when speaking about your future wife. This is not the talk of a man, let alone a prince."

Aegon frowned but held his tongue, a rare show of restraint.

Criston turned his gaze to both brothers, his tone sharp. "Focus on your training. You need to be prepared for more than just weddings and festivities. The realm looks to you both for strength and leadership."

The brothers resumed their sparring, their movements more precise, their minds focused. Aemond, always the more disciplined of the two, used the moment to drive his point home. "Aegon, you need to think beyond yourself. Our actions reflect on the family, on the realm."

Aegon grunted as he blocked another strike, his annoyance clear. "I know, Aemond. But sometimes I just want to live. To feel free."

Aemond sighed, his tone softening. "I understand. But we have responsibilities. Especially now."

Their sparring continued, the rhythm of their practice providing a brief respite from the weight of their duties. Criston watched, his expression a mix of pride and concern. He saw potential in both princes but knew that their path would not be easy.

As the sun climbed higher, the training yard grew warmer, and the brothers' movements became more intense. The clashing of swords, the shouts of exertion, and the occasional words of advice from Criston filled the air. It was a scene of discipline and determination, but also of underlying tension.

In the days leading up to the wedding, these training sessions became a constant, a way for Aegon and Aemond to prepare not just for the ceremony, but for the future that awaited them. The tension between their Targaryen legacy and their Hightower heritage, the increasing influence of the Faith, and the shifting dynamics of power within the Red Keep all weighed heavily on their shoulders.

Yet, amidst the chaos, they found moments of camaraderie and understanding. Aegon’s brashness balanced by Aemond’s discipline, Criston’s guidance, and the silent support of their mother and grandsire. It was a fragile balance, but for now, it held.

As they finished their sparring, sweat-drenched and breathless, Aemond placed a hand on Aegon’s shoulder. "Remember, we’re in this together. For Vaella, for the family, and for the realm."

Aegon nodded, a rare moment of seriousness crossing his features. "I know, Aemond. And I’ll do my best. For all of us."

Criston Cole watched them with a nod of approval. "Good. Now, clean up and prepare for the day. We have much to do before the wedding."

The brothers left the training yard, the weight of their responsibilities a little lighter for the moment. They knew the challenges ahead were many, but together, they would face them, as princes of House Targaryen and Hightower.

…

Vaella sat with her father, King Viserys, in his private chambers. The room was filled with the soft glow of candlelight, casting gentle shadows over the intricate model of Old Valyria that her father had painstakingly worked on for years. The table was cluttered with tiny buildings, miniature dragons, and detailed landscapes, all representing the glory of their ancestral home. Viserys's hands trembled slightly as he tried to place a small tower in its designated spot.

Vaella watched him with a mixture of admiration and sorrow. Her heart broke at the sight of her father, once strong and vigorous, now struggling with the simple task. She reached out to steady his hand, guiding the piece into place.

"Thank you, Vaella," Viserys said, his voice weak but filled with gratitude. "My hands aren't as steady as they used to be."

"It's alright, Father," Vaella replied softly. "I'm happy to help."

They continued working together, Vaella's nimble fingers handling the more delicate pieces while Viserys directed her with quiet instructions. Despite the joy she felt in sharing this moment with him, she couldn't ignore the pang of grief that twisted in her chest. Her father was fading, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

After a while, Viserys's movements slowed, and he leaned back in his chair, exhaustion overtaking him. "Vaella, I think that's enough for today. Help me to bed, please."

Vaella nodded, gently supporting her father as he rose from his chair. She guided him to his bed, the journey slow and careful. As she helped him settle under the covers, his eyes met hers, filled with a deep, unspoken sadness.

"Vaella," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I regret how little time I had for you. I was always so busy with the affairs of the realm. And now... I miss Rhaenyra, away on Dragonstone, and your mother. Your dear mother."

Tears welled up in Vaella's eyes as she listened to her father's heartfelt confession. "Father, don't say that. You've done so much for all of us. For the realm."

Viserys shook his head slowly. "But not enough for you, my sweet daughter. I wish I could have been there more. For you, for Rhaenyra, for all of you."

Vaella's heart ached with a familiar guilt. She felt responsible for the death of her mother, Queen Aemma, and her twin brother, Baelon, who had died shortly after birth. She believed that Baelon should have lived instead of her, a burden she carried silently.

"I miss them too, Father," Vaella whispered, her voice breaking. "Every day."

Viserys reached out and took her hand, his grip weak but comforting. "You mustn't blame yourself, Vaella. Your mother and brother... it was not your fault. You are a blessing, my child, and you have brought me so much joy."

Tears spilled down Vaella's cheeks as she squeezed her father's hand. "I love you, Father."

"I love you too, Vaella," Viserys replied, his eyes closing as he succumbed to his exhaustion. "Never forget that."

Vaella sat by his bedside, holding his hand until his breathing evened out and he drifted into a deep sleep. She watched him for a long time, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. The weight of her family's legacy, the upcoming wedding, and the personal guilt she carried felt almost unbearable.

Yet, in this quiet moment, she found a small measure of peace. Her father's words, though filled with regret, also carried a profound love that she would hold onto. She wiped her tears away and kissed his forehead gently.

"Rest well, Father," she whispered.

…

It was a warm summer night in the Red Keep, and Vaella was just preparing to retire for the night. The soft glow of candles illuminated her chambers, casting a warm and serene atmosphere. Vaella’s handmaiden, Lyanna, was helping her finish her nightly routine, their conversation light and filled with laughter.

“Thank you, Lyanna,” Vaella said, smiling as she ran a brush through her long, silver hair. “You’ve been a great help.”

“It’s always a pleasure, Princess,” Lyanna replied with a gentle smile. “Is there anything else you need before I go?”

Before Vaella could answer, the door to her chambers burst open, and Queen Alicent stormed in, dragging a visibly drunk Aegon behind her. The abrupt entrance startled both Vaella and Lyanna, and the room fell into an awkward silence.

“Alicent, what is going on?” Vaella asked, her voice filled with worry as she took in Aegon's disheveled appearance.

Alicent dismissed everyone in the room with a wave of her hand, her expression one of barely restrained fury. “Out. Now.”

Lyanna hurriedly left the room, casting a concerned glance at Vaella as she exited. Vaella turned her attention back to Alicent and Aegon, her heart pounding with concern.

“What happened?” Vaella asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Alicent's eyes flashed with anger. “Your brother thought it would be amusing to challenge several knights to a drinking contest in the middle of the training yard. He ended up toppling the practice dummies, breaking several valuable pieces of armor, and nearly setting the entire yard on fire when he knocked over a lantern. All while laughing like a madman and making a complete spectacle of himself.”

Vaella gasped, her worry deepening as she looked at Aegon. “Oh, Aegon…”

Aegon, his eyes glazed and unfocused, stumbled forward and clung to Vaella, burying his head in her neck. “Vaella…” he mumbled, his voice slurred. “I just wanted to have some fun…”

Alicent’s fury didn’t abate. “Set him straight, Vaella. He can’t be seen in this state around the Red Keep. He doesn’t listen to me and continuously humiliates our family. He needs to learn some responsibility.”

Vaella nodded, her voice calm but firm. “I’ll take care of him, Alicent.”

With a final, frustrated glare, Alicent turned and left the room, leaving Vaella alone with Aegon. She gently guided him to sit on the edge of her bed, his grip on her never loosening.

“Aegon, what were you thinking?” Vaella asked softly, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at her brother.

Aegon sighed, his head still resting against her shoulder. “I wasn’t… I just wanted to forget everything for a while. The pressure, the expectations… it’s all too much sometimes.”

Vaella stroked his hair gently, her touch soothing. “I understand, but you can’t keep doing this. You have to find a better way to cope.”

Aegon looked up at her, his eyes pleading. “I know. I just… I feel so lost sometimes, Vaella. But when I’m with you, it all feels better.”

Vaella’s heart ached for him. She knew the burden he carried, and she wished she could take it all away. “You’re not alone, Aegon. I’m here for you, always. But you have to promise me you’ll try to do better.”

Aegon nodded, his expression earnest despite his drunken state. “I promise, Vaella. I’ll try.”

Vaella smiled softly, her hand still gently stroking his hair. “That’s all I ask. Now, let’s get you to bed.”

Aegon clung to her as she helped him lie down, his grip on her hand firm. “Stay with me, Vaella. Just for a while.”

Vaella nodded, sitting beside him and holding his hand. “I’m not going anywhere, Aegon.”

As the night wore on, the room remained quiet, the warmth of the summer night wrapping around them.

Vaella looked down at Aegon, her expression gentle and filled with concern. "Aegon, our wedding is in a few days. Your mother and grandsire will take your head off if it ends in disaster because of your behavior."

Aegon sighed heavily, his eyes closed as he battled the effects of the alcohol. "I know, Vaella," he murmured, his voice a mix of resignation and frustration. "I know."

After a moment, he opened his eyes and pulled her closer, his gaze softening as he inhaled deeply. "You smell nice," he whispered, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Vaella rolled her eyes, a fond smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You're drunk, Aegon."

He chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Tomorrow, when I wake up, I won’t be. And you’ll still smell nice."

Vaella's gaze softened further as she pondered what she would do with him. He was a handful, but he was her handful. Aegon pulled her closer, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that quickly deepened. His hands roamed over her familiar curves, tracing the contours of her body with a need that had been building for far too long.

Just as he feverishly began to undo the lower parts of his attire and moved to adjust her nightwear, Vaella stopped him through their kiss. Aegon halted sharply, his hands stilling, but he whined into another kiss, his frustration evident. "Why? We’ll be wed soon, and nobody really cares anymore."

His frustration boiled over, his voice desperate. "We’re always so close, but someone always interrupts us, or you stop it abruptly. I know you want it too, Vaella."

Vaella blushed as he continued to kiss along her jaw, her resolve wavering. He then asked, his voice low and insistent, "Why do you think my mother brought me to your chambers? She doesn’t care anymore either. She wants you to control me, by any means.”

Vaella’s eyes widened in realization. Alicent just ignored her own upbringing and what Faith was teaching her. Alicent was even bypassing the base decency she always tried to maintain. This was a calculated move, a way to bind Aegon to her more tightly, to ensure he behaved.

The weight of the realization hit her, but as Aegon’s kisses grew more insistent, her thoughts became hazy. She felt his hands on her skin, the warmth of his body pressing against hers, and the deep connection they shared.

As they continued to kiss, Vaella’s mind raced with conflicting emotions. She loved Aegon deeply, and the thought of being with him in every way was both thrilling and terrifying. But there was also the responsibility she felt, the need to ensure that their union was strong and respected.

For now, she let herself be swept away by the moment, her worries fading into the background. Aegon’s touch was familiar and comforting, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to simply feel, to be in the present with the man she loved.

Vaella’s resistance slowly melted away under Aegon’s fervent kisses and tender touches. As her resolve weakened, Aegon seized the opportunity to continue, breaking their kiss to look deeply into her eyes. His gaze was feverish, filled with a longing that had been building for what felt like an eternity.

“Go on,” he whispered huskily, his breath warm against her lips.

Vaella took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She guided his manhood into her slowly, gasping as the pain of her maidenhead breaking surged through her. She stilled on top of him, closing her eyes tightly as she tried to come to terms with the reality of what they were doing and the myriad of sensations coursing through her.

Aegon, for his part, basked in the pleasure of the moment he had wanted for so long. His fingers dug into her hips, holding her steady as he whispered soothingly. “You’re doing great, Vaella. I’m here with you.”

She nodded, her breath hitching as she adjusted to the new sensations. After a moment of stillness, she began to move tentatively, prompting a small moan from both of them. The initial pain started to fade, slowly shifting to a budding pleasure.

“You’re incredible, Vaella,” Aegon murmured, his voice filled with admiration and love. “I’ve wanted this for so long… to be with you like this.”

Vaella’s movements became more confident, and she could feel the pain giving way to a new, unfamiliar pleasure. She opened her eyes and looked down at Aegon, who was gazing up at her with pure adoration.

Their movements became synchronized, the rhythm of their bodies matching the beating of their hearts. As the intensity of their connection grew, so did the pace, each thrust and motion more urgent and desperate than the last. The world outside their intimate bubble ceased to exist, leaving only the sensations they shared.

Vaella was swept away by the new and overwhelming sensations coursing through her. She felt a mixture of emotions: the lingering ache of pain giving way to waves of pleasure, the uncertainty of their actions replaced by the certainty of their love. Her breaths came in quick, shallow gasps as she moved with Aegon, their bodies working together in perfect harmony.

Aegon's hands guided her hips, his touch both firm and tender. He whispered words of encouragement and love, his voice rough with passion. "You're amazing, Vaella. I love you so much."

Vaella's own voice was breathless as she responded, "I love you too, Aegon. I love you so much."

Their shared rhythm grew more frantic, the peak of their pleasure approaching rapidly. Vaella felt herself teetering on the edge of something profound and beautiful, a sensation she had never experienced before. She clung to Aegon, her nails digging into his shoulders as she sought to reach that peak with him.

"Together," Aegon murmured, his voice a mix of command and plea. "Let's reach it together."

Vaella nodded, her eyes locked onto his, their gazes filled with mutual need and love. She focused on the feeling of Aegon inside her, the way their bodies moved as one, and the incredible rush of sensations building within her.

The world around them seemed to blur and fade, leaving only the intensity of their shared experience. As the waves of pleasure built to a crescendo, Vaella felt her body trembling, her breath hitching in her throat. Aegon’s grip tightened, his own breaths growing ragged and urgent.

With one final, synchronized movement, they reached their peak together. Vaella cried out, her voice a mix of ecstasy and relief, as the sensations washed over her. Aegon’s own release followed, his body shuddering with the force of it. For a moment, they were lost in the sheer intensity of their shared pleasure, their bodies and souls entwined.

As the waves of their climax subsided, Vaella collapsed onto Aegon, her heart racing and her body spent. Aegon wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as they both caught their breath.

"That was... incredible," Vaella whispered, her voice filled with awe and love.

Aegon kissed the top of her head, his own voice tender. "It was. I love you, Vaella. More than anything in this world."

Vaella snuggled closer, feeling a deep sense of contentment and connection. "I love you too, Aegon. Always."

In the quiet aftermath, they lay together, their bodies still entwined. The challenges and uncertainties of the future seemed distant and insignificant in the face of their love. For now, they had each other, and that was enough.

[seldritchowl]

"Coronation" ------ Was messing with symmetry tool, and ended up drawing Allen and Allera.

------ Two alternate versions hehe

[bestworstcase]

on the last rose of summer. again.

Tis the last rose of summer, Left blooming alone; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone; No flower of her kindred, No rose-bud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes Or give sigh for sigh!

summer is not the last rose; her epitaph (“thus kindly i scatter”) identifies her with the poem’s speaker, who plucks and scatters the last rose. “the last rose of summer” means the same as “summer’s last rose.” her emblem is the burning rose; she sets the rose aflame. scatters its petals and ashes to the wind.

RLR2: “i never planned that i would leave you there alone […] i didn’t have a choice, i did what i had to do/i made a sacrifice, but forced a bigger sacrifice on you” -> the last rose of summer left blooming alone is ruby.

all her lovely companions/are faded and gone/no flower of her kindred/no rose-bud is nigh: what happened after summer left? tai “shut down” and yang “had to pick up the pieces;” raven fled and returned to banditry, qrow was often taken away by long missions in distant places. ruby couldn’t even talk yet.

but.

summer is her own reflection: the evil stepmother is also the good stepmother, and the best of us is the one who would set the world on fire to do the right thing. duality is in her nature, is the foundation of her character.

I'll not leave thee, thou lone one. To pine on the stem; Since the lovely are sleeping, Go, sleep thou with them; Thus kindly I scatter Thy leaves o'er the bed, Where thy mates of the garden Lie scentless and dead. So soon may I follow, When friendships decay, And from love's shining circle The gems drop away! When true hearts lie withered, And fond ones are flown, Oh! who would inhabit This bleak world alone?

for every life: “some roses will never bloom/some dreams will rot on the vine/some lives will end much too soon/some evil will never, ever die/some wars will not end in peace/some heroes choose the wrong side/sometimes it’s worth it all/to risk the fall/and fight for every life”

& sacrifice: “born an angel, heaven-sent/falls from grace are never elegant/stars will drop out of the sky/the moon will sadly watch the roses die/in vain/loss, no gain/but you’re not taking me”

& guide my way: “open wide/you were born to hypnotize them all/they said their prayers/can you hear me up there?/what survives/after all the dust has gone?/were you there til the end?/were you at least called a friend?”

& rising: “and we’re on our way/love’s the choice we made/we’re looking to the sky/the light will guide us/the rose will grow to be a seed/from every life, another leads/born the way we’re meant to be”

& RLR2: “you’re not the only one who needed me, i thought you understood […] would i change it if i could?/it doesn’t matter now/the petals scatter now/every nightmare just disclosed/it’s your blood that’s red like roses”

and: “we don’t have to kill you to stop you, and we will stop you.” -> “your mother said those words to me; she was wrong, too.”

summer’s epitaph, thus kindly i scatter, is the inflection point of the poem when the speaker plucks the last rose and scatters its petals—a mercy-killing, to end the grief and loneliness the speaker imagines it must feel.

summer rose meant to kill salem, to end the war once and for all. (did she think of it as a kind of mercy, for a being so ancient and terrible?)—the last rose of summer, left blooming alone (but some roses will never bloom). some wars do not end in peace, some heroes choose the wrong side. summer thought he would end a war that existed only in fairytale; when she learnt the truth, when she realized the cause she served was one of subjugation and genocide on behalf of a god who holds humankind in disdain, she took salem’s hand and ignited a firestorm. sometimes it’s worth it all to risk the fall and fight for every life.

i’ll not leave thee, thou lone one, to pine on the stem; and oh! who would inhabit/this bleak world alone?—were you there til the end? were you at least called a friend?

if summer is the burning rose… what survives after all the dust has gone? the rose will grow to be a seed/from every life, another leads…

& this time: “this time/the ways of the past we’ll get over/this time/enlighten a new state of mind/and now/i’ll stand with you shoulder to shoulder/out of the ashes, a new flame ignite/rise up from shadows and into the light/well stand undivided/our futures aligned”

& rising again: “stand firm/outlast/we won’t be beaten by the past/one goal/one pact/looking forward, never back”

ALL THOSE SALEM-RUBY PARALLELS… they are. both. summer’s last rose: the one summer left behind, petals scattered among her faded and withered companions, and the one summer would not leave to inhabit this bleak world alone. out of the ashes a new flame ignite/rise up from shadows and into the light—this is the faunus’ motif but (of course) it is also salem’s; she works from the shadows, ozpin says, but truth will rise, revealed by mirrored eyes, salem answers, and i can’t wait to watch you burn.

[revelisms]

The doctor has a touch like death: chempowder grit beneath the nails, corpse-cool and smooth as stone, prodding his throat like a butcher peeling through layers of rotted meat.

And perhaps that's what he feels like, laid flat on his table: his clothes soaked with sweat, his vision swimming in pink-black-blue. A buck waiting to be skinned. A fish half-gutted.

The fingerpads are too thin, too feeble. They reek not of tobacco, but parchment and must.

"Breathe, boy."

Silco's no boy—but hardly is he human, either, after the black depths he crawled himself out of: a wet womb of industrial filth, his City one with his veins, its slow decay as promised as his slow-shanked slow-bleeding black-shredded heart.

The damned organ beat stubbornly on: boat thrashing to the waves. It kept only a shell still-moving.

A thumb skirts down his pulse-point, and presses. The bruising twinges, simmers, aches. "Narrowly avoided a fracture," gruffs the vulture over him.

It takes two attempts to swallow. "Shall I count myself lucky?"

The words no longer belong to him. His voice lays repackaged beneath a cannibalistic fervor: the kind lent only to night-creatures that peel the flesh from the living and pick their teeth with the dead.

"Luck is that you can speak, at all." The touch eases. "Avoid it, for now."

Sensationless, half-blind, prickling, the doctor leaves him. In the stillness, his own hand stumbles across his clavicle: itches spindly fingers across the frayed collar of his linens, slops heavy-clammy-cold to the slope of his neck.

A pulse drums beneath his palm. His own body. Yes, Kindreds, his own wretched body.

Still alive.

His nails sink in.

Still alive.

Ease.

Still alive.

(And so is he. So is he. So is he.)

"Breathe, boy."

Air shudders from his throat. Shivers against the weight of his palm; his blood beating, beating, beating.

"How long?" he gristles out.

A rattle of metal at the wheeled tray. The doctor's stare skims over him, like a lick of heat from a pyre. "Yours is...a unique case. Some have lasted years. Most succumb, within months." But. But. "At the rate the infection is spreading—"

Beating, beating, beating.

"How long?"

As long as Vander is still living. As long as his knife still sits squeezed between his blood-tipped nails, scratched leather and steel, bone-handled ache. As long as there are still bones to pick his teeth with, hunger to fill, a vision he does not need two damned eyes to see: a glory, a rain of hellfire, a retribution, a need—

Their city's starvation in his veins. Their city's future, blazing in bilge-fire.

"Twice a day," the doctor mutters, a glass vial tacked to the table's edge. "Log your symptoms, every morning. Stay off the smoke."

Silco's thumb stutters beneath his jaw.

He's used to a life without answers. In the noxious wastes of the Sump, he made his peace with it.

This wraith doubts it.

"I won't die, doctor." A beast sears to life beneath his hand, dragon-fang, daggers in the words: grits off the walls, like a spirit's clawscratch. "I can't." Three octaves grappling for purchase: silk and stone and fire at his cheek.

But he will, one day. By Janna's blessing alone, he will.

(And so will he. So will he. So will he.)

silco and singed / low doses

[ficsbyuzi]

Omen

Characters- Alys Rivers, Daemon Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen (?)

Words- 1550

Note- My brain came up with whatever this is about six months ago. And I wrote it because I couldn't contain it in my head any longer. I have been vibrating with excitement since yesterday after hearing Gayle Rankin talk about Alys Rivers, so I thought of reposting it from my old account.

I based this ficlet on this leak and some parts of the canon. Alys is a captive of Sabitha Frey as she experiences this prophetic dream. I often think of doing parts for it, but I know I wont because I am horrible at updating my WIPs :)

Alys was dreaming.

Her mind was weaving a gossamer tapestry from the threads of her memories. 

How else could she possibly be strolling nonchalantly through the corridors of that decaying fortress if she weren't in a dream?

What she was experiencing was unreal. 

In her tangible reality, she would not be walking through the cavernous hall of hundred hearths freely.

As she emerged from the massive hall, a wispy dreamscape of the Godswood unfolded before her. She stopped for a moment to observe it and looked toward the heavens.

It had been a long time since her moss-green eyes had drunk in the tender sunlight filtering through the leaden mist enshrouding the colossal, weathered Harrenhal castle.

Her home.

Alone, she ambled along the water stream meandering through the woods, a certainty settling upon her that she was in a dream. Visiting the Godswood within the recesses of her subconscious mind, she echoed the routine she had followed since beginning to dabble in herblore.

Even in the dream, her heart brimmed with familiar peace at the sight of the centuries-old trees adorning the sacred precinct of the Godswood. Those twisted birches, aromatic pines, towering oaks, and vigilant sentinels were more than mere foliage to her; they were her kindred spirits. In the rustle of their leaves and the sturdy embrace of their branches, she had found acceptance deeper than any kin had ever offered her.

As she continued to relive a memory of her routine - gathering the herbs to brew her potions and grind her poultices - the weirwood heart-tree revealed itself in the distance.

Conspicuously standing at the emergence of the stream, it marked the point where the waters of the Trident entered the forest. A silvery-white, robust trunk cradled a sparse canopy of blood-red leaves above. The rustle of the five-pointed leaves in the breeze resembled countless blood-stained hands, beckoning her forth.

Red leaves on a silver tree. Red and silver. The two colors had often filled her visions since the doomed war for the Iron Throne began.

Realizing it had been a while since she sought solace beneath the ancient weirwood heart tree, she advanced toward it. 

But her effortless, airy steps began to turn unexpectedly heavy. An unseen force seemed to grip her feet.

As she struggled to move forward, the muffled crunching of leaves and twigs at a distance alerted her of someone’s presence. Her dreamscape wasn't the solitary realm she'd believed it to be. 

A phantasmal figure, a man, emerged from thin air and approached the heart tree wielding  either an ax or a sword - its exact form eluded her perception. The pale color of his hair - silent testament to his identity - matched the trunk of the heart-tree

She watched as the indistinct figure coalesced into the unmistakable form of Daemon Targaryen. He, on the other hand, seemed unaware of her presence. 

She knew he couldn't possibly be near her in reality. However, the smirk on his face and the hubris he exuded seemed too vivid to be a mere figment of her dream.

Perplexed by his amusement, she wondered whether he mocked the grotesque, angry face carved eons ago by the Children of the Forest on the heart tree. It was a face she had prayed to throughout her life, gazing into its hollow eyes that perpetually wept crimson tears, staining its silvery-white trunk.

As she observed Daemon gripping and lifting the blade in the air, her ethereal dreamscape began to turn red with streaks of pearly silver shining through. The pigments of the heart tree began to bleed into her surroundings. 

A reverberating sound of steel meeting the wood, echoed in the air. 

THUD

Alys gathered every ounce of her being to free herself from the invisible ensnarement that entrapped her feet. An urgency to stop him propelled her forward. But, oblivious to her presence, he struck the trunk again,

THUD

“It is blasphemous to fell a heart tree,” she said, suppressing the disdain in her voice so as to not offend a prince of the realm.

THUD

Ignoring her, as he always did, Daemon continued to batter the tree, with what she could now see clearly - an ax.

THUD

Battling the weight that seemed to anchor her feet to the ground, Alys stepped closer in an attempt to draw his attention. Speaking louder this time, she implored, "Please don't."

“You will address me as My Prince, or my blade will meet your tongue next, witch,” he ordered, still facing the tree and ignoring her plea.

THUD

“My Prince,” she said, masking the exasperation with a neutral tone of her voice, “Why chop the sacred tree when there are plenty others that could be put to use.”

THUD

“You have some nerve to question my actions,” Daemon said, finally facing her. 

“Merely trying to save you from committing a sin, my prince. The tree is…” Her words faltered when he hit the trunk again, not heeding her. A grimace surfaced at her face at the sound of the wood splintering. 

THUD

“Your forest is creeping into my castle. It needs to be controlled, as does your tongue.”

  THUD

“Your castle? Or your queen’s?” She asked, striking his Achilles’ heel, as the word ‘queen’s’ elicited two enraged, successive-

THUD

THUD

He halted, groaning and drawing a breath before turning to meet her mocking gaze. The words whirled in his mind like a tempest, displeasure flickering across his countenance. Yet, he opted not to respond to her impudent remark. 

“A thousand men are going to join the army at Harrenhal soon. The war has begun," he replied evasively as the tension seemed to seep into his grip on the ax. His fingers tightened around its helm, ready to strike again. 

Before he could hit, she took a jab at him again, “You Targaryens think of yourselves as Gods, don’t you? Only one God can reside where you are.”

Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she found herself taken aback by her own brazen remark, fearing the consequence of her audacity.

THUD

“How did you come out of your confines?” He asked, ignoring her question which had only fueled his pride. He smirked at the crunching sound of the wood tearing apart, while hers faded away in response. The smugness on his face deepened as he noticed her visibly blanched face.

His endeavors were coming to fruition.

THUD

She could not forge a coherent answer to his question. She wanted to tell him that she was indeed physically imprisoned as she traversed the realm of her dreams. But words eluded her, and despite her effort, she could not utter anything. As if the weight that anchored her feet was now extending its influence on her tongue, rendering her speechless. She was still struggling to respond when another rending blow landed on the trunk.

THUD

The ground beneath trembled with a mighty impact. Her heart sank when a cascade of leaves and twigs showered down like a gentle rain.

"No!" Alys yelled, and just then, a distant shriek from Daemon’s mount, Caraxes, reverberated through the air, piercing her ears. 

Her feet now felt as if melded with the ground, ensnared in the expansive roots of the heart tree. Mustering every ounce of strength, she moved towards him again, in a daring attempt to seize his ax. 

However, the blade in his grip was slowly morphing into a Valyrian steel sword; its pommel embellished with two silver, miniature dragon wings.

“You are coming in my way, ilībōños!” Daemon growled, raising the Dark Sister sword and shoving her to the ground. [Bastard] 

Her eyes fell upon the face carved into the heart tree, as she struggled to rise. It wasn't the face she grew up worshiping, but she recognised it nonetheless.

Somber features had replaced the terrible ones she had always known. One eye was open—hollow and weeping crimson tears; the other eye, closed and sapless.

Before she could act or stop him, Daemon, gathering all his strength, impaled the closed eye on the trunk with his Valyrian steel sword piercing it all the way through. Caraxes roared again, subduing her scream and his rider’s sinister, jubilant laugh.

Still as a stone, she watched helplessly as the heart tree fell to the ground. Blood-red leaves, torn from its branches, transformed into droplets of blood as they brushed against her.

A horrified scream escaped her lips again at the sight of blood staining her, prompting frantic attempts to rub and wipe it away, but to no avail. The stains stubbornly clung to her skin. She shut her eyes tightly, seeking refuge from the unsettling awareness.

An agonising shriek pierced the air, and she couldn't discern if it came from her or his dragon. But the sound jolted her awake, bringing her back to her reality. 

She lay sprawled on the damp floor of a dimly lit cell, imprisoned in the Tower of Widows. 

Still panting and drenched in sweat, she wrapped her arms protectively around her scantily covered midriff, where the promise of a new life burgeoned beneath her skin.

"Aemond, where are you?" she whispered, trembling, posing the question to the desolation enveloping her. The image of the somber face carved on the heart tree from her dream remained vivid in her mind.

A dream that was far more lucid than her evanescent visions in the flames.

[awakenedsalamander]

It’s been awhile, huh?

Well, Requiem’s on my mind again, so I have something to say.

I’ve previously discussed how I like the ways in which Kindred in Requiem are portrayed as more alien than one might expect— they’re warped by the Blood, made into a kind of metaphysical wound, a contradiction in terms: A living corpse.*

Kindred aren’t human anymore, not really. Humans don’t live forever. Humans don’t catch fire in sunlight. Humans don’t have the Beast gnawing at them, pushing them to kill and conquer and control. And that’s the horror, as I’ve written on and as the test makes abundantly clear: to look human, to maybe even feel human, but to be something else… it’s a nightmare, and the only way to ward it off is to act the part of Humanity, even as it decays inside you.

Maybe there’s some kind of redemption in what you pretend to be, after all.

But something occurred to me as I was rereading the corebook, which is how the Strix play into all that. For those not in the know, Strix are these shadowy owl things that very clearly have a lot in common with vampires, but unlike the Kindred were never human. And as such the Strix don’t have a pretense toward Humanity, they only bother with empathy insofar as it helps them prey on their victims, and they have no interest in compassion or justice or mercy, because all that does is shackle them.

What’s interesting to me, though, is that the Strix are shown to hate Kindred. They reserve especial anger and cruelty for their once-mortal cousins, and are said to go out of their way to torment them and show them how useless human morality is.

And like… why? Why should they care? The book mostly just says that the Strix are insulted by how vampires try to act like humans, but what difference does it make to the Owls? Shouldn’t that just mean the Strix get more mortals to prey on?

I thought about this, and I think the answer lies in the sections about how the Strix have a history with vampires. At first, I kind of read this as more Chronicles of Darkness mystery building (which I’m a big fan of!)— “the Strix are enigmatic, here’s some plot hooks about how they might relate to Kindred, season to taste, etc.”— but then I thought more about it.

If the Strix are tied to the early history of Kindred, if they’re legitimately the reason vampires exist into modern nights, if they might even be the founders of the Clans, then of course they’re insulted by vampires still clinging to their Humanity.

Think of it— in the old nights, before sprawling cities and labyrinthine conspiracies, there were outcast undead, hungry monsters without a future or a purpose. And the Strix, stepping out of the primordial dark, gave them a gift— they showed their lesser cousins the way to master their Blood and become something more. They share a bond with these vampires, and they grant them power to foster it.

And then the vampires crawl back to the mortals.

The “Kindred” pretend to be the very thing the Strix delivered them from. The Strix dragged these wretched dead out of despair to become like them, and they threw that all away to play-act at grief and penance.

So what is there to do but show them the same scorn? What else is there but disdain? What a joke, from the Strix’s perspective— to be delivered by monsters, and then to worship Humanity.

Perhaps the greater joke is this: The Owls, defined by their inhumanity, are driven by a very human motivation indeed: Jealousy.

*It’s interesting to think about this contradiction in relation to Geist. The Bound are also life and death brought together in defiance of the natural order, but they’re generally portrayed as for more human and “normal” than vampires are. The difference, I suspect, lies in the type of symbiosis at play. Geists and their Bargain are a form of mutualism, where the dead and the living agree to cooperate to resist the call of the grave. The Blood, though, infests and infects, it crawls into the veins of a corpse and forces it to rise. If the Bargain is mutualism, then the Embrace is parasitism and predation— and that makes all the difference.

[dantent]

Day 1 of ARCANEWEEN

Prompt: THE EXPERIMENT

Characters: young Silco, Singed, young Vander mentioned

Timeline: Pre-Arcane

Words: 2016

Warnings: Gore, medical malpractice

Water had never been clean in the Undercity, still, it never turned a shade of red. But that night Silco only saw the maroon color flow in the dirt, his brother’s shadow looking down on him from the bloody cloud. Death’s embrace was cold and brute, nothing like the young boy had imagined all those years ago. It was supposed to be relieving, finally free from the shackles Topside had placed on them. But with the rough palm he came to know so well wrapped around his neck and the water filled his lungs, Silco could only think about how Death was so similar to the cruelty of Zaun. Kindred would’ve got to him were it not for one last touch towards life, and it so happened that Vander kept his knife in the same place that Silco knew about. 

Though he escaped death that night, the days that came weren’t much easier. No matter how much he tried to keep himself together, Silco cried himself to sleep an uncountable amount of times; or rather cried until he passed out from the pain. The first few hours with his newly found wound were bearable, the adrenaline from running to find a hiding spot keeping him on his feet. But once it passed, there was nothing but agony left for Silco. He tended to the cut as much as he could, but with no medicine in sight, the chemicals from the river started withering his skin, eating through his flesh. Some nights he physically had to restrain himself to not scratch the wound, to not relieve himself from some of the pain. And yet his state just got worse by the days. The infection was spreading fast and he knew there was nothing he could do about it. For once in his life, Silco felt defeated, like there was no option for him to survive. He was always meant to die in a hole like a dirty rat. 

And then an arm reached for him, a doctor from an unknown origin. He had heard tales of this scientist, living somewhere hidden from the rest of the world after it cast him aside. The hand extended to him was like the light on the end of a tunnel, he took it with little hesitation; Silco was a dead man walking anyway. The scientist gave him an offer, Silco would let him experiment on his damaged eye, and in turn he would try to find a way to save his life. Being experimented on wasn’t something Silco wished to do but if there was a chance to keep on going, to live long enough to liberate Zaun, he was willing to take it. 

The doctor led him to his lab, a place smelling like decay. There was a purple glow emitting from the cave they entered and Silco wandered over curiously. A large creature stood above him, with tubes hanging out its sides. It was a faint color of white and washed out purple. Whatever it once was, it appeared to barely be alive. The young man had never seen such a being before and for a moment a tinge of fear ran through his body. He slowly turned around just enough to catch a glimpse of the doctor from the corner of his eye. 

“That is Rio.” the doctor said, back turned to Silco. 

Silco watched him intensely as the doctor set his tools down on a far away table. He didn’t trust him, but there was no other choice he could take, so he strode closer to him, begrudgingly. But as he took slow and calculated steps, he saw a mirror not too far from him. Silco stopped, turning to face the mirror. His damaged eye was wrapped in dirty cloth that he had ripped from his own shirt after making his escape. It was true that he hadn't yet seen just what his brother had caused, as there never was a chance to admire himself on any surface. 

With slightly shaking hands, Silco reached for the cloth and began ripping it from his face. It was dried to his damaged skin, tearing up the somewhat closing wound. He whimpered as he pulled it further and further, biting down so hard one would think his jaw should break. With his other hand he reached to steady the shaking arm that still maneuvered around the bloody cloth. After a long time of suffering, he finally ripped it off with a yelp. Blood flowed down his face from the cut but his damaged face was finally revealed. His skin was starting to blacken with cracks gracing the damaged surface. As he pulled up his swollen eyelid, he caught a glimpse of darkening sclera that blended into the color of his scar. A sob escaped him as he finally let go of his eyelid, shaking from the pain. 

“Are you ready, then?” the doctor spoke to him again. 

Silco turned to him with tears gracing one side of his face, while blood graced the other. His nod was barely noticeable but the doctor understood it well. Silco was led to a table with leather straps on its sides; two for his legs, two for his arms and one to hold his head down. The young man laid down with furrowed brows as the doctor strapped him to the surface. He tried to raise one of his hands but he was indeed held in place well enough. The doctor left to grab one of his tools, and Silco followed his every movement with his good eye. 

A question escaped his mouth before he could stop himself. “What’s your name?”

The doctor stopped for a moment, his head slightly turning towards Silco, before he returned his attention to his tools. For a moment he thought the doctor wouldn’t answer but after a couple seconds he spoke. 

“Call me Singed.” he grabbed a knife as he said so.

The doctor walked back to the strapped down Silco, who was starting to get fidgety on the table. He was afraid to be unable to stop anything that would happen to him from this point on. And soon his fears would turn real. Singed grabbed his face with one hand, forcing his swollen eyelid to open, while he held the knife in his other hand. 

“For further reference,” he began, knife inching closer to Silco’s eye “remember that you had agreed to this willingly.”

Without a warning the doctor began cutting at his eyelid. Silco screamed as he tried to wiggle out of his reach. But the straps and the doctor’s hand had a firm grip on him. Singed moved the knife through the damaged skin like it was butter, and chopped off parts of it to get to the boy’s eye. Silco’s fingers tried gripping onto the doctor’s clothes, desperately trying to make him stop. 

Upon looking up at the doctor, the light above his head sort of giving him a halo, Silco could only see Vander. It was him who held the knife against his face, him who made the cuts, and him who kept him in place. Silco could almost hear his voice beaming at him with cocky words, mocking his cries for help. His brother just looked down on him with cold eyes ready for murder. No one was around, no one could help Silco. 

“VANDER!” he screamed in agony. 

Was it out of desperation for him to stop, or was his brain still aware who really stood above him, making him yell for the only person who ever brought him comfort, Silco couldn’t tell. Only thing he knew was that the cutting stopped, his eyelid completely removed via the doctor's knife. Silco wiggled around, his lips trembling with fear as his eyes followed the piece of flesh in Singed hands. The doctor walked back to his own table to inspect the removed skin.

For minutes Silco only heard the sounds of his own gasps for air and whimpers from the maddening pain he felt. His wound stung as his tears covered it but he couldn’t even wipe them down because of the restraints. Soon his power began to leave him, and his attempts to escape stopped. Now he just lied on the table with an open mouth, looking at the bright ceiling. His lips were cracked from thirst as he couldn’t even bring himself to drink water in the following days of the drowning. 

Before Silco could slip into unconsciousness though, the doctor walked back to him, a scalpel in hand. Silco’s eyes drifted to the tool, and a desperate cry escaped from his throat, yet no words left his mouth. He couldn’t speak anymore; he was too tired. 

That didn’t stop Singed though, as he brought his scalpel down to the young man’s damaged skin and began cutting parts of it off his face. Silco’s fists clenched again as he desperately tried to form words but all he was left with were unintelligible, cracking noises. One small part of his skin was removed, then another and soon Silco lost his consciousness from it all. 

Everything was dark and cold, then spots of red appeared around him. This was different from drowning. From the lack of oxygen he lost part of his consciousness as well, but he felt at peace. Now all he knew was uncertainty, and fear. He was a fool for going into this willingly - for agreeing to the doctor’s terms. 

He couldn’t rest for long though, as he was awoken by a shock to his chest. Silco’s eye opened wide, and he gasped for air. The boy looked around, trying to search for the danger on instinct, but all he found was a nonchalant Singed looking down at him. 

“The experiment can only go on with the patient still at full consciousness,” he explained “or we may not come to a correct conclusion.”

Silco opened his mouth but only anguished cries came from him. He was unable to form a single word. 

“Don’t move.” was the last thing Singed said before raising a syringe to Silco’s face.

The young man’s pupils shrunk even further at the sight, trying to move away from it. But the doctor grabbed his face firmly once again and moved the syringe to his damaged flesh. A shiny purple substance was injected into him, that felt as if one thousand knives had just attacked his body. Silco screamed out in agony multiple times, his head violently trying to rip out of the hold. 

His mouth filled with saliva as he spit it all over the place in his frenzy. The table was shaking around with all his movements. He yelled unintelligible words at the doctor, his voice cracking from the sheer power. And then it all stopped in a matter of seconds. It was as if time itself had stopped after the previous attack. Silco’s eyes tried to focus back on the doctor, who was mumbling to himself. 

“Wha-t… did y-ou… do?” Silco managed to whisper.

Singed turned to look at him. “Rio has remarkable abilities, one of which you have experienced.”

The boy tried to talk again but his power had left him. 

“Curious, it has drained you.” the doctor hummed. “You should count yourself a young man full of luck. After all, you are my first subject who has survived the process.” 

“Y-ou sai-d…” he started but couldn’t finish the sentence.

“One must wonder if it is because your blood is already tainted by toxins.” 

Singed left Silco again. He walked over to his own table to view the samples of skin he had cut off of Silco. There was a moment of silence between them, only being broken from the occasional cries coming from Silco. The pain was the same as before, but the removed eyelid bothered him less now. Perhaps what the doctor did truly helped him in a way or another. 

“Don’t you worry,” Singed turned back to him, “the experiment must survive. You are on the next step for success, boy.”

On the next step for success…

[ambiguousprompts]

Prompt #61

Small flies were drawn to her: perhaps recognising in her a kindred spirit, perhaps marking the beginning of her decay.