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helloabominacion · 4 days ago

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Warning: This is going to be a long post as it covers the comics and the MCU.

People may come out of the woodworks and claim Xavier/Riri is "forced," "strange," or "came out of nowhere," but I think that's a sign they:

A) just want something negative to say to an otherwise healthy, trope-subverting, and complementary black love.

B) likely haven't read Ironheart's comics.

Xavier and his dynamic with Riri (friendship first with romantic seedlings) is not new.

Xavier is a person vital to Riri's world, wellbeing, and character development. He is one of Riri's very few grounding agents. He helps explore, deconstruct, heal, challenge, balance, and build Riri the individual (black Chicagoan teenaged girl), rather than "Riri the super genius superhero" or "Riri the arrogant troublemaker."

As Eve Ewing (writer of Ironheart Volume 1) wrote:

“Riri has always had trouble with friendship. As a young kid she was pushed ahead in school really quickly, she's sort of weird and has trouble with social cues, she's really awkward, and has often felt alienated from other people her age because her life has been so different from theirs. And, of course, she lost her best friend [Natalie] in a brutal, traumatic way.

Xavier is there to provide some regular-person perspective—not as a Super Hero, but as someone who is from where she's from, who is caring and who has her back and helps keep her grounded. And he challenges her to do something that doesn't come easily to her: building and nurturing a friendship.”

Xavier and Riri's dynamic is comfortable and close already because, besides Natalie, Xavier is Riri's closest friend.

Xavier had known and lived by her since they were little kids. So, of course, the show would convey the two have familiarity.

Xavier has already been lightly teased to have a special, possibly love-line like connection with Riri.

Xavier's first appearance is greeting an awkward Riri back at home. Ironman reveals she writes about him in her diary and that Xavier had "taken notice of her." Ironman calls this "promising" and starts to vet him out.

The obvious setup is obvious.

Xavier comes to know that Riri needs people in her corner. From then on, he sets out to remedy this. Two examples are in Ironheart volume 1, issue 3. Xavier points out that the Champions should be there to help Riri rather than plain him and he reminds her that Ronnie is doing what a loving mother does.

In Ironheart volume 1, it's set up that Riri is hard to get through to. She is closed off, still grieving Gary and Natalie, and feels as though people truly don't see her.

Right after this, the person who wakes Riri up is Xavier.

Xavier is the forming answer to this lack Riri has. Xavier sees her.

Riri is complicated, defensive, guarded, emotionally constipated, and rough around the edges. Riri is not an easy person to break through to. Many have tried, only few succeed.

Xavier was able to get through the iron-clad armor Riri wore because of how much they related. Xavier helped jumpstart Riri's character development.

Riri pushes people away. Riri does not really reach out to you, you have to reach out to her.

On the other hand, Xavier is the loyal, kind, and caring type who hangs on and pursues contact. Xavier is rather down-to-earth and with emotional maturity; a stark contrast to a more neurotic, wound-up, and emotional wreck Riri.

In other, more simpler words, Xavier is the golden retriever to Riri's black cat.

Xavier and Riri always related and connected.

Ironheart volume 1, they talked late through the night because of it. They have a fun banter. Riri gets to be what she is: a kid.

Just as Xavier supports Riri in her endeavors when no one else is, and vice versa.

"Iconic." Ring a bell?

At the same time, Xavier doesn't leave Riri at her facade. He tries to get to the real heart of Ironheart.

Riri here adorably repeats what Xavier said to her, even when he was off the phone already. She was trying to get herself acclimated to something now so foreign to her: a friend.

She now has someone who isn't just for a today interaction. She has someone who wants to and will be around.

Xavier understands Riri. He knows her complexities, her language.

That is a fact Riri even knows. She figures she doesn't need to say what she means to Xavier.

He'll get it.

Because he gets her.

When things weigh heavy on Riri, and she can't see her way through it, the person Riri can't help but go to is Xavier.

Xavier is a connection and steady presence Riri needs. He simultaneously is an emotional laxative and challenges Riri. He has her confront what she needs to confront, think about what she needs to think about. Even if it is uncomfortable.

Xavier can also disagree but still hears Riri and is unconditionally there for her. He constantly asks if Riri needs anything of him since his first appearance. He cares about her, even putting himself on the line or giving up so much of his time-energy to help her and those she loves in any way possible (e.g., he helped clean her wounds, fight zombies, detective work, him staying over to not leave Ronnie alone then getting up to defend her despite his own fear, and so on).

In the beginning of Ironheart's first run, Riri is flying a kite with Gary and Natalie (two very important, close, and beloved figures in her life). In the end, Riri flies the kite with Daija and Xavier.

Xavier became one of the figures Riri holds dearly to herself. Riri is healing, and Xavier is apart of that.

Riri/Xavier comic reading list:

Invincible Iron Man (2017) (#595 and #596)

Ironheart Volume 1 (2019)*

Ironheart (2020)*

Champions (2020) (#2 and #5)

Who Is...? Ironheart (Infinity Comic)*

Ironman (2024) (#4 and #5)

Ironheart (2025)

All of what I went over has been translated to the 2025 Ironheart show. They didn't randomly conjure Xavier and his relationship with Riri. Every aspect of their relationship is in the blueprint; it's at the heart of Riri's story. The comics are your answer to practically everything you observe in the series.

Xavier is so "regular" instead of another superhero or famous guy

That's the point. Xavier is a foil character.

Riri's main problem is self v self. She needs to unpack her damage. The problem is that Riri actively suppresses and neglects that side of her.

Riri doesn't want to feel her hurt → she shuts down.

Riri doesn't want to be small → she inflates herself to be big – maybe too big for herself to handle.

Active, loving figures stemming from her childhood, coming from the same place she came from (e.g., Xavier and Ronnie - we can add Natalie/N.A.T.A.L.I.E. too), address this. They nurture her bruised humanity. They provide her with normalcy, a home, anchoring, and fulfill all the shades of love (respectively). They embrace the parts of her she otherwise doesn't let show.

It's why Xavier and Riri specially speak in lax, blerd code to one another.

Their shared interests was one of the things that allowed them to bond. Yes, it will be conveyed and a notable staple to their dynamic.

Xavier had always repeatedly been the first person Riri calls for help. It's why Riri expected – anticipated – him in episode 5.

There is a reason why Riri contacts him to help her out of an awkward situation in episode 1. They wanted to organically introduce their dynamic from the get-go.

It is in the comics. Xavier became a trusted someone Riri would fall back on and call. For good reason: he would always show up.

It's why Xavier and Riri are so close.

Riri's hackles are the least raised with him because he knows how to defuse her. They have an unspoken language because they know each other. Xavier and Riri carry this understanding and generally open line with one another. It's why Xavier has "Riri is hiding something" or "Riri did something" senses. It's why Xavier said he thought out of everyone, she'd understand him. We see Xavier constantly and consistently support Riri. Riri also reciprocates, spending some of her first paycheck to get him new headphones so he can work more effectively.

It's why there was a point to convey Xavier frequents her home ("Go home Roger").

That wasn't a random detail slapped in by the series. Xavier canonically comes over where Riri is and hangs out. He visits her home. He does not do that to be annoying (he says how he could leave the moment he thinks Riri seriously wants him gone in Invincible Ironman). He also does that because Riri is the kind of person who is hard to catch and would lock herself away, throwing away the key.

Hence his, "I'm glad I caught you."

It's why we see Xavier being emotionally sensitive and empathetic with Riri.

Xavier purposefully, gingerly, guides Riri to confront her grief and gives her tools to grieve properly. And he could do that, because he loved and lost Natalie, too.

It's why Xavier was the one to effectively answer Riri's question of if she was a "good" person, with a phrase that mirrored her own description of herself (but more positively. Riri called herself a complicated creature while Xavier calls her a complex person).

I must stress this: Xavier is like Riri. It isn't just with (now) losing Natalie, but he too has some awkwardness. He has genius, ingenuity, and ambition he is not quite supported (or as understood) in. He comes from the same streets and experienced brutality (being a victim himself in Ironman (2024) issue 5, which Riri rescues him from).

So no, he doesn't just sympathize or feels pity for Riri like she's his charity case. He empathizes.

It's why Riri acts awkward, shy, or tentative with Xavier, at times in the series.

Not only is Riri socially awkward and reserved to begin with, but she always had her .exe crash with Xavier. She starts lamely saying "uh" or not knowing what to do with herself.

It's why, besides Ronnie, Riri gives Xavier the protection watch, with him being included in, "the people I love" line.

The only difference is that Xavier's surname is no longer "King" but "Washington," as they made him the younger brother of Natalie. A choice I did not see coming, but it only ironically strengthens his tether to Riri and the later trio of Natalie, Riri, and Xavier. It gave Xa and Ri another something to relate to each other, and specifically each other, about.

Another thing: it unlocks higher stakes and a new storyline.

With All That Being Said

Xavier is an important, cemented supporting character of Ironheart. He is a refreshing change of pace, too! Normally, the guy is the focal point and allowed to be heavily flawed or zany, while the girl nurtures and is acting as a love interest.

Ironheart flips this right on its head. Riri is the lead firecracker, Xavier is the accompanying cooling balm.

I don't care if someone doesn't care for him or "ship" them for whatever. That is their prerogative. You can just prefer them platonically (after all, that's the foundation of their relationship: they are friends first before anything.).

But to dismiss, twist, and invent problems to hate him or his connection with Riri (yet ironically graft his characteristics into other characters for Riri shipping... 😭) all because you hate he is a guy and an apparent love interest is odd. The vitriol directed to him is mad weird and immature in my eyes, to say the least.

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helloabominacion · 7 days ago

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helloabominacion · 8 days ago

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Is It Just Me,

Or ...?

Marvel..?

What's Marvel trying to say here??🤔🤔

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helloabominacion · 8 days ago

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#NaShuri 🐍❤️🐈‍⬛ Week Day 2: Soulmates

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helloabominacion · 8 days ago

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#NaShuri 🐍❤️🐈‍⬛ Week Day 5: Angst.

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helloabominacion · 9 days ago

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LOFI NASHURI short animation made by me ( a comm for @midnight-oily 💗💗 )

Happy Nashuri Week everyone!💜💚

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helloabominacion · 10 days ago

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helloabominacion · 10 days ago

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The fact that Namor indirectly told/gave Shuri his real name via his mother’s bracelet. Feels like Ryan foreshadowed Namor giving his “heart” to Shuri; That all the affections he holds as a man belong to her.

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helloabominacion · 10 days ago

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#NaShuri 🐍❤️🐈‍⬛ Week Day 5: Angst.

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helloabominacion · 11 days ago

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Pillow bird (+18)

Summary: K’uk’ulkan to eat your pussy and try to get you pregnant (+18)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/ Minors DNI, Angust, Hurt comfort, Sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Passionate sex, size difference, smut, soft!dom!, HEA, good ending, slight degradation, unprotected sex (don't do that wrap this thing), curse words, breeding kink, Namor loves to eat pussy

A/N:One day I was browsing reddit and I came across an interesting term "PILLOW PRINCESS" which refers to a person who only receives sex. I simply became obsessed with it! And I imagined myself being the little bird of the water daddy who only wants to receive sex and he, like a benevolent god, was willing to give it to me without hesitation. I hope you enjoy the delirium of a writer.

A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors.

Work count: 2.113

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Your body landed on the piles of pillows and cushions under the wet wooden reeds. You made sure to smooth out the hand-embroidery done by your servants, all to avoid looking at him.

“You’re beautiful, little bird.” He says, his voice coming out in a soft, sensual purr. You quickly catch his hidden message, a subliminal way of saying he wants to eat you.

In a single movement he throws himself at you and pulls you towards him, his lips rising to your chin and then, the kiss. His hands cup your cheek as his tongue penetrates your mouths. He tasted like honey and salt. It was intoxicating, it made you want more and more.

His hands left your cheeks to support his weight on his palms. He was getting bolder by the minute. He was still busy devouring your mouth and stealing your breath when he maneuvered his pelvis to meet yours. You broke the kiss to moan when you felt his hardness, protected by his checkered thong, slam into your wet, covered pussy.

“Do you feel it, little bird? Feel what you do to me.” He whispers in her ear, as he rubs their sexes together. “You, my little bird, can bring this God to his knees.”

“ K'uk'ulkan ” you moan. He continues the movement making you wet.

He slides one hand between your bodies and pokes your pussy over your panties, his fingers sliding up and down, teasing. But he was greedy and impatient. K'uk'ulkan was a man who enjoyed the sensual dance you engaged in before he penetrated you with his cock, but today he just wanted to bury his face between your legs and drown in your cum.

He pulls his finger away, and you protest, only to scream in surprise when he pushes his body up to kneel between your feathers. He places your knees around his waist, leaving you open, and then rips your panties in one motion. You gasp as you feel your pussy exposed. It was wet, so wet. It took little for your K'uk'ulkan to make you gush like a waterfall.

Then he goes for the final blow. He thrusts two fingers deep, sliding effortlessly past your lubricated lips. Your knees buckle, your eyes roll back, and you scream too loudly. K'uk'ulkan groans along with you, he moistens his lips with his tongue and speaks:

“Always so tight.” He sounds hungry. “My little bird can barely take my cock, but you’re a good girl, aren’t you? You always manage to take it.”

You lift your torso a little just to see his long fingers sliding in and out. His thumb brushes against your swollen, neglected clit, and you fall back against the pillows. He fucks you with his fingers and presses your clit in circular motions; K'uk'ulkan has always been good at multitasking.

“God...” You gasp as he presses against your G-spot.

“Yes! God.” He murmurs. “Pray to me, little bird. Ask K’uk’ulkan to cum.”

“I need to cum. Please, please, please. K'uk'ulkan , let me cum...."

He doesn't let you finish your prayer as his thumb speeds up and his fingers inside your pussy are pressed with more intensity. This is enough to throw you off the edge. Your lower abdomen tingles, starting from the tip of your foot to your head, and then you explode. You come, screaming and crying out for him. He continues to stimulate you as the intense pleasure runs through your body. He only stops when your body falls, relaxed, onto the reeds and the relief of tension perspires across your skin.

He pulls his fingers out and your pussy gushes with your excitement staining the sheet below. When your senses return to your body, shame bathes your senses as you realize how wet the blanket was. You realize he was smiling. The bastard was smiling after giving you pleasure and humiliating you by shamelessly exposing how good he was at making you cum. The wet sheet was proof of how that man knew how to handle your pussy.

“Beautiful,” he growls. “I will keep this sheet forever, little bird. Maybe I will hang it up to see the result of my love for you every day.”

“Stop it.” You beg in a weak voice, perhaps from shame, perhaps from pleasure.

K'uk'ulkan barely gave you time to think as he made sure to rip the thin fabric that covered your torso, he got rid of all the cloth leaving you completely exposed to him. You were planning to protest because he was still dressed - with his thong and jewelry and you were so naked. He pulls away, lifting your leg with ease and resting it on his shoulder.

“Fuck my face while I eat you, my little bird.”

“Yes...” Is the last thing you say before he puts his mouth on your pussy.

You thread your fingers through his soft, thick hair. K'uk'ulkan groans and licks your sensitive clit; the wet sensation makes you flinch slightly from the sensitization of your previous orgasm. He grips your hips and looks up at you briefly in a clear warning, "Don't walk away from me." And so you do. Your hips move forward, not as smoothly as you would like, but your lover seems to like it. Your wetness coats his lips and stains his beard with each movement of his hips, and you feel that heat building in your core.

“Oh... ah....! ” You don’t bother to formulate a sentence with his lips and tongue so good in your pussy.

K'uk'ulkan 's hands press harder on your hips, encouraging your movements, then move up towards your right breast, squeezing and groping the soft flesh and lightly pulling on your nipple. Your heart pounds in your chest as your moans turn into needier sounds. You briefly hear a groan from him as he eats your pussy, he was having so much fun fucking you so hard that he left you on the edge of the cliff. You are squirting. You scream when he uses his tongue to play with your clit.

Then the sensation comes again, but this time stronger, more aggressive. It’s as if the entire body has become skin. Each touch reverberates deeply, like a note tuned to the limit between control and abandonment. The breathing loses its rhythm. Time slows down. Everything concentrates on one point—hot, pulsing, urgent. A wave comes. First soft, almost shy… then intense, invincible. It’s as if everything physical expands in an internal glow, a sweet tremor that spreads in spirals inside. The muscles contract, the chest heaves, the eyes close—sometimes with a sound, a sigh, a moan that escapes without asking permission. And then… comes the peak. The world stops for a moment. A burst of pleasure, release, raw and complete vulnerability. Then, relief. A smile. A warmth that lingers.

He pulls out of your pussy with a wet pop. You spurt with excitement, leaving even more obvious traces of your cum on your sheets.

“Sweet little thing.” He wipes his mouth slowly as he crawls on top of you again. “Now, my little bird, I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to leave my cum deep inside you.”

You were still floating in your sweet haze of pleasure, barely able to assimilate what came out of his lips. Your distraction was so great that you barely saw him take off his thong and jewelry. When some sense – and dignity – returned to your body, your eyes could only see his large, long member; hard, rigid and dripping, crying out for attention. His cock briefly pokes your belly, leaving a trail of his excitement. Your mouth exclaims a curse when your pussy easily accepts his cock.

Thanks to your excitement, he slides in easily. But there was still a small discomfort inside. K'uk'ulkan was big. Even after so many years and so many nights of love, adjusting him could be slightly uncomfortable, but it was an discomfort that you welcomed with happiness. Even the pain he caused turned into pleasure. You curse as you adjust yourself to him. K'uk'ulkan barely gave you time, grabbing your soft thighs and keeping your legs wide open for him.

“It’s so big.” The words are out of your mouth before you can think. “So big...”

He smiles. He always smiles. He reaches out to cup your face like a false symbol of pity.

“You can handle it, my little bird. Your pussy was made to take my cock and your womb to carry my children.”

“Yes, God, yes...” and then the words are replaced by moans and screams of pleasure as her lover begins to penetrate her.

You could feel it deep in your cervix, your walls vibrating around his rock-hard cock that hit every sensitive spot. Your toes curled and your eyes rolled back; that damn feeling was taking over your body. You were going to cum again. K'uk'ulkan 's cock was thick and heavy, hitting every crevice. You felt the pressure deep inside, more intense upwards, hitting right at that spot that made you gush with pleasure. Small moans mixed with screams and meaningless babbles of pleasure.

“Cum again, my girl. Cum on my cock. Cum for your God.” He sighs, thrusting with desire this time.

You sob, you cry, you moan, unable to contain the wave of excitement that pours from your cunt. K'uk'ulkan doesn't stop fucking you, until your pussy clenches around his cock, your back arches and your breathing becomes ragged. You come, screaming for him, crying out, begging for him. Your body relaxes and a sudden wave of sleep washes over you. Coming three times had finished you off.

Suddenly your lover pulls away. You feel empty with the sudden movement and were about to protest – even though you didn’t have enough strength to do so, since he hadn’t come yet. He pulls back slightly, without saying a single word, he puts his hands on your waist, and without much gentleness turns you onto your stomach. Before you can say anything, he puts his hands on your waist again and pulls you up, placing you on all fours.

Your back arches, your hands support your weight and your thighs open to receive him again. A heavy hand slaps your right ass cheek hard . You scream. He laughs. Bastard. You can't see what he's doing behind you, but his cock slides back into your pussy.

“Kan, cum inside me. Deep inside.”

The moment those words leave your mouth, a hand grabs your hair and pulls. You are forced to look up at the low ceiling of the hut and the paintings on the wall made by K'uk'ulkan . His thrusts become sloppier and more aggressive as he rides out his own release.

“Ask, little bird... ask for my cum.” K'uk'ulkan hums and you moan louder with his violent thrusts. “Ask for my baby. Come on! Ask for it!”

"Yes yes yes ...” You babble nonsensically. “I want...I want your babies. Give them to me, K'uk'ulkan .”

The sound of your pelvises grinding against each other became even louder. His movements became erratic, he fucked you without shame or care. It hurt, but it was a good pain. Deep down - maybe not so deep down - you loved how aggressive he was when he was about to cum; thrusting his cock deep into your pussy until he spilled all of his cum without ever wasting a drop.

“Take my seed, little bird. Carry my heir.” He hums loudly. With one last hard thrust he spills himself inside you. He groans and risks sloppy thrusts to ensure nothing is lost. With the last drop spilled inside you, K’uk’ulkan pulls away and collapses, exhausted, beside you in the reeds. You gush with your arousal and his mingling inside you. Your body slumps; tired, satisfied, fulfilled. Stickiness drips down your thighs and you feel glad for it. The room smells of thick, intoxicating sex.

Aside from the body spasms, you barely noticed how quiet your lover was. When you turned around you noticed that his eyes were closed, his back was rising and falling in a calm breath, his once hardened penis lay softened and glistening with your lubrication. You smiled and allowed yourself to rest next to him, because your lover was insatiable and after the brief nap he would want to eat you again.

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helloabominacion · 12 days ago

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OH HELL YEH

Red Coral Lips

Summary: You have always been quiet, living your own life and trapped in your little world, but one day, thanks to a drink, your lips become red and beautiful, drawing the attention of the submarine.

Warnings: cuteness, love, your red lips attract the attention of the god-king, silence, introspective reader.

A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors.

Work count: 5.842

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In the deep nation of Talokan , where sunlight is a forgotten whisper beneath the dark waters, you have learned to exist in silence. The sound of your breath caught in your respirator, the cool touch of stones beneath your feet, the murmur of shells being carefully stacked—all part of your invisible routine.

You are one of the servants of Namora , the king's cousin. She is powerful, respected, admired by all. And you? You observe. You follow orders. You keep quiet. Your eyes lower when the king's voice echoes in the halls. You revere him, as everyone else does. But you never expect to be seen.

Still, you dream. Silently, like everything you do.

That day, something about Namora was different. She was finishing training with the group of warriors when her eyes met yours. You hurried to look away, but she was already walking towards you with the same confident gait she used on the battlefield.

"You look sad," she said, tilting her head slightly.

“I’m not, ma’am. Just… focused,” you replied, struggling to maintain your composure.

She arched an eyebrow. "Concentrated is a fancy way of saying the world tires you."

You looked at her, surprised by the veiled kindness.

"Come with me. I want to show you something that not everyone knows."

There was hesitation in your chest, but there was something about her invitation that felt like a gesture of affection. You nodded.

She led you through hidden tunnels, up the rocky cliffs of the great royal cavern, to a crevice camouflaged by coral and lichen. There, they both emerged—leaving their respirators and rising above the surface, where the air was thick and warm, the ceiling of the cavern shiny with minerals reflecting the filtered sea light.

Namora smiled, pulling out a small box made of translucent scales hidden in one of the rocks.

"This cave belongs to my cousin. Almost no one goes up here. But I grew up in this place. It's where adults spoke truths... and where young people came to play at forgetting them."

She opened the box and took out two small vials. The liquid inside was a deep red, shining like blood in the light.

"Ruby fruit and petal liqueur. Forbidden to young soldiers ... but we're not in training now, are we?"

You took the vial hesitantly. It seemed to pulse in your hand.

"I don't know if we should..."

"That's exactly why we should," she said, a teenage glint in her eyes. "Come on, just one sip. Maybe two. It'll make your lips shine like summer coral."

You laughed, surprised at your own boldness. And you drank.

The taste was intoxicating: sweet, warm, with a gentle acidity that made his tongue tingle. His skin felt warm, his limbs relax, his heart race.

Namora lay down on her back on a flat rock and laughed, a real, free laugh.

"You are beautiful when you allow yourself to be alive," she said.

"You too. But I already knew that."

"Ah, but you don't say that often. You look at me as if I were a distant star. Now here you are... with red lips. And they suit you."

Namora's eyes shone with freedom, hers and yours reflecting something childish, pure and deliciously forbidden.

"When you get back down there, everyone will think you kissed a sea spirit."

"Or that I was bitten by an enchanted coral," you replied, and you both laughed so hard that you lay side by side, panting.

"If he sees you like this... with those lips... he'll look at you differently."

"Who is he?"

Namora smiled, turning to the side.

"You know who."

You looked away, pretending not to know. But you knew. You knew as if your heart was silently screaming the name: K'uk'ulkan .

Back at the palace, you returned to your duties. No one noticed the lightness in your step. The breeze of laughter still stuck to your lips. The heat of the liquor still warming your veins. You believed you had kept the moment like a secret between shells.

But he forgot about your lips. They were red as velvet. Like fire. And that was what made him stop. K'uk'ulkan was crossing the hall with slow, majestic steps. As always. But when he passed you, he stopped.

"You."

The word made your entire body stiffen. You turned around, slowly, feeling the blood drain from your face.

"My lord?" His voice was low, almost a whisper. His eyes—eyes like the bottom of the ocean—landed directly on her lips. Then, on her eyes.

“There’s something about you today,” he said, his voice softer than you expected. “It’s more alive.”

You tried to respond, but there were no ready words.

"It was Namora , wasn't it?" He smiled, as if he guessed. "That girl knows how to light up the world around her."

You smiled shyly, eyes still downcast. "She just... reminded me that I can laugh."

“I hope she reminds you of that more often,” he said. And then he moved a little closer. You felt the warmth of his body. His presence. An entire world contained in an instant.

"Your lips... seem stained with blood."

Your heart was pounding so hard you almost thought he would hear it.

"It was just... a liqueur," you mumbled. "Nothing important."

"Maybe not for you. But for me... it was enough to make me stop. And that doesn't happen often."

You looked at him. For the first time. And there was a gleam in his eyes. Not of a king. But of a man. Curious. Alive.

"It was good to hear your voice," he said. "I hope she doesn't hide so much next time."

Before you could say anything, Attuma 's voice cut through the moment.

" K'uk'ulkan , the counselors await." He nodded, but before he left, he took one last look at you. And smiled.

After that day, the world seemed to have shifted slightly. The walls of Talokan no longer seemed so cold. The shells you arranged as offerings to the blue goddess had a different glow. And the corridors you once walked alone began to hold echoes of a presence—his.

But you never realized how much he already looked at you. How much he always looked at you. For you, everything seemed new. For him, it didn't.

You returned to your daily duties, believing that the conversation with K'uk'ulkan had been a kind coincidence. A gesture from king to subject. Nothing more. But then came the other encounters. Always brief. Always unexpected. And increasingly... intimate. Once, while you were arranging the ritual jade amulets, you heard his voice rise like a calm tide beside you.

"You always organize them in color order... Why?"

You jumped, turning around so quickly that you almost dropped one of the amulets.

"I... think colors have a music of their own," you replied. "And together, they tell stories. If they're out of order, the story feels wrong."

He smiled, as if savoring the answer.

"Interesting. I never thought of colors as sounds. Just as symbols. But you... always see beyond that, don't you?"

You blushed, looking away. "I guess I only see what's in front of me."

He leaned forward, looking at the amulets with his face close to hers. Then he said, in a lower tone:

"Sometimes, those who see little are those who see most."

Her hands began to shake. Not from fear. But from the heat. From the presence.

The truth you didn't know Since the first days. When you walked with your face down, carrying pots of sea salt for rituals. When you passed behind columns, making no sound. When your hands arranged ceremonial robes with an almost reverent delicacy.

K'uk'ulkan , the winged serpent god, saw the entire world through the eyes of a king. But every now and then, his eyes would rest... on you.

It was your silence that attracted him. The way you listened more than you spoke. As if you carried an ancient wisdom. A tenderness that he barely saw in the world of fighting and strategy. But he never called you. Never spoke. Until the day of the red lips.

And now... he didn't seem to want to stop anymore.

Days later, you were assigned to help prepare for the lunar ceremony. The chamber where the water was blessed was in the presence of the king. You were to leave the incense, arrange the ceremonial cloths, and leave before he entered.

But as he turned to leave, his voice reached the door before he could.

"Stay."

You stopped. Goosebumps.

"Yes, my lord."

He walked across the room, his bare feet touching the wet stone as if he were dancing on it. He approached slowly.

"Do you know the prayer they say here?" he asked.

"I've heard it a few times. But I've never recited it."

"I'd like to hear what it sounds like in your voice."

You hesitated. You never thought you would use your voice in his presence. But there was something in his eyes that wasn’t an order—it was an invitation.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and recited.

His voice was low but firm. Soft as water flowing between corals. He listened to you as if he were listening to the ocean itself. And when you finished, he said, in a tone that held the tide of contained desire:

"You have the voice of one who came from the depths."

You looked at him, trying to understand what that meant. But you didn't know how to respond.

"I... am just a servant."

"Don't say that again," he replied softly. "You carry more silence within you than many a man in battle. And silence, sometimes... is louder than the scream."

Since then, it began to appear. In simple moments. In routine tasks.

When you helped Namora train the young warriors, he watched from afar. When you served dried fruit to the councilors' tables, he was the one who noticed when your hand shook.

He always approached you naturally, but there was a tension in his gestures. As if something inside him wanted to touch your world ... but couldn't. One night, you were alone, tending the offering nets. The hall was almost empty, only the seaweed danced between the pillars of shells. And then he arrived.

"Do you always work late?"

“It’s easier to think when everyone’s asleep,” you replied, without turning around.

"Or easier to feel?"

You stopped. What did he mean by that?

"I don't know how to feel what I don't understand."

"But not everything you feel needs to be understood," he said, now at her side.

The silence between you felt thick, almost physical. As if the air and water between you vibrated at a different frequency.

"You look at me like I'm an unknown quantity," you said suddenly, without thinking.

"Because you are," he replied. "But I don't try to figure it out. Just... observe."

"Why?"

"Because there is beauty in mystery. And in you, there is a lot of it."

You felt your heart skip a beat. His words were always measured. Never vulgar. Never excessive. But there was something there, a melody between the sentences, that made you lose yourself in your own thoughts after he left.

Namora began to tease, as if he knew more than he should.

"You know you're not invisible anymore, right?"

“What are you talking about?” you said, trying to hide the heat in your face.

"Have you seen how he talks to other people? To the generals? To the priests?"

"He is respectful to everyone."

"Yes. But never... curious."

Namora held her chin, looking at you closely.

"And he looks at you as if he were looking for something he forgot... and that you carry without knowing it."

The weeks passed with the fluidity of the tides. In Talokan , nothing seemed to change … but inside you, everything was different.

K'uk'ulkan was no longer a distant, invincible, unattainable figure. He was still the serpent god, the protector, the king. But now there was a gentleness between you. A language made of pauses. Of gazes held for too long. Of phrases that seemed simple but held depths you didn't know how to touch.

And he kept coming closer.

Always subtle.

Always contained.

But always there.

One morning, you were called to assist in a ceremonial patrol of the outer reefs. It was a sacred area, guarded by sea creatures linked to ancient Talokan legends . Normally, only generals or priests participated in these communion rituals. But for some reason, K'uk'ulkan had asked you.

You hesitated when you heard the order.

"Me? I'm not a warrior. Nor a priestess."

Namora, with a smile on the corner of her mouth, said: "And even so, he wants you by his side."

You tried not to think too much about what that meant.

When she met him at the coral gate, he was wearing light armor. His gold bracelets vibrated with the energy of the sea. His eyes were calm but alive.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"I hope so."

He smiled. "The ocean doesn't require strength, just presence. If you can listen to it, it will guide you."

The journey was silent. You swam side by side through the underwater ruins covered in glowing anemones. Tiny stingrays followed your movements like gentle shadows. At one point, he reached out to brush a thick patch of seaweed out of your path, and his fingers brushed lightly against your arm. The touch lasted less than a second, but it lingered on your skin like a trapped sigh.

You tried to concentrate. But he was so close… and the sea seemed to hear everything. When you reached the sacred reef, he placed his feet gently on a rock covered in phosphorescent moss. The water there was warmer. There were gentle currents that swirled slowly around you.

"Close your eyes," he said.

You obeyed.

"Now listen."

You heard it. The sound of water. The soft crack of shells opening. The distant beating of a heart—perhaps yours.

"And what do you hear?"

"Silence. But… a living silence."

"This is Talokan . The spirit of our people. And today, I wanted to share it with you."

You slowly opened your eyes.

“Why?” you asked, your voice nearly swallowed by the bubbles.

He took a while to respond.

"Because there's something in you that doesn't need to scream to be felt. Like this place."

He stepped a little closer. The current made his hair touch hers. Their eyes met, fixed. There was something in his gaze that seemed to say more than words ever could.

But you didn't ask. And he didn't tell.

Tension hung between you like an invisible thread pulled between the tides.

Back at the palace that same night, you were summoned to the upper terrace, where water trickled in gentle drops between mother-of-pearl columns . K'uk'ulkan was there, sitting on the edge, watching the sky through an opening.

"Do you see the stars?" he asked without turning his face.

“Yes,” you replied. “They remind me that the world is bigger than I can touch.”

"Or that you are part of it, even without touching it."

You walked slowly, sitting close but keeping your distance.

“Why did you bring me to that place today?” you insisted softly.

He finally looked at you.

"For there is a time when a king must be just a man. And a man wants to know that which soothes him."

You didn't understand right away. But the sound of those words stayed inside you, like a soft echo, returning hours later, when you were already lying in your chamber, your eyes open in the dark.

"…that which calms you."

The encounters continued. Always brief. Always filled with something that had no name. Once, he touched your hair as he brushed away a petal that had stuck there. Another time, he smiled as he watched you hum to yourself as you polished your sacred bracelets. Every gesture, no matter how small, was a silent offering. And you still didn’t understand why. Why, among so many women, so many warriors, so many possible queens… he chose to be close to you.

But you knew. You knew that K'uk'ulkan had been watching you long before the velvet red lips. That he remembered the way you dove differently from the others—without making waves. That he saw your delicacy as a strength. Your shyness as a mystery.

And his silences… like verses from an ancient song that he longed to decipher.

The next few days were like sailing under an invisible current—you didn't know where you were going, but you didn't fight the flow either.

His name had come to dwell in your thoughts like a persistent whisper. K'uk'ulkan . The living deity. The untouchable warrior. But to you, now, he was more than a king. He was the man who saw you.

You began to notice the details: how he tilted his head when he listened to you, how his eyes darkened when the silence dragged on, how his presence made you feel as if the entire sea fit inside your chest.

Namora had been missing for two days, on a mission outside the palace. You, on the other hand, had received a new assignment directly from him: to take a codex of ancient prayers to the chamber of lunar crystals, in the heart of the palace. Only K'uk'ulkan and the oldest priests had access to that place.

You went with the codex held tightly between your arms, your bare feet touching the cold stone, your heart in silent turmoil.

When the door opened, he was already there.

Alone.

Waiting for you.

The chamber was made of translucent quartz walls. Water ran through the cracks in the rocks, creating reflections that danced across the surfaces like underwater constellations. The only light came from the bioluminescent algae that hung like veils.

He turned around slowly when he heard her footsteps.

"You came," he said.

You just nodded, your eyes trying to escape the intensity of his.

"Leave the codex there," he pointed. "But don't leave yet."

You looked at him, surprised. "Do you wish anything else, my lord?"

"Yes," he replied. "I wish... you would listen to me."

You approached, hesitantly.

He stood before one of the crystal walls, his fingers touching the natural veins of the stone as if they were lines on a secret map.

"Since I was young, I was taught that love is dangerous. That the king should not desire. That everything we feel should be given to the people."

You listened, your heart beating like a deep drum.

"But there are days when I find myself wanting to keep something just for myself. A presence. A look. A specific silence."

He turned, his eyes boring into hers.

"You."

The word fell into the air like a warm drop into the cold sea.

You felt your stomach sink, your entire body freezing.

"You are like a hidden reef. Most people swim over it, without realizing it. But I saw it. From the beginning. I saw the way you move. How you observe. How you care. And I wanted to... swim deep."

His breath hitched. For a moment, there was no sound. Just the drum of his heart echoing off the walls.

“But... why?” you whispered. “I’m just a... servant.”

"You are many things. But you are not 'only'. You never were."

He came closer. Slowly. Like a rising tide.

"I have watched you in silence for too long. I wanted to understand why your silence called me more than the song of a thousand voices. And now I know: it is because in it, I hear myself too."

His eyes were so close to yours that you could see the reflections of the water in them.

"You calm me down. And at the same time, you make me burn."

You opened your lips to say something—maybe to deny, maybe to doubt—but he lifted his hand and, very slowly, touched your face. His thumb brushed the curve of your mouth.

"Your lips still hold the red of that night. You don't notice. But I noticed. I always noticed."

You shivered at his touch. He wasn't hasty, nor was he rough. It was as if he was asking permission with the gesture. As if he were saying: if you don't want me to, I'll stop here. But you didn't want him to stop.

Your body leaned into him. Not in surrender, but in acceptance. Your eyes closed, and your forehead rested against his. The silence between you was heavy. He was breathing heavily, his lips almost brushing yours.

"If you'll allow me..." he murmured, his voice hoarse. "...I want to kiss you. Not as a king. But as a man."

You felt the world spin.

"Then don't ask."

And he didn't ask.

The kiss was slow, warm, almost reverent. His lips tasted of salt and promise. His hand wrapped around your waist with a gentle firmness, as if he was afraid of breaking you. And you, for the first time, allowed yourself: to feel, to burn, to dissolve.

The water around them vibrated with the energy of the moment. The seaweed shone more intensely. It was as if the sea itself surrounded them, blessing what was growing there.

When the kiss ended, he rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily.

"Now you know," he said. "It's not imagination. It never was."

You smiled shyly, your lips still parted.

"I'm not sure I know what to do with this."

"Then don't do anything yet. Just… feel."

And in that instant, you felt it. More than ever. You felt desired. Seen. You felt like the king hadn’t just noticed you now—he’d chosen you. Your bodies were still pressed together. Your chest rose and fell in a different rhythm now—fast, hot, as if the water around you was no longer able to soothe what burned between you.

K'uk'ulkan watched you in silence.

And then… he kissed you again.

This time, there was no hesitation. There was desire. A longing that had been held back for too long. His hands, which had once touched you with sacred respect, now traced your body with boldness and intent. His warm palm ran down your neck, down your collarbone, and reached your waist. He pulled you closer, fitting your curve into his with ease. The kiss became deeper, more urgent. Your skin, even covered by the thin fabric, felt every line of his hand—the heat, the firmness, the want.

You moaned softly as he ran his hands down your back and firmly pressed your hips against his. Your body reacted instinctively: your fingers closed around his shoulders, your legs gave way slightly.

K'uk'ulkan held his breath for a second, his eyes half closed, and said against her mouth:

"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"

You couldn't answer. Your body knew, even if your mind tried to deny it.

His hand moved up the side of your body, circling your breast with his open palm, his fingers touching with the courage of someone who respects but desires. He devoured you with his touch, with his gaze, with his own body pressed against yours.

But that's when you walked away.

In a quick, firm, necessary gesture.

“No,” you said, your heart beating like a furious drum. “Not like that.”

He stopped, panting, his eyes still filled with the hunger he could not satisfy. But instead of protesting, he smiled. A man's smile—not a god's.

"Maybe I'm getting old… and in too much of a hurry."

You shook your head, face flushed, breathing heavy.

"It's not that. You're not rushed. You're… intense."

"Ah. A veiled compliment."

"It's just…" you looked away, feeling the ground shaky beneath your feet. "I was raised to understand the value of my body. Of my touch. And if I'm going to give myself to someone, I want it to be within a commitment. Within something… sacred."

He frowned a little, but his eyes were shining—maybe surprise, maybe admiration.

"Are you... proposing to me?"

His reaction was immediate—he nearly stumbled back, eyes wide.

"No! I— no! That's not what I— I mean, it wasn't a demand! I just meant that… that…"

You were stuttering, your hands shaking , your face burning. You were completely disoriented. And he was laughing. Really laughing. A low, warm, enchanted laugh.

He cupped her face in both hands and kissed her lightly again—this time with gentleness. His lips didn't seek to set her on fire. Just to comfort. To soothe.

" Shhh … no need to explain."

"But I didn't mean to seem like—"

"You haven't done anything wrong. You're just protecting what's precious. And there's no shame in valuing yourself."

He kissed her forehead.

"What you want is not too much. It will never be too much."

You closed your eyes, feeling his words sink into your skin like the sun's warmth into cold water.

"You are strong, even in your shyness. And that's why... you are more than right in choosing who you will give yourself to."

There was a pause. He looked into her eyes—as if he were saying something he wasn't sure he should say yet.

"It's time for Talokan to have a queen."

Her lips parted, her eyes filled with tears.

"A queen?"

"Yes. One that doesn't shout. That doesn't impose itself with its voice ... but with its soul."

He smiled with deep affection, as if he were holding a secret.

"A queen as beautiful and silent as the corals."

You felt the ground crumble, the sea open, time stop.

Maybe that was what love was: a god bowing before a woman…not to dominate her, but to honor her. And that night, even without more kisses, without bare skin, without consummated pleasure—something inside the two of you came together. A desire. A promise.

And a wait that, instead of cooling down, only made the heat grow.

Night fell like a blue velvet blanket over Talokan , the starlight reflecting on the calm surface of the sea that surrounded the sunken city. You were at home, in the modest room you lived in, feeling the gentle weight of another day of tasks accomplished. The distant murmur of the water intertwined with the silence of the night.

When the first sounds echoed—a succession of trumpets made from seashells—a shiver ran down his spine. The omen was clear: something big was happening.

firm voice but always worried eyes, was the first to stand. The expression on his face changed as he looked at the gate. “That’s him,” he said, with a mixture of reverence and uneasiness. “ K’uk’ulkan .”

Your heart raced. The serpent god. The king who had always been in the shadows, watching but distant. The same one you barely dared to look in the eyes.

When he appeared, it was as if the sea had taken on human form, enveloped in a deep glow, and even with all the grandeur, there was an intense calm in his presence.

You felt your hands shaking, your mouth dry, as he approached with silent steps, his gaze fixed on you.

“Little choir,” he began, his voice firm yet soft, “I come today to ask for your hand. Formally.”

The world seemed to go silent.

His mother stepped forward, surprise evident on her face. His father frowned, his hands clenched, and his voice was firm but filled with genuine concern.

“If that is her will...she will have my blessing. But understand, K'uk'ulkan , this changes everything for our family.”

You couldn't think straight, time seemed to slow down. A whirlwind of emotions churned inside your chest: fear, doubt, hope, desire and a silent fear of the unknown.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” his voice broke on the first word. “It’s all so fast...”

He knelt down, a gesture he never expected, holding his hands reverently.

“I know we are not just king and servant. We never were. From day one, you have illuminated my darkness. I want this to be no secret. I want it to be forever. I want to be your companion, your guardian, your love.”

You felt tears well up, a mixture of joy and fear.

“But what if I fail you? If the world forces us to be two strangers?”

“There will be no failure,” he replied, his gaze steady and tender. “I will be by your side, always. In every storm, in every calm.”

Your chest tightened. You knew the answer was within you, despite your doubts.

“Yes... I accept.”

In the weeks that followed, everything in Talokan seemed to revolve around the upcoming union. Preparations began quietly, but with an ancient urgency.

The day of the ceremony dawned with a clear sky, the waters reflecting a crystal blue that seemed like a promise. The streets were decorated with garlands of sea flowers and candles floating in small boats made of leaves.

You were dressed in a huipil woven especially for you—a handiwork that seemed to tell the story of your journey. The white fabric was embroidered with patterns that imitated the waves of the sea and the scales of divine serpents, all in gold and deep blue threads.

quetzal feathers , delicately intertwined, reflecting the light like submerged stars. Her feet were painted with red paint, symbolizing life, blood and commitment.

As you arrived at the temple, a sacred hall carved from living stone, you felt the weight of ancient history. The air was thick, scented with copal and resin incense, and the walls were covered with inscriptions and reliefs that recounted the deeds of Talokan's ancient kings and queens .

The priests, wearing white robes with blue and gold accents, began to chant ancient chants, their voices resounding in the sacred space, reverberating like waves.

In the center of the temple, a circular stone platform surrounded by a thin layer of crystal clear water was prepared for the ritual.

You and K'uk'ulkan stood there, both barefoot, feeling the connection of earth and water. Hands joined, you dipped together into an obsidian chalice moistened with sacred water and leaves from the ceiba tree , a symbol of life and the connection between heaven and earth.

The priest declared, in a tone that seemed to dance with the melody of the sea:

“Just as the river meets the sea, two souls meet in harmony. May the water that surrounds you be a witness to the union that transcends time. May the solid ground be the basis for the love that grows strong and unshakable.”

You exchanged deep glances—there were no longer kings or servants, but two beings connected by something much greater.

The celebration was a feast of colors, sounds and flavors. Traditional dances mixed movements that imitated waves, fish and sacred serpents. The music — a mix of drums, flutes and chants — seemed to call the stars to witness the union.

You were surrounded by the women of the kingdom, who offered you necklaces made of shells and pearls, painting the palms of your hands and feet with natural dyes, symbols of fertility, protection and strength.

Namora was at his side, her eyes shining with emotion:

“You are more than the silent sister to us all now. You are the queen Talokan deserves. I admire you.”

You felt a lump in your throat, the warmth of a friendship that had grown in silence and now blossomed into joy. K'uk'ulkan watched from afar, his gaze full of pride and silent passion.

As night fell, the music grew softer, the guests began to disperse, but you and he remained. He approached, his voice low and enveloping:

“My queen, are you ready for our last dance... our most private one?”

You smiled, feeling the heat rise to your face, and held out your hand.

Together, you walked down the corridor adorned with flowers and shells, towards the chambers where your wedding night awaited you.

The silence that surrounded them was filled with unspoken promises, contained desire and an intimacy that was only just beginning.

You enter the temple's private chamber, a space shrouded in soft shadows and dim lights that dance across smooth stone walls covered in blue moss that exude a subtle marine scent. The air is fresh, but charged with that silent electricity that only the most important moments can carry.

In the center, a bed of sea leaves and fine fabrics rests, like a promise of surrender. The fragrance of aquatic flowers mixes with the growing heat of the body that pulses within you. He remains for a moment by your side, his eyes fixed on yours, so intense that they seem to see into your soul.

With a delicate gesture, he brushes a lock of hair away from your face, letting the touch of his warm skin send a shiver down your spine.

His voice, low and hoarse, whispers:

“You are more beautiful than the stars I have ever seen reflected in the sea. I wish I could spend eternity unraveling your every secret.”

You feel your body responding to the silent invitation—your heart pounding, your breath shallowing.

He approaches you slowly, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that starts out soft, almost a velvet whisper, and grows more intense, more urgent. His hands boldly explore the curve of your waist, sliding over your skin, awakening every inch of you.

But the moment your skin feels like it’s about to melt together, you pull back—not out of fear, but because you know what’s between you deserves respect. He smiles, a smile that’s half mischievous, half knowing.

“I’m too old and in a hurry,” he says, in a light, almost playful tone.

You raise an eyebrow, countering:

“You need to respect that I am more than a wish, and that this act should only happen after marriage. Not before.”

He laughs, a deep sound that reverberates in the room, and teases:

“Ah, my queen, imposing marriage? That is the most fun way to trap me.”

You blush, your heart almost jumping out of your mouth. You stutter, trying to explain, the words coming out in shaky whispers, almost a secret:

“It’s not that… it’s just… I just… I want it to be special. To be ours.”

He interrupts her with a soft kiss, putting calm into every touch.

“Nothing you have asked for is too much, and I admire your strength, your light that never goes out. It is time for Talokan to have a queen as beautiful and silent as the corals.”

They were even closer now. He whispered your name, and you smiled. The air grew thicker, charged with electricity. He kissed you like he did everything else. Love, possessiveness, and power. His lips were firm and soft, claiming yours without leaving room for hesitation.

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