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deluxewhump · 6 months

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Erik's Journals pt 1 (2011)

Note on this project: This is a companion piece to Carlo's story. It is an epistolary mea culpa (of sorts) of the series antagonist, Erik Holstrom. It can be read as a stand alone work. The main themes are legalized slavery referred to as a "pet" trade, and the ensuing psychological and emotional mistreatment of a character, often when said character was a minor. Entries range from when Erik's pet was eleven until he is in his mid twenties. Chapters are marked by year and month of entry. Readers may find themes, content, and the moral relativisms of the narrator disturbing. 46k words.

Content Warning for entire series: institutionalized slavery of a minor (11-18), emotional abuse and manipulation, dubious comfort, pet whump, disordered eating, violence, guns, mutilation (off screen, no main characters), corporal punishment, sexual content/dubcon ( character is 18+), broken bones, death of a parent, unreliable narrator

Journals of Erik H, regarding Carlo H. Sent to Max S. Baltimore, Maryland. November 2018

What is Yours Will Always Be

another note: For anyone who read Carlo’s story; Erik’s journals deviate quite often from the original version of events. The idea to revisit it at all last winter came from a strong desire of mine to develop Erik from a background whump villain who would keep a boy in a cage and never call him by his name in nine years into a more sophisticated character who blames his own evils on the systems that created them.

This was both a new challenge and a way to offer insight into why Carlo struggled with such powerful vestigial feelings of loyalty and homesickness toward his old master, which I think is a major theme of his story. Thank you and I hope you enjoy (or enjoy not enjoying).

June 2011

I will record here the various instances and worthy notes regarding Carlo Holstrom, pet, age eleven, acquired and taken into my supervision June 1, 2011.

I had no intention of buying a pet until I laid eyes on this one last week in California. I had spent the long blue evening on a poolside patio with two colleagues, sipping white rum drinks under skinny palm trees. Our talk always circled back to work, as it does among colleagues.

As to why I was in Palo Alto, I co-own a shipping and logistics company with a long time friend of mine, Martin Olson. O&H (Olson & Holstrom), as an LLC, has eighteen hundred trucks on over three thousand popular commercial shipping lanes at any time, day or night, throughout the U.S. and Canada. This California trip was planned months ago to meet with the CEO and CFO of one of our most prolific and loyal customers, a dry goods chain that supplies every major grocery store in the south and southwest.

I was going to return to my hotel balcony early with a drink in hand. That was until I saw a bloated, eager man with gin-blossomed cheeks making his way past the koi pond and tiki bar, up the attached wooden stairs to the card rooms and billiard tables on the second floor. He had in tow the most beautiful boy I had ever seen, wearing a cheap state-issue collar and a look of tempered but unmistakable fear. Despite the boy’s long strides trying to keep up and obvious attempts to anticipate the man’s every move, the man was yanking him along by the wrist, as if he expected resistance and was too stupid or too drunk to see he was not being met with any.

I paid my tab and followed them upstairs until I spotted the man’s broad, sweat-darkened back at a card table. I made brief eye contact with the boy, reaffirming the fear and uncertainty I’d seen downstairs. He soon dropped his eyes. I sat down at the same table and asked the man what he was drinking.

I knew from his car-salesman smile and his bloodshot eyes what he was here for, the cheap collar on the young pet was another gleaming clue. It was the same material as a hospital bracelet, steel gray and marked on one side with a discharge stamp. My limited knowledge of how the state dealt with those given up to pethood led me to believe he was fresh from a state home, or some sort of correctional facility. Did they have juvenile correctional facilities for pets? Most were at the very least fifteen, I couldn’t imagine a boy his age in one.

Two sweating Coronas arrived and the cards were dealt. I watched the frightened child until he felt my gaze and met my eyes again. I held it and nodded hello. He was leaving there tonight with me, and I think he and I both knew it, though his keeper did not yet.

It took me three hours and twelve thousand dollars, along with a considerable bar tab. But he left at my side. I did not pull him alongside me like a reluctant dog on a leash. I didn’t have to.

I requested a folding cot and extra linens from the front desk. With them I made him a soft bed between the television set and the balcony. God only knew when he’d last been fed, so I ordered soup from room service, which he ate by dunking the crackers it came with in the broth and eating those. He nursed a can of ginger ale like it was a security blanket.

Only once did I put a finger under his chin to encourage him to look up at me. “Don’t be afraid,” I told his solemn dark eyes. “Everything is alright now.”

July 2011

I brought him home with me to Maryland. My property is a gated and green six acres punctuated with several very old oak trees, in the southwest of what they call the Valley. Our portion of the Valley is the berg of Foxfollow, in the suburbs of Baltimore.

The house, which I bought to be near our new O&H headquarters in ‘05, was built in 1870, replete with crown moldings, brass accents, the original paneled doors with their crystal knobs and ornate skeleton key mortises, carved bannisters, gleaming mahogany floors and stone hearths. The beams in the west living room are wood from the original Baltimore train station, earning the house a plaque sent to me by the Maryland historical society. On paper it’s a six bedroom brick colonial, three full baths and two half, a generous back porch, an office downstairs and library upstairs, two living rooms, and a solarium that faces east I call the music room, on account of the piano I’d found a home in there. From those easterly windows one can see the city skyline at night, though from anywhere else on the property it feels as if we are in the middle of the country.

Carlo’s file has been difficult to obtain from the state of California, as his previous owner seems unreachable to give consent to release it. Maybe he finally hanged himself in the closet of a Motel 6. There are several regulations blocking my acquisition of the file by any simple means, courtesy of the state of California and its impressive labyrinth of bureaucracy.

It will have to wait a few weeks, and then can begin an appeal process for it. Without file or title, though, I can tell you the boy is well mannered, healthy and bright. I had him tested for aptitude. He has an eleventh grade reading level and shows basic understanding of fourth grade math, if lacking any practical application. He does not give any outright indications of having been physically or sexually abused, as per a pediatric psychiatrist. He understands his position, and does not seem to covet any other, or think himself above his station.

Understandably, he fears returning to a state home, does not enjoy crowds, noisy places, or other children, and is timid around my dogs (perhaps because they are hounds, excitable and vocal. This is alright though, as they do not come inside the house).

Carlo has wavy, unruly dark hair and expressive black eyes, a button nose that is slightly broad at the dished bridge, and olive toned skin. He is only little, but he has both an androgyny and racial ambiguity about him I think he will grow into nicely, though I am in no rush for the baby fat to melt from his cheeks, as I am finding it is endearing to me.

August 2011

The file shows just the one previous owner, the one trying to flip him for a profit like a beachfront property. Before that, group state homes.

Titers show proof of MMR, Varicella, Polio, and Tdap vaccinations. Mother: Luca, Chiara. Deceased. Father unknown. No known siblings or relatives. Birthplace - Palo Alto, California, 2000. Blood type O+.

The surname Luca is Italian, or often Romanian, but could be from any number of places, belonging to any number of diaspora. It also could be a maiden or married name, and is not necessarily the boy's blood relatives anyway.

Carlo is adjusting well. I try to imagine how it feels to be in a new place as a pet. I can’t quite, but I can at least grasp at it just by employing my best empathy. I try to remember being so young, and there’s certainly memories, but it is difficult to remember how my mind worked, how each day felt. I remember how I felt about my sister and my friends and my father and homework. I remember learning to shoot a rifle that year, wondering if it would not blast apart the slender hares on our property and make them useless for pelt or stew. I remember trapping one and giving it to Mathilde as a pet.

My father wouldn’t let anyone shoot anything in a trap. Did I understand that? Did I resent him for not letting me pull the rifle to my shoulder and blow it apart at close range? I can’t remember my inner thoughts. Only facts that were catalogued as if by someone else.

With him, I try to be diplomatic and easy to get along with. Clear instructions and kind words. I bought him a new wardrobe with plenty of comfortable cotton, complete with winter coat and boots he won’t need for months yet. I put a writing desk in the bedroom I gave him, as he seems inclined to bookishness and already has several notebooks, a sketchbook, and a few paperbacks among his personal possessions.

He took a liking to a painting I had hanging in the dining room, a framed John Moore. I noticed him studying it more than once as we ate our dinner at the table in relative silence, interrupted only by Anna returning to refill my wine.

In the landscape, a castle sits atop a craggy hill lit by silver moonlight that shines through wisps of cloud. In the still bay at the base of the hill is an anchored ship, with rowboats deploying a dozen passengers towards the dark shore. I told him the name of the painting, Lindisfarne Castle and Abbey, Holy Island, by Moonlight, and asked him why he liked it.

“Because it’s quiet,” he said. “But it’s almost got a sound.”

“What sound is that?” I asked, and he looked at me to first make sure I wasn’t teasing him. Encouraged by my earnestness, he replied, “A humming. Like quiet, but louder.” A few days later, I had it moved to the wall in his room above his desk.

September 2011

Carlo has tutors in math, science, and English. I took him into town and had his hair cut, for it was starting to hang in his eyes like the mane of a colt. He looks like a wavy-locked Tsarevich now.

He contracted the flu last week, and I had Dr Amalfi come by the house. It was treatable with tamiflu, soup, and as much fluid as I could get him to drink. I set a cool cloth on his forehead when he was hot and a heating pad on him when he was cold.

He vomited right in his bed the first night he'd fallen sick, and had unfortunately been lucid enough to realize he'd done so. Bright-eyed with fever, he begged me forgiveness and to leave it for Anna, tomorrow, but I'd already stripped the vomit-splattered blanket and sheets into a pile. "It's fine, sweetheart," I told him, taking his soiled pajama shirt from his clammy, reluctant hands. "Go wash up, and let me take care of this. I want to get some medicine in you."

Even when he returned clean, with fresh sheets and comforter ready for him, he'd been unwilling to meet my eye. Perhaps I should have let him strip his own bed, but his temperature had distracted me too much to even think of it.

I sat on his bedside trying to get a fever reducer and tea into him, and told him how I’d been a medic in the army many years ago, before he was born. To be squeamish about a little accident such as his was not within my scope of understanding, I said, after the manner of things I’d been up to my elbows with in Iraq and Kuwait. I do think that, delivered with an air of nonchalance, made him feel slightly better.

It did not happen again, as far as I know, though I left a bowl by his bedside.

The morning his fever broke, I checked on him when I woke. I found him sleepily watching television, and I was relieved.

November 2011

Last week I punished Carlo for stealing chocolates from my office. They were a gift from a visitor, some pretty truffles in a pretty box. I would have given the lot to him if he asked. The sweet is not the point, but the theft. I believe he thought I wouldn’t notice, as they’d been sitting there at least a week. After he did it I wondered if I had subconsciously laid it as a trap. No, I didn’t think so. I was genuinely surprised when he’d taken one without asking. He admitted to it immediately, which was brave at least.

Come, I'd called him, and bade him lean his forearms on my desk. I struck him only once, swiftly, on the back of his legs like a 19th century Headmaster. He cried, more from embarrassment than pain I think, as I have never hit him. Afterward, I explained why to him again, which I think only further embarrassed him. He understood perfectly well, and reiterating what he'd done wrong was only insulting his intelligence. I am hoping it is not an incident often repeated.

The following Monday, I called him into my study, a room he'd avoided ever since the incident. He glanced about the desk nervously, looking for a clue of some new transgression he might have committed. “You’re not in trouble,” I assured him. “Don’t be skittish.”

I gifted him a new ipod touch and a pair of headphones, as well as a desktop speaker that it docked into the top of to charge and play aloud. He looked disbelievingly at the box in his little hands. "If you need help setting it up let me know," I told him. "Or Anna, she's good with these things. What do you say when someone gives you a gift?"

He hurried to find his tongue to thank me.

Yesterday Mathilde brought some friends by for dinner. I had Carlo assist my paid help to serve drinks, entrees, clean up, etc. It’s good and helpful for him to at least be comfortable with that element of pethood.

At one point two of Mathilde’s guests (for though they were in my house, they were not mine) got into a heated argument at the climax of which a glass was broken. The two involved in the argument, a rather soused woman named Natalie and her antagonist Ben, stormed off to clean her dress of spilled wine. Little Carlo came forward to pick up the shards in his bare hands until I clicked my tongue at him, gesturing for him to leave it and come by me.

“Let one of the staff get it, honey,” I said to him from across the table. “I don’t want you getting cut.”

He came and stood by my chair as I’d beckoned and shifted his weight to his other foot, unsure what to do with himself or his hands.

“Look for anything that needs clearing whenever you are headed back to the kitchen anyway,” I said near his ear, like the advice was conspiratorial. “Efficiency is key in most things.” Quite seriously, and I think grateful for the clear directive, he took my empty plate and two others with him to the kitchen.

In a spirit of such softhearted warmth that it was foreign to me, and probably in apology to how the incident with the truffles transpired, I have designated a drawer in my kitchen to be Carlo’s, and filled it with things I’ve noticed he liked, sweets and peppermints and truffles. I told him it was his, and to take anything from it any time he liked.

I want him to obey me with unquestioning haste when I do ask something of him. For the rest of the time, I don’t want him to walk on eggshells. I want him to see this as his home.

He may as well, since it is.

#whump of a minor #slavery (whump)#pet whump #unreliable narrator

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wrennnies · 1 month

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HEY TUYS IM NOT DEAD

so in the last month ive been on holiday and then got sucked into inazuma eleven, since i was alresdy playing it ill give a short summary of what i thought (plus inaxuma eleven 2) and also the anime!!! (though shorter bc i watched it in a dub of a language i barely know) ill try and play all the inazuma eleven 3 games, i only watched the first season of inazuma eleven go tho.

inazuma eleven 1: it was great!!!! unfortunately ive been endeared to bobby shearers. also i thought the erik plotline went nowhere but i was supposed to get him before kirkwood.... the last battle i beat by mere happenstance, whoops!!! i lovedit tho. ALSO someone pls answer this: are zeus like.... genetically modified humans????? cuz it neverr gets answered, ray darks way of speaking was SO VAGUE. like is the research abt the boys or the steroids????

also nellys so cool i love her. the anime was super cool, but i was confused with its 127 eps since i only played the first game so i thought it mightve been like some anime only stuff??? turns out theres more than one inazuma eleven game.

i think the anime adapted the game pretty well, from what i could understand but i thought celia was way meaner abt jude in the game??? idk if its bc she has the “im gonna end ur life” face all the time in that game that made me think that though.... probably since shes like way more "innocent and cute" in the second game (todd ironside is so wrird i HATE HIMM in the first game)

anyway inazuma eleven 2!!!!!

great game, i called shawn shibuya since i didnt know his english name, or his Japanese one for that matter. the reason i chose shibuya was because i played twewy right before seeing him, and he looks like a shibuya.

speaking of which, i had some names for the people i didnt know the names of!! heres a list of the more interesting ones:

shawn: shibuya

victoria: peach (because her name sounded like peach in the localisation)

sue: girl inlove with erik

dvalin: hades (he looked like a hades)

hurley: dry sea (same reason as victoria)

darren: knockoff mark (look i didnt know anything abt this guy)

knockoff axel (i dont remember his name im sorry but his hairs kinda styled the same way????)

archer: giacomo????? giakomo???? i literally have no idea who or ehat a gyacomo is i just saw him and said "giackomo" SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHO GIACOMO IS, maybe i mixed gakupos name and komo os name together???? but WHY????

camilla: kori (i played time hollow before this and they looked kinda similar)

anyway back on task i really liked the girls, even if they got their ass kicked most of the time... like everyone else 😭😭 also jack was so sexist like WHATTT least mark was like yeah u come over here NOW.

the love stuff was cool, i savestated to ge everyones dialogue lol... i think my favs either toris or celias, its hilar that they dont even CONSIDER celia to be gf material 😭😭😭 but thats fine with me, love her. i liked how nathans mental breakdown was done in the anime betterr than the game since he left himself and bot bc he got the shit beat outta him. also SHAWN FROSTE. KIND????? HE CALLED CLOISTER DIVINITY "CLOTH EARED BEGGARS" AND TOLD SOMEONE THAT THEY HAD A FACE ONLY A MOTHER WOULD LOVE FUCK YOU MEAN KIND???? blunts more accurare i think. hes also scottish so i thought hurleyd be welsh since shawn was scottish and hes north uk so i thought west would be welsh... even if that makes no sense. AND SOUNDTOWN IS SO FUNNY like "hed kill the coach to get that key" lmao???? some of the character sprites are.... interestinf!!!! victoria definitely looks better in the anime 😭😭😭

nah but to learn that these orphans were just cosplaying their ocs while bombing schools is insane LIKE THET GET NO REPRECUSSIONS???? THEY DESTROYRD SCHOOLS ANDI KNOW THEYRE ALL LIKE 12 BUT STILL???? also dvalin is such theatre kid, they ALL ARE.

aliens destroying the world via football is honestly so level 5 i think they found their footing.

linas eng voice does NOT suit her LMAO itsl like a teenagers voice like thats a grown ass woman bro

caleb is cool tho love his insane sprite

like did jordan EVER apologise for destorying a bunch of schools??? i prolly shouldnt say bombing cuz they werent bombs...

also i thouggt for SURE this franchise would be more popular like ONLY 2,861 FICS ON AO3 FROM A SERIES THAT LARGE????? FUCK OFF... LIKE PROFRSSOR LAYTON HASLIKE TEN THOUDAND OR SMTH STUPID??? and i also need to know which game i can recruit professor layton to football fight with me

and jordan was done SO DIRTY in sesson 3 LIKE NOOO COME BACK :(((((

and i thought axel x mark would be WAYYY more popular than it is???? like i cant believe caleb x jude is the most popular thing on ao3 😭😭

also i cant believe jordan and xavier adopted kariya and its ONLY MENTIONED IN THE DISCONTINUED GACHA GAME???? like isnt that breaking SOME sort of workplace relationship rule?????

im glad to see nelly and mark together, tho it makes me a bit sad to think what silvia wouldve thought bc she def was there when it happened, i also read some of the fandom pages for them and he gets married to camilla in an au???? like GOD silvia cant catch a BREAK

also go was really good!!! hate that pikachu fucker though. /j they got people that arent british!!!! and i got spoilt via my sister. cant believe hurley whirley wasnt in season ine tho wtf. caleb also lookslike a middle aged mother when hes older lmao. i also hate that fuck ass dog for a moment i thoight he was gonna start talking like a certain other level five dog i could name, SHERLY.

and im guessing tenma isnt in orion bc hes dead since axel wasnt alienating himself to save him that time....

i got spoilers and i thought that shawns dead bro was actually alive 😭😭😭 in inazuma eleven

descole and stahnguns secret love child is also cool, love the new captain even if hes rich and plays piano

and i think thats it!!!! thanks for reading if uve read this far lol

#wrenplays #inazuma eleven #inazuma eleven first playthough #inazuma 11 #inazuma 11 spoilers #inazuma eleven go anime #inazuma eleven anime #wrent

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hydroidmedusa · 1 month

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I wrote this scene for my DQXI post-Act III fic so that I could cope with the existence of Act III. 😭😭😭

SPOILER WARNING for Dragon Quest XI Act III:

“Do you ever feel like none of this is real?”

Erik’s brow furrowed. “Well… Sometimes I feel like all of this is too good to be true. [...] Sometimes I worry that I’m going to wake up, alone and forgotten, in a dark cell, and realize this was all a dream. Is that what you’re talking about?”

Eleven shook his head. “Not exactly.” He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times as though he was about to continue, but the words died in his throat. Finally, he shook his head again and said, “It’s difficult to explain. I just keep thinking about them. I hope they’re okay.”

Erik raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Them?”

Eleven nodded. “You know… from the other time.”

El rarely brought up the other timeline, the one he had bravely left for the sliver of a chance he could save Veronica in this one. Erik had so many questions at first, but Eleven had refused to answer them, each time belligerently continuing in whatever labor he was engaged in when the question was asked as though he could not hear it. Over time, Erik had stopped asking. After all, he understood what it was to keep a secret from those he loved the most. Certainly, El had his reasons, and Erik wouldn’t burden him with inquiries.

Over the last several years, Erik could swear he had glimpses, memories even, from that timeline, though he kept these secret for fear they were false memories. They would play over and over in his dreams and sometimes in his waking moments. El reaching for the Sword of Light, Jasper blasting him with a darkness spell, the lot of them felled one by one at Jasper’s hand, useless against the dark barrier protecting him. The visions were less concrete after that—darkness covering the land, fighting the monster that controlled Mia, the feeling of flesh turning to gold as he embraced her, the all-too-short grieving period for Veronica's loss, the forging of a sword, the feeling of elation upon Mordegon’s defeat. He remembered a temple and a mysterious entity, though he could not remember the form that entity took nor what it said. He remembered what he said, though, right before the Luminary departed through that gate, never to return.

“See you on the other side.”

Eleven flinched and gaped at Erik, eyes wide.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it? Right before you stepped through that gate?”

“How did you—? I never told you…”

“Well, I think I can say the guy who told you that is okay. Because I’m pretty sure that guy is part of me now. I mean, he had a rough go of it after you left. Everybody did. But we knew that if you stayed, you couldn’t live with that decision because you’re too damn good. So we held on to what we had—each other.”

Eleven clutched Erik’s hands in his own and looked expectantly into his eyes.

Erik squeezed El’s hands and continued, “I haven’t talked to the others about it because I didn’t know whether the memories were real or not. I mean, it sounds crazy, doesn’t it? But if I really did remember what I said to you in that dumb temple… well, maybe it isn’t so crazy after all.” Erik shook his head and chuckled, “I know it sounds sappy, and don’t tell Veronica I said this, but… I think maybe our bond crossed the bounds of time and brought us back together. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case for every one of us. We loved you and Veronica too much to stay behind for good.”

#dragon quest xi #dqxi #dqxi act iii #dqxi act iii angst #dqxi erik #dqxi luminary #dqxi veronica #luminerik #my writing #dqxi fanfiction #it's gonna be a long time before this thing is finished #but i had to share this anyway

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butterflyintochains · 2 months

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Of All They Survey

A sequel of sorts to 'The Power Couple Contest'. When last we left our four chaotic hockey men in that story, the team were first in the Metro division by a country mile, and fourth in the league overall. Partly because of four unhinged nutcases with a point to prove. So, naturally, they've made the playoffs! Having beaten Carolina in five in the first round, and gotten through Washington in the second.

We pick up the story in game six of the Eastern Conference Final. And, we go forward from there.

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Today has been the longest day in the team's lives so far, and it's only eleven in the morning. They so wish they were at home so they could hang out at PPG Paints all day. But, they're in Toronto, sitting on a 3-2 series lead in the Eastern Conference Final, and desperate to just get on with this last game. Currently, the core are just back from a gym session, and are watching some footage in a media room at the practice rink they're using. Kris is taking notes like a college student, so is Sid. Erik watches his last shift with Marcus again to see how they pulled off an assist on Bunting's goal. ''Can we see that clip of Drew's goal too, Sid?'' Geno asks.

Sid nods, and scans through to that play. They take notes on that, spotting a breakdown in the communication between Beavillier and Acciari that led the Leafs to score the game winner. ''Ah, there it is, wondered how we let that last goal by us.'' Erik says.

Kris asks, turning his wedding ring on his finger. ''When do we start tonight?''

Sid checks the schedule on his phone. ''Half past six, six hours to go until we hit the ice.''

At loose ends as to what to do for the rest of the day, they grab lunch, and keep on strategising together with Sully and Quinn. Then, it's an hour of ice time with the boys. That takes them until three thirty. Sully orders his boys back to the hotel to sleep for the game, and no one refuses their coach. Kris and Erik lay out their suits, and collapse into bed together. ''You think we'll do this, sweetheart?'' Erik asks as they nod off.

Kris kisses his husband, a promise in it. ''I do, I'll get you your cup, darling, I promise.''

Erik chuckles, and lightly corrects his other half, the eternal martyr that he is. ''We will get us our cup, Kris.''

That evening, they're bussed down to Scotiabank, and suit up while chatting as a family. Sid has instated a 'no silence in the room' policy, it's screwed them over far too often. So, if there's no chatter, someone has to play music. If there's no music, everyone is to talk to each other - even if it's about something silly. Sid and Geno talk to Rusty about their pets. Kris and Erik discuss the latest Arsenal news. Completely ignoring the Prince of Wales trophy in the building somewhere.

The first period goes swimmingly by all measures. Ned performing his usual net magic to withstand the storm. Marner nets a late goal, but Rusty and Bunting keep them ahead 2-1 going into first intermission. Kris is acutely aware of their last Conference final, he can't not be, but, one look to Erik is all he needs to calm down. The second period also goes smoothly, the core taking over for this stage, Geno assisting Erik for a goal to put them up 3-1. Then, minutes later, Sid assists Kris for 4-1. Tavares notches a desperate breakaway to try and salvage the game.

In the third, Knies opens proceedings, and there's a ten minute goalless stint. But, a late one from Lars sends them into the cup final. Carolina, Washington, now Toronto - gone with their 5-3 win. The trophy is brought out, and presented to the core. Sid, as usual, lifts it. It's worked in the past, so why not now? Sid kisses Geno as soon as they're back in the room. Erik, into his first ever cup final, wraps his arms around Kris, shaking like a leaf. Kris presses his lips to Erik's neck, reminding himself that Erik isn't going anywhere. ''Well done, boys, but, the work has only started. We head back home tonight, then, get ready for either Colorado or Vancouver.'' Sully says.

The game puck goes into the board, Ned gets the helmet. And, after press, it's off to the airport.

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They're getting a Battle of Nova Scotia for the cup final. No doubt the media are salivating over this one, Probably the most demanded cup final since the old Colorado/Detroit days. But, the team aren't concerned with that, they're concerned with not having home ice advantage to open the series today, having had it all through this miracle run. To just about everyone's surprise, Erik is the calmest one of the core, newly granted an A on his jersey for the playoffs. He and Kris come in for training in Denver, hand in hand, deep in conversation about something to do with Le Mans. Something about how Ferrari bungled a strategy call. Sid and Geno share a look, whatever keeps them calm. ''How's it going, captain?'' Kris asks, putting his ring on its chain for training. ''Good, happy to be over the hump a bit.''

Erik asks his brother-in-law. ''Excited to face Nate?''

Sid shrugs, some part of him is, the other is just going to get on with it. ''It's just another game, Karl. That's what I'm telling myself.''

Lars asks. ''What's in the team notes for this game tonight?'' Sully says to his troops. ''I've heard that Bednar's starting their secondary goalie. So, I'm putting in Jars for tonight. The five of you are our powerplay and overtime unit as usual.''

With that, they head out for training. Working hard to get this first game under their belts tonight. They all know that if they don't, Colorado will run away with this series. Quinn puts them through endurance drills, they'll have to outskate the Avs as well as outscore them. ''Well, that sucked.'' Geno says, leaning on the boards.

Sid is catching his breath, resting his head on Geno's shoulder. ''Yeah, that sucked a lot.''

Kris downs some gatorade, and says. ''Now you know how Erik and I feel.''

Erik nods, and tosses his stick aside for a second. ''We've run those types of drills during summers since 2013 or 14.''

The game does indeed go their way that night. Not having Home Ice doesn't seem to affect them too much. Tristan performs daylight robbery on both Rantanen and Makar in the second period while they're leading 2-1. And, Rusty nets a pair of goals in the third to settle the game at 4-1 going into game two. ''Hope Flower saw that tonight.'' Tristan says as they board the bus back to their hotel.

Sid assures him, sitting himself down next to Geno. ''He did, he just texted me, actually: 'tell Jars I'm impressed with him.' He was watching.''

Tristan says, putting his head back. ''Thanks, Flower!'' Erik sits next to Kris, and says. ''Three more of those, please.''

Kris nods, and laughs, knowing full well the climb that awaits them. ''One game at a time, darling.'' The bus shuts up at that, Kris looks around, confused as hell. ''What'd I say this time?'' Erik laughs, and says to his husband. ''Well, sweetheart, I'd say the english nicknames are no longer secret.''

Acciari says. ''Oh, wow, that's cute. You two have petnames in english too?''

Erik says. ''Yeah, and now we've opened ourselves up to even more teasing!''

Ned proposes, in a way only a goalie can. ''Ooh, distraction tactic! Use them on ice!''

Kris, ever one for some scheming, especially with the recent Power Couple Contest, raises an eyebrow. ''Y'know, Ned? Good idea.'' The bus finally arrives back at the hotel. One down, three to go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The series is sadly tied on return to Pittsburgh. The team have a couple of days off to recover from the jetlag of flying from the mountains to the east. As usual, the core get together at Sid and Geno's place for breakfast the morning of their return. That 3-2 overtime loss sucked, but, it's not over until it's over. No need to press the panic button yet. ''So... the petnames, huh?'' Geno asks, smirking over his coffee mug.

Erik rolls his eyes, they've not heard the end of that since they got on the plane last night. ''Geno... we told you that's between us.'' Sid flashes them a shit eating grin. ''No, tell us, come on.''

Kris says, resigned to having to tell his brothers yet another story they'll get all mushy over. ''The big ones, that's all you're getting, just the big ones we use all the time. Cool?'' Sid and Geno nod. Kris carries on. ''I think I started calling Erik 'mon amour' just after we became official in 2012. We were just on the phone, and it... slipped out.''

Erik smiles softly. ''As for me calling Kris 'hjartat mitt'... he got all insecure over himself when he saw me with Victor at some event, and that was my way of getting through to him.''

Sid and Geno have glossy eyes, Sid says, a big smile on his face. ''That's really sweet. And, like, seeing how happy you are to use them, and hear them, it's just... nice, y'know?'' Erik and Kris share a soft look, for all the roughness on ice, they're always soft for each other. ''Yeah, it is.'' Erik says.

Geno adds. ''How have you two been handling this run? New territory, right?''

Kris says, helping Sid tidy the table up. ''I think we're doing okay, just living one game at a time.''

After their breakfast, they head down to the arena. The glass cabinet where the team's five cups sit pride of place stare the captain and his three alternates in the face. Erik notices the melancholic look in Kris' eyes as he looks up at the 2017 cup, and silently holds his husband's hand. He'd give anything to rewrite that horrible night, kick his own ass and demand the old him apologise right away. But, they're here now, right where they belong. Kris takes a deep breath, and kisses his husband's cheek. ''Got lost for a second, amour.'' He says.

Erik smiles, and squeezes his hand. ''I know, and it's okay, hjartat.''

They go to a media room, and get on with some game study. Reviewing the first two games, taking notes, and discussing strategies for the home games ahead of them. Sid has is calculated in his head that they'll be in Colorado if this goes to seven. So, they must be ready for that. It's worked three times in the past, they've never won a cup at home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Game three is at home, PPG Paints is full to the brim with home fans all clad in black and gold. The core arrive together, as they always do for home games, and walk in together. For most teams, this united front would be mostly for the optics, not in this city. Geno talks to Erik about a story from his days with Metallurg as they walk in. Sid and Kris talk about a big game they played against each other in their QMJHL days. Val D'Or beat Rimouski 6-5 in a massive overtime period. Once out of their suits, they split up into their stalls in the dressing room. They suit up to some music, and Sully gives the read before they head out.

Sid stares down against Nate on face off, Nate looks somewhat intimidated by the sea of black his team are surrounded by. Kris locks eyes with Makar. The kid's good, really good. Nate and Cale are good together, but they'll never be Sid and Kris. Sid wins the faceoff, and it's off to the races. Midway through the first period, Acciari gets them on the board 1-0, with a massive breakway goal. Just a couple of minutes later, Bunting gets a sneaky Michigan goal. ''Good job, boys! More of those!'' Sully shouts from behind the bench.

The second period is mostly Colorado. With Nate and Devon Toews getting two goals to level the game at 2-2 going into the second intermission. ''Alright, this game is very winnable, we stick together, stay calm, and take it one shift at a time. No panic buttons anymore, boys.'' Sully says.

The third period is crazy, Geno opening scoring right off the jump, Rantanen fighting back to tie it 3-3. ''Crosby unit, you're all up!'' The top unit take to the ice, and leap on the offensive right away. Drew putting them back ahead 4-3. However, late in the third, Nate scores a one-timer on the penalty kill to take them to overtime again. The overtime unit get to work right away. Lars gets the puck, and feeds it to Erik, who scans the play once, and says. ''Sweetheart, give them hell!''

Kris takes the puck, ignoring the urge to kiss Erik, he takes the shot, and ends the game 5-4. Then, he pulls his husband in for a kiss in front of the whole arena, who go absolutely crazy for it. ''Hey, get a room!'' Lehkonen chirps them. Not to be outdone in his own arena, Kris fires back. ''We have one, you're in it!''

After the game, a journalist asks Sid. ''Did Kris and Erik plan that kiss beforehand?''

Sid laughs, his best friend and brother-in-law are schemers, but not like that. ''No, I'd say that was very spur of the moment. Can't say I'm all that surprised, though, with how they are backstage.''

Erik shouts over from his media scrum. ''You love us, Croz!'' Sid shouts back. ''Yes, I do.''

Another journalist laughs, and asks. ''Are they down bad for each other?''

Sid nods, grinning ear to ear. ''Oh, yeah. You'd never know it's been over a decade since they got together, they're like teenagers.''

Once back in street clothes, dinner is served to the team at the arena. A 2-1 series lead, almost there, but it's not over until it's over. Sid, of all people, knows fine well what lies ahead of them with this series. A decade of friendship with Nate have taught him well what to expect. The core debrief while they eat. ''What did Lehky say to you two?'' Rusty asks Kris.

Kris chuckles. ''He told us to: 'get a room'. I told him: 'we have one, and you're in it'.'' The team burst out laughing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Game four is another win for the Penguins, a simpler 3-1 home win with amazing goals from Rusty, Lars, and Jesse. They fly out this evening to Denver for what could be the cup winning game.The media are still ruminating over the ''Game Three Kiss'' - as it has been labelled. But, the defence power couple have mostly gotten on with it. But, during a final home skate before they fly out, Beauvillier says to them. ''Hey, why not do that for the next game too? Y'know, kiss to put the Avs off their game.''

Geno remarks. ''It worked then, might work now.'' Erik laughs, the contest still fresh in the team psyche, only now it's been inflicted upon their opposition. ''They'll be expecting it, Tito, we might bust out the nicknames, though.''

Bunting says, sounding excited. ''Oh, please do! I feel like we've heard one percent of the repertoire, and I'm fascinated now you say nicknames, plural.''

Kris smiles, and rolls his eyes. ''Thank you for opening Pandora's Box, mon tresor.''

Erik leans over to kiss his cheek. ''No problem, skatten mitt.'' They tidy up, and hit the showers. Then, it's into suits for the flight to the game that might just end all of this. It's almost too good to be true, one more game, and it's over. But, one thing at a time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Game five is a bit of a clusterfuck, a dramatic 4-3 overtime loss to the Avalanche sends them home to Pittsburgh angry. No one is more pissed about this than Kris is. He's wanted to win a cup with the love of his life since he can remember. He promised Erik that they'd win this thing this year. And, the fucking Avalanche just had to ruin everything, didn't they? It takes Erik putting his hands on his shoulders as they get to their stalls at Cranberry, to bring him out of his head. ''Kris, sweetheart, talk to me. What's going on?''

Kris takes a deep, but ragged breath. ''Game five, Erik. I just want to get you a cup so much, and then, they had to fuck it all up for us. I'm just... pissed off.''

Erik nods, he knows Kris better than Kris knows himself. They even discussed this on their first night back home this season. So, he goes to the tactic he employs to calm Kris down. ''Okay, Kris, what facts do we have right now?''

Kris says, taking another deep breath. ''We're married. We're both Penguins. We're 3-2 up in the final. We're in this together, we love each other. And, we got here together.'' Erik nods, pressing a kiss to Kris' lips. ''Good, feel better now?'' Kris nods, leaning his forehead on Erik's. ''Jag alskar dig, alskad mitt.'' He says.

Erik says. ''Je t'aime aussi, mon coeur.''

The rest flood in, surprised at the sight of Erik calming Kris down from something. They don't pry, instead just get suited up for action. They could very well win the cup tomorrow evening, and nobody is going to be caught slacking off now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Game six is a close affair, and a physical one at that. Geno getting the team's only goal late in the game, not that it salvages it any, they're forced into a game seven with a 2-1 loss. They've got three days off between game six and seven, Sully has them on rest orders for the first day off. Sid and Geno use the day to bake and relax with Sam and Maverick. Kris and Erik use it to re-watch some stuff from their four happy All Star Games, Tampa doesn't count. ''Forgot how good you looked that weekend.'' Erik says as they watch the 2016 All Star Game.

Kris runs his fingers through Erik's hair, finally at that length he loves it at. ''I prefer us with long hair, like in 2019.'' Erik laughs, and adjusts his head on Kris' shoulder. ''Me too.''

At the Crosby-Malkin house, Sid leaves a sheet of cookies to cool on the counter while Geno packs them up for the final flight to Denver. Sam is curled up on the couch, fast asleep in the sun. Maverick curled up with her. Geno comes down with their stuff. ''Done, could not find your Nova Scotia tie, found it in the sock drawer somehow?'' Sid kisses his husband. ''Great. We'll have loads of cookies for the flight too.''

They could so easily disobey Sully's rest orders, heaven knows the four of them are off their collective rockers, especially with a massive game seven looming large over their heads. But, Nate's boys flew home last night, they'll be tired too. Best to rest up for the long term. Over at the Letang-Karlsson house, they pack up for the flight, Buddha helping them wherever he can. Kris has promised Erik another dog at some point, hopefully a husky. ''Alright, darling, looks like we're set to go.''

Erik asks, an eyebrow raised. ''Did you remember your meds, sweetheart?''

Kris chuckles, and kisses his cheek. ''I remembered my meds, darling, yes.'' Someday, the boys will stop worrying about him, but he guesses that is a further flung time than he estimated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The big day finally comes, the entire team arrive at the enemy arena wearing matching suits in black, white, and gold. An idea Kris and Erik proposed at the start of the series. If Sid is honest with himself, which is always, the idea was a stroke of genius from his brother and brother-in-law. This is cemented when they see some of the Avalanche guys arrive all in different suit colours. One team are in harmony, one are not. They get in, change and eat, and suit up. Sully gives the speech, the cup in this building somewhere going totally ignored. ''Alright boys, just like always, we go in together, we stay calm, we go in patient. This is just another game, ignore the noise.''

Mario gives the read. ''Up front we've got: O'Connor, Crosby, and Rust - Sid and the kids!'' The room applaud. ''On the blueline: Letang and Grzelyck.'' PO took over from Gravy as the third pair leader, the room cheers for them. ''In net: Jarry!''

The team file out to the corridor. Sid says in a quiet moment with the core. ''Wanna score a goal each tonight, boys?''

Erik nods, looking determined. ''Sounds great to me, captain.'' Geno smirks, and says. ''Da, davai.''

Kris takes a deep breath, focused on winning this for his husband. ''Let's fucking do this.''

They take to the ice for the game, just another game, and here they stand, all united against thousands tonight. The Penguins against the world, just as it used to be. Five minutes in, Nate takes a dumb penalty, and Sully deploys the Veterans Unit. Sid gets the puck, and shouts. ''Geno!'' Geno receives the pass, and fires a wrist shot past Georgiev's ear to put them up 1-0. ''Spasibo, Sid.'' Geno says, a beaming smile on his face.

That proves to be the only goal of the first period, the defence ticking like a clock and Jarry performing saves Flower would be very proud of. They get some music on during intermission.

The second is a bit more eventful. At six minutes in, Kris reads a play quickly, and says. ''Darling! Do it!'' Erik takes his pass, and hammers it home as soon as he gets it, 2-0 with goals from half the core. In the dying minutes of the period, Sid makes off with the puck from a scrum in the corner, and, catching Georgiev unawares, scores what could be the one to end this whole thing 3-0, with Kris' goal still to come.

Sully gives a very short address to the team during second intermission. ''Good job so far, boys, let's keep this going, the finish line is in sight, we keep blocking the noise out, they're not liking this, but that's okay.'' He turns to the captain. ''Sid, anything to add?''

Sid nods, and just says. ''Kris, mon frere, it's your turn to score next.'' Kris just smiles, that knot of doubt still lingering in his chest, slowly untying itself. Erik squeezes his husband's hand.

They get back to work, the crowd growing angrier with them as the period ticks down to its last half. Geno and Erik watch the final minutes from the bench, helpless while their favourite Canadians are on the ice. In a momentary lapse of focus, Lehkonen passes the puck to Kris. ''Davai, Legenda!'' Geno shouts.

Erik calls to his husband, in french, in the language he learned all those years ago for him and him alone. ''Allez, mon coeur! Allez!'' Kris is patient, skating end to end with the puck, waiting out Georgiev, and scoring a gorgeous goal. They're up 4-0 with a minute and a half left. For which Sully deploys the Veterans Unit. Sid between Geno and Lars, Kris and Erik side by side. The quintet patiently wait the last minute and a half out, before the bench goes empty.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The team mob each other, first in the Metro division thanks to four living legends creating a reality show for their teammates. Now, cup champions yet again, with just four remaining from the last time they were in this position. Sid pulls Geno down for a kiss in full view of Nate. Fighting through the crowd, Kris finds Erik, and wraps his arms around him. Erik cries into his husband's shoulder. Sixteen seasons, and his name will finally go on that cup. ''We did it, mon amour.'' Kris says. Erik kisses him. ''I love you, Kris.''

Kris kisses him back, and runs his fingers through Erik's damp hair. ''I love you too, Erik.''

The core celebrate with their team, before the two final trophies are brought out. Sid, to the surprise of absolutely nobody, is awarded the Conn Smythe. Then, the Stanley Cup. Which goes to Erik after the captain's lap, Kris is in tears at the sight of the love of his life with the Stanley Cup. ''Hjartat, you next!'' Erik passes it off to Kris with a kiss for his lap of the rink. After which Kris says. ''Geno, I'm coming in hot!'' He passes the cup up to Geno.

Once all of the quartet take their laps, they sit and watch the rest of their team take their laps. Sid and Geno are pulled up for a photo with the cup. Kris fishes his chain out, and removes it so he can put his wedding ring back on. Erik does the same. ''Kris, Erik - your turn.'' The photographer says.

They pose with the cup in their arms, their golden wedding rings proudly on display against the silver. Flashing triumphant smiles down the camera, over a decade, and they've finally won their cup together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They spend a couple of days resting off the game and their hangovers from the dressing room party. But, they have to go home at some point. They're up late in the morning, pack up for their evening flight, and get on the plane to Pittsburgh. The cup with them on the plane, safely kept in the seat next to Sully. Sid happily rests his head on Geno's shoulder, both glowing with the fourth cup win. Kris, radiant but tired, engages Lars in conversation about Denmark. Erik is also glowing, and texting Victor about the win. Kris' phone buzzes, he answers it on speaker. ''Bonjour, mon chum!'' The whole plane shuts up, Flower is calling them from wherever he is.

Flower says. ''Felicitations, mes amis!''

Sid says from his seat. ''Thank you, Flower!'' Flower asks Erik, the first time cup winner in the family. ''How does it feel, Karl?''

Erik beams from his seat next to Kris. ''Only finding Kris felt better, Flower, I've not stopped smiling for two days.''

Flower says, laughing. ''I can imagine. I'll let you guys sleep, I'm coming into town soon, so I'll see you all soon.'' Kris smiles, clearly missing his favourite goalie. ''You're staying with us, Erik and I will get the guest room ready for you.''

Flower says. ''Got it, I'll see you soon, boys!'' They hang up, and finally get to sleep. Geno has a feeling they're not going to be sleeping much for the next week or so. It's going to be chaos as soon as they get home, so, he wants to savour the flight home as much as he can.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flower arrives in town the day before the parade. Retirement looking very good on him. He may not have retired with this team, or with this cup. But, he's etched into the fabric of this team. He immediately embraces his three brothers, and gives Erik a massive hug as well. Then, he says to the two goalies. ''You two are absolutely incredible, you know that, right?''

Tristan says. ''All because of your example, Flower.''

Flower asks the core. ''Thinking of joining me in retirement now?'' Sid shakes his head. ''Not even a little bit, no. We're nowhere near done yet. Our contracts are still active, so we'll play them out.''

Someone shouts over to the quartet. ''Captain and Alternates, the head car awaits!''

The core pile into the back of the lead truck, the cup and Conn Smythe sitting between them. Once everyone is situated, they roll out into the streets, lined in their home fans, decked out in team colours. The team have never won a cup at home, maybe that's for the best, no feeling beats coming home for the parade. Instead of sitting around waiting for it to happen. ''We did it, Sid.'' Geno says. Sid nods, that typical doe-eyed look in his face. ''We did it, G.''

Kris turns to Erik. ''Well, here we are at last, alskad mitt.'' Erik nods, and dries his eyes again. ''Here we are, mon coeur.''

Sid asks Erik. ''Was it everything you wanted it to be?'' Erik nods, fixing his hair again. ''Everything and more. When do we get our rings?''

Geno says. ''Start of next season.''

They proudly and triumphantly present all three trophies to their city. The speeches are made, and their jerseys are handed over to go to Toronto. After eight years of worrying whether they'd get back here, here they are again. The rulers of all they survey once again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summer is filled with parties, team events across two whole continents, and each of their cup days. A blur of celebrations gives way to much earned rest. The replica cups sit in the Letang-Karlsson house with the Masterton and Norrises as soon as they're home in Pittsburgh. They get their rings on their first visit to Toronto before camp begins. The person in charge of the rings hands them out by number. Erik opens his box first, and says to his husband. ''God, it's huge.''

Kris laughs, trying his on his right ring finger, his left is taken by a more important ring. ''Yeah, that never changes. Try it on.'' Erik slides it onto his right middle finger. ''Heavy too, wow.''

Kris asks, only to be cheeky. ''Which do you prefer? That ring, or your wedding ring?''

Erik cocks an eyebrow, a glint of something in his dark eyes. ''Sweetheart, my wedding ring, of course. This is the pride of my career, you are the pride of my life.''

Kris melts again, how the hell has one person softened him so much over the last fourteen years? ''You're the pride of my life too, darling.'' Acciari asks, coming back from calling someone. ''Are the defencemen being mushy again?''

Bunting corrects him. ''Still, Cookie, are they being mushy still? And, yes, they are.''

Sid jokingly steps in, he knows how that first cup rush feels all too well, doesn't matter whether you're two forwards in their early twenties, or two defencemen in their late thirties. ''I think they've earned it, Noel.''

Nobody argues with their captain on that, too happy to bask in their victory, too excited for the upcoming season. No one thought they'd win that final, every single journalist had them taken out back and shot, how wrong they were. Who put any hope in all of the core scoring in game seven? Carolina couldn't stop them, Washington and Toronto all fell by the wayside, and they conquered Colorado in enemy territory. They've also got 29 to raise up soon, so that's going to be fun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay! I think 'Rival Captains In Love' might have been usurped at last! This might just be my magnum opus for my beloved defencemen so far. Didn't think I'd ever dethrone 'Rival Captains' but, here I am. Little note: I fiddled around with some trades, and kept PO on the team instead of Graves. That was for continuity purposes with 'The Power Couple Contest' - to which this is a sequel! The most self-indulgent thing I've written yet, but that's okay.

Enjoy!

Also, here's my series summary for those into data as I am. Colour coded as it is in my notebook (which literally carried this fic)

Pittsburgh Penguins vs Colorado Avalanche SCF

Game - Home Ice - Score - Winner

One - Colorado - 4-1 - PP Two - Colorado - 3-2(ot) - CA Three - Pittsburgh - 5-4(ot) - PP Four - Pittsburgh - 3-1 - PP Five - Colorado - 4-3(ot) - CA Six - Pittsburgh - 2-1 - CA Seven - Colorado - 4-0 - PP

#tangerkarlsson #sidgeno

5 notes · View notes

olsenmyolsen · 10 days

Text

Chapter Eleven: A Weekend Away Pt. 1 - Pictures

The Farmer's Daughter - (A WandaNat Story)

(the gif kinda makes sense!)

Masterlist . Tag list: @xenaizogie

Summary: Natasha heads with Kate for a weekend away to think more about what she and Wanda want. Not to mention Kate has an art show!

Word Count: 3.3K

Content: Feelings, Fliritng, Talks about Yelena, Maya Lopez and other Marvel characters show up, Sexting?

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Kate asked as she looked from the road to her friend in the passenger seat. Natasha had her arm on the door up against the window. Her index finger touching her bottom row of teeth.

She was smiling.

Natasha turned as Kate looked back at the road. "She tasted like cherries." Natasha blushed as she thought about it. Kate didn't have to look to know. She could hear it in Natasha's voice.

"We can still turn around," Kate said teasingly as they passed another mile marker. Natasha shook her head. "It'll be good to have this slight space." Kate clicked her tongue. "Only if you're sure." She said.

Natasha looked at her friend. "I'm sure." She went back to look out the window. "I just need space to think about me and her."

Kate didn't one hundred percent agree.

"I mean, I know you're in your confused feelings, but what's there to think about?" Kate asked. "She's Erik's daughter. Okay. Her family seems really cool, so I doubt there'd be much intervention there." Kate said before continuing. "Aside from the fact that she is on the younger side."

"Eight years is the difference," Natasha spoke up as her eyes darted to a food sign for a restaurant four miles away.

"Eight years," Kate repeated as she shimmed her hand back and forth before she put it down. "No." She commanded. "That's silly to get upset about. Men do this shit all the time." Kate looked around her mirrors before switching lanes.

"You didn't use your turn signal." Natasha scolded.

"Hush," Kate said. Natasha chuckled before continuing the conversation. "Most people don't live and work where they meet someone like Wanda. I work for her father." Natasha pointed out.

Kate nodded. "Back to my first point. Her family seems really cool, so I doubt there'd be much intervention there." Kate repeated her statement. "For the record." Kate darted her eyes from the road to Natasha. "I like her. I think she's a good match for you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You should see your smile."

Natasha looked down and bit her bottom lip. Maybe that's another undiscovered reason for needing this space. It had been a long time since Natasha found herself being this happy with anyone.

Kate's apartment was on the opposite side of the city, where Natasha met her at the bar.

As Natasha closed the door behind her, she looked around the small hallway into the two-bedroom place. It was cute, and as she stepped further in, Natasha marveled at how far Kate had come since the loss of Yelena.

Going from her mom's place to this was a step forward for her.

"Where's Fanny?" Natasha asked as Kate opened the cluttered second bedroom for her. Framed pictures of Kate's work lining up against the walls in addition to boxes still unpacked. "At a friend's. She'll drop Fanny off tomorrow."

"A friend's?" Natasha asked with a slight tilt of the head and tease in her voice as she placed her bag on the bed. "Ignore the mess." Kate waved her hands at the room. "And yes, a friend." Kate raised her eyebrows to Natasha as she walked out of the room. "Should we get take out?" She asked as she walked into the kitchen—multiple take-out menus on her fridge.

"Sure," Natasha answered as she followed Kate. "What's this friend's name?" Natasha smiled as she looked at Kate's side profile.

Kate should've known Natasha wasn't going to let this go.

"Maya," Kate said as she held up a Chinese menu. Natasha nodded and took it from Kate's hands. It's been a while since she had some. "How long have you known Maya?" Natasha asked while reading the menu as she went to sit on the lovely soft couch. Natasha knew Kate never used her dining room.

Kate came out from the kitchen with two cold beers. She placed one in front of Natasha.

"About a year," Kate answered as she watched Natasha close the paper menu, handing it to her. Kate set her beer down and took it, seemingly dropping the conversation surrounding Maya.

Natasha went quiet and got up to look at Kate's apartment with the beer in hand.

Tons of photographs from artists Kate loved and photos she took were also out here mixed in with artsy movie posters and stuff picked up from the street.

"Oh wow!" Kate looked up as Natasha leaned forward to a small picture on her bookshelf. Inside a white frame was Clint and Kate throwing up peace signs in the middle of a desert. "I met you that day," Natasha said as she put the picture back down. Kate smiled and nodded. "Any regrets?" Kate joked, making Natasha laugh. "Not yet."

Natasha continued finding more pictures as Kate ordered the food.

It was bittersweet. The pictures felt like yesterday and like a lifetime ago at the same time. Some featured people Natasha had never met or were almost close enough to call family.

"Do you want another one?" Natasha called out to Kate as she lifted her empty bottle. "Yeah, thanks. Bottom drawer." Kate said as she flipped through endless streaming services, looking for anything to watch. Neither person could decide.

Natasha tossed the bottles into Kate's recycling bin before opening the fridge door. But a Polaroid picture with a magnet holding it in place stopped her.

It was a picture of Yelena and Kate the night Kate proposed. Yelena held her ring finger to the camera as Kate kissed her cheek. Natasha had never seen her sister so happy when she answered the FaceTime that night.

Natasha smiled and touched the face of the blonde in the picture before her eyes looked elsewhere. A picture of Fanny looking cute as hell. Next to that was a flyer for an art show tomorrow night.

Kate Bishop.

Was the name featured in the center? Natasha tilted her head and removed the flyer from the fridge before turning around. "Kate, what's this!?" Kate pulled her eyes from the TV and adjusted her eyes. "Oh, the flyer?" Natasha nodded. "You're doing an art show?" Kate smiled. "Yeah?" Natasha shook her head. "That's incredible!"

Kate was horrible at receiving compliments. "Thanks." She struggled to say. Natasha rolled her eyes and hung the piece of paper back on the fridge door. "I hope I'm invited." She said as she pulled out two beers. "I can get you a ticket," Kate said from the other room.

Natasha laughed as she closed the fridge door and went to grab extra napkins and sauce packets for their food.

"Find anything?" Natasha asked as she sat on the couch. Kate had, in fact, found a movie for them to watch. "I know you're a softie for animated movies." Natasha playfully glared at Kate before the black-haired girl clicked play on a movie called Sing.

It wasn't too much longer after a porcupine popped up on the screen that their Chinese food came.

The next morning, a barking dog awoke Natasha.

She wasn't sure what time it was, but she appreciated Kate trying to get Fanny to stop barking. But it wasn't working. Fanny smelt someone new in the apartment and needed to investigate.

Natasha lifted herself out of bed and walked to her door in her sleepwear. She could hear the foot movements of two figures by the front door, but no one was speaking.

She wiped the crust from her eyes and opened her door. Immediately, Fanny ran to Natasha. And just like that, her sleepiness was gone as Natasha crouched down and accepted the large dog into her arms.

"Okay. Okay. Stopping licking." Natasha pushed Fanny's nose away and looked up.

Two people were watching her. With a smile and her phone facing Natasha, Kate took a million pictures. The other person was a taller, broader woman. Deep dark brown hair, brown eyes to match, and a quizzical look.

Natasha stood up and smiled at them both. "Morning!" The mysterious figure looked at Natasha's lips. "Sorry about Fanny, we were trying to be quiet," Kate said as Natasha darted her eyes to the other person still watching her. "I see that." Fanny bumped Natasha's leg, asking for more pets.

Natasha was starting to grow leery of the mysterious person until they tapped Kate on the shoulder, making the pajama-wearing woman turn around.

That's when Natasha realized.

She watched the person who dropped off Fanny begin to sign to Kate. They were deaf. Kate held up her hand and spoke clearly to Natasha. "She's asking who you are." Natasha took quick steps forward. She made sure to speak effectively. "Natasha Romanoff." She stuck her hand out as the person signed before shaking Natasha's hand. Strong grip.

"Maya Lopez." Kate translated even if Natasha could put that together herself. "Nice to meet you." Maya read Natasha's lips and smiled back before looking at Kate. Natasha watched as they signed back and forth.

Natasha smiled to herself as she watched this happen. Kate didn't know ASL the last time they spoke. And this was Maya.

Natasha moved her eyes from their hands to the way Kate smiled.

It was familiar.

"She's a little upset I didn't tell her about you staying with me this weekend," Kate said before getting slapped on the arm by Maya. "Apparently, I wasn't supposed to repeat that."

Never change Kate.

Natasha smiled at her friend as she crossed her arms over her chest. She rolled her tongue over her teeth. She had Kate. "Why would Maya be a little upset?" Natasha asked, being coy.

Kate went red as her eyes grew in size.

"I-..." She froze before turning to Maya with a nervous smile. She then signed for a minute before saying her goodbyes. Natasha lifted a hand and waved, too. Fanny got some pets. However, once the door closed, Fanny went to get some water, and Kate finally turned back to Natasha.

"What a nice friend," Natasha emphasized with amusement.

Kate fell back against the door. "It's new... okay." There it was. Natasha nodded but she could see Kate wasn't exactly thrilled in this moment. Natasha stepped towards Kate. "Kate, I'm not upset."

Kate briefly looked at Natasha in the eyes. "Yeah..." She lifted herself off the door. "It's just-" Natasha cut Kate off she could see where her brain was going.

"Kate, I'm going to be honest with you." Kate closed her mouth. "Yelena would want you to be happy... but she would definitely want it to be with herself forever." Kate lightly laughed. "She hated sharing." Natasha nodded. "I remember."

Kate breathed out. "It's been years, and I still feel her sometimes." Natasha gave Kate a sympathetic look. She understood. "Does Maya know about Yelena?" Natasha asked.

"Yeah. She understands."

"Then you have nothing stopping you. As long as you're happy."

"I am." Natasha smiled. "You learned ASL for her." Now, it was Kate who was smiling like an idiot. "I did." Natasha moved closer to Kate and opened her arms. "Yelena's not with us, but I'll always be your sister." Kate hugged Natasha before laughing. "What I was being sweet." Natasha moved back and said. Kate shook her head. "After you stepped out of the room, Maya said she was close to kicking your ass before realizing who you were."

Natasha lifted her eyebrows. "I'd like to see her try." She smirked, making Kate laugh. "Oh, Tasha, just don't bring this up, and everything will be fine."

The rest of the day flew by for Natasha. She and Kate went out to breakfast, did some shopping, and got things together for tonight's art show, including their outfits. Natasha chose a black dress that lifted her boobs while also having a slit from her hip to her ankle. Natasha loved the way it felt.

Kate put it on her card, so everything was fine there. Plus, Natasha didn't have anything really sexy like this anymore.

It's not that she needed the dress for any night past this, but what if she wanted it for someone who had been on her mind off and on all day?

What if she wanted to be sexy for Wanda Maximoff?

Natasha thought about her a little after breakfast and what should we be up to on a nice like today. She guessed she would've convinced Natasha to go into town or to the creek again.

Natasha again thought about her when she was on her phone, sitting outside a coffee shop with Fanny while waiting for Kate. She ended up on Wanda's Instagram after following her a week prior. The latest post was from Thursday morning, and it was a picture of the farm with the sun high in the sky.

Natasha smiled when she looked at the picture because she knew precisely what Wanda was doing. In the left corner, off in the distance, was Natasha standing next to Butterball. Not that anyone would know it was Natasha, aside from a handful of people.

And feeling bold, two hours later, Natasha returned to the post and sent it back to Wanda with a message.

"Just saw this! Looks beautiful."

Natasha stared at the direct message screen before closing out of her phone went. Kate walked into the living room and asked her which black tie to wear for her suit that night.

In Natasha's eyes, there wasn't a difference.

"Left?" She said, which made Kate groan. Left was the wrong answer. Kate stomped into her room, making Natasha laugh. "It's not funny!" Kate yelled. "It is from here!" Natasha yelled back as she could feel Katherine roll her eyes.

Natasha picked up her phone once more, and it opened on Instagram. Her message turned from delivered to seen. Wanda's icon had a green dot next to it.

Wanda was sitting on the living room floor, watching a movie playing in the background. Monica Rambeau sat on the couch behind her, typing on her laptop. Monica had been feeling bad about being too busy with her summer program to really hang out, so when Wanda asked her if she wanted to come over, she jumped at the opportunity.

Except she did need to finish an essay by Monday, hence the laptop. But Wanda didn't mind. She needed some sort of distraction, and Monica did that.

Well, she was when they talked earlier and watched TikToks and some animated singing movies. But hours later, Wanda found herself on Instagram. Again.

However, this time, she opened it to a message.

She was shocked when she saw who it was from.

But slowly, her shocked face turned into one of joy. As Wanda pulled her phone closer to her face, she smiled. Wanda read the message twice before thinking of anything to say.

"The landscape was just perfect. Wouldn't you agree?"

Natasha could feel the flirty undertones miles away. She bit her tongue as she thought of a response.

"I would agree, Wanda. You should take pictures of the farm more often."

"Or do you mean pictures of you?" Wandas whispered as she read Nat's message. "Did you say something?" Monica spoke up, making Wanda jump. Wanda turned around and gripped her phone. "No." She shook her head, making Monica shrug before going back to typing. "I won't be too much longer, Wands," Monica said, but Wanda was fine with it.

It gave her time to flirt with the woman she missed.

And if anything, these messages proved that Natasha missed her just as much.

Which hurt less because Wanda still thought Natasha shouldn't have left.

After more flirty messages back and forth, Natasha had to let Wanda know she needed to start getting ready for Kate's event tonight.

"What kind of event?"

Wanda asked after waving bye to Monica. Monica remembered she had to purchase a textbook for her program.

"Kate's photography is being put on show." Natasha typed back while also sending a photo of the flyer for said event.

"Sounds like fun!" Wanda was being supportive and trying her best not to think about Kate parading Natasha around as anything more than a friend.

She knew Natasha and Kate would never be anything. But still, sometimes your mind likes to be mean to you. So Wanda decided to change topics a tad as she sat on her bed.

"What are you wearing?" She asked instead.

"Right now?" Natasha joked, knowing that was not the question. "Nat! What are you wearing later??"

Natasha read the words on her screen, got up, and went to her room. She sat next to her dress. It laid out on the bed. Natasha looked it over before finding herself in a mirror. She then smirked and messaged Wanda back.

"One second."

Wandasmiled and fell back onto her bed. Her stomach was flipping. She was happy they were back to their flirty back-and-forth, but she wasn't exactly sure where that left them until Monday.

Wanda had a hard time sleeping last night. She couldn't stop thinking about their kiss and how she wanted to do it repeatedly.

However, before she could think about it any longer, her phone buzzed, causing Wanda to jump up off her bed.

She couldn't sit still.

"I want to know what you think, Wanda?" Were the words below a photo of Natahsa looking as sexy as ever. A different kind of sexy compared to her usual look. The picture, along with Natasha's body, was captivating and distracting.

Natasha was in a vintage-designed, tight, perfect black dress with her firey red hair slicked back—her ear piercings on display, her muscular shoulders, and her soft chest.

Wanda could feel her mouth water.

Wanda found herself staring and going over Natasha's body again and again. She was so distracted, in fact, that Wanda stepped right into her full laundry basket of clean clothes before slamming her knee against the floor as she fell, creating a loud thud throughout the house.

Her phone fell from her hand.

"Wanda!?" Erik yelled from the bottom of the stairs, making Wanda lift her head. "Yeah?" She called out. Erik looked at his wife in the dining room with a puzzle before looking up at the stairs. "Is everything okay?"

Wanda pulled herself up onto her bed with her phone in hand. "Yeah, I just tripped!" She looked down at her already swollen knee. "Fuck..." Wanda whispered.

Erik looked back to his wife and shook his head.

Meanwhile, Natasha was sat on her bed waiting for Wanda's reply.

Had I come on too strong?

Was this too far?

Did I kill her?

Natasha asked these very valid questions in her head until the answer buzzed in her hand. "I think you're trying to kill me, Romanoff 😉"

Natasha smiled wide. "And what if I am?" She replied. Wanda smirked and looked at her outfit of choice for the day. Nothing special or fancy like Natasha's, but she knew she could make it work.

Wanda left the messages and opened her camera.

"Then you're gonna have to try harder than that." Belowthese words was a selfie of Wanda lying on her bed. The picture was from Wanda's belly button-up. She wore an oversized gray crop top that hung off one shoulder. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her brunette hair was wavy and messy. Her pink lips were freshly wet.

However, the best part was Wanda's green eyes staring directly into the camera. Directly at Natasha. Natasha's mouth hung open as her eyes etched the sight of Wanda into her mind forever.

Wanda lit up when she received one of the last messages.

"I have to get going 😉 these are almost better than your farm pictures.

Almost."

Wanda laughed and was happy that they were flirting once again.

"Have fun tonight, Romanoff. I can't wait to hear about it. Your place tomorrow night?"

dividers by @/benkeibear

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cresentcube · 1 year

Note

Howdy there! I'm a bit late to the party, by like, a few years by my estimate, but I'm absolutely in love with your Nine in DQ11 AU. I had a similar thought because DQ9 was the one other DQ game I've played. But yeah, I've been tearing through your AU, feeling a little betrayed that I'm just finding this now T_T. I'm not sure if you're still taking questions for this AU, but there's one thing I'm wondering that I'm pretty sure I haven't seen yet. Apologies if you've already answered this. What are Nine's general vibes with Serena, Erik, and Jade. Like what's their relationships and interactions like?

HELLO WELCOME!! YOU'RE NOT LATE THE TRAIN IS STILL RUNNING

I still have this AU in my heart, yes! I'm so glad you loved it!!!

It's an AU I always hold dear in the corner of my heart and if anyone leaves a like on my post I immidiately just leap up in joy. Just haven't been posting since life was really busy but it's still one of my favorite pastimes to just think about it for a while. Your ask filled me with pure joy! if you have any more questions or ideas or just random thoughts about the au, anything, just dump it on the ask and I'll be there with you in an instant. Feel absolutely free to barge in, I love getting asks. Thank you again.

Now, to your question!

Serena: They've got a lot of things in common: mainly, that they're the team gluttons. If left unsupervised they will drift to a bakery unprotected and return after spending half the team's budget. They're also both absentminded as all hell, so you can constantly see Veronica chiding the two of them at the same time- Nine and Serena side by side, slightly looking like soaking wet puppies. Like partner in crimes- but the crimes are just things like disappearing into the crowd and being lost, only to be found hours later, sharing a pastry, blissfully unaware how much the other party members were frantically looking for them in concern.

They're very good friends! She's the one who Nine makes the most casual conversation to, due to them having a lot of common interests- Nine's affinity to healing magic brings them together to discuss healing magic theory together, too. Nine enjoys braiding her hair if there's nothing to be done! Serena very, very much enjoys listening to his nighttime stories of stars and constellations.

Erik: If you leave them together, their bickering will NOT end. It's a constant stream of roasts and roasting back. Despite all this, it's all in good fun- in truth, Nine is very, very fond of Erik. Ever since Erik helped El bust out of the dungeons, Nine is always very thankful to him. He's also... aggressively protective of Erik, but does not seem to realize the fact himself. Their usual conversation is on the bickering side, but they're all good-natured and both know it. ("Nine, you know your plans make no sense." "Sure, mister 'I jumped off a cliff and would have died immediately if not for El's miracle powers', tell me your wisdom, then!')

Since Nine usually has his head above in his clouds- El's a bit too used to Nine's casual chaos- it's usually up to Erik to try and "save him from himself". "Nine, stop trying to eat that loaf whole. We have a bread knife. We're not savages." "Nine, for the love of- how did you burn the cooking pot down?? It's made of copper!!" Erik is also fond of Nine, but in the way of "Good God. My partner's brother needs a leash(affectionate)" kind of way.

In return, Nine cares a lot about Erik's wellbeing: he constantly asks Erik whether he ate anything, quietly mends his clothes, forcefully sits him down to check for his wounds and tends to them personally. As I mentioned, Nine almost gets aggressively protective of Erik from time to time- Erik notices this but does not mention it.

Jade: Jade views El as a brother: and the fact that Nine had dedicated his (jade's percieved sense of) entire life to keeping Eleven safe has won her respect. She doubts his motive at first, because she instantly recongized he was a man that was hiding a bit too much inside his seams- but the fact that Nine gets hurled off a cliff just to give them a time frame to escape erased her doubts right away. She does have her own blazing questions about Nine's true identity, but she decides to keep silent in the behalf of the respect she holds against him.

It's a relationship of solemn respect, at first, Jade respecting Nine as a protector and Nine viewing Jade as a lineage of royalty and treating her as such.... but it slowly melted into something much more friendlier over the time.

Jade does not speak of it, of course, but by the time act 1 is coming to a close she already came to a point where she considers him as her second younger brother. She (half jokingly) tries to appoint Nine to come be her royal knight beside Hendrik after she is crowned queen- Nine politely refuses.

(Nine still holds a bit of regret in the fact that he could not help any of the tragedies made in the day she lost the grip of the basket.)

Another tidbit is that albeit not daily like Hendrik and Nine, they spar quite regularly. Hendrick and Nine's sparring usually follows the same routine: Hendrik, with his physical wall of defence and his slow but devastating blows, tries to brute force his way through Nine's shield spells. Nine, with his floating movements, utilize his dexterity and small form to dodge his attacks and tries to find an opening. It's a calm conversation, almost, and since they both know each other's limit, they usuallt let go of their weapons when either of them looks drained and end the sparring in a peaceful handshake.

Jade and Nine's battle, however- not so much. Jade's blows are quick, very quick, and absolutely merciless. Since Nine's go-to battle strategy is to glance off attacks by dodging, parrying, and putting up shielding spells, this means Nine have to dodge a LOT. When they spar, it's a constant flurry of movement, sounds of split-second parrying, and the dust sifting around them as Jade metaphorically chases Nine around to land a strike: it's chaos. The only thing one would be able to make out of this mess is an occasional, frantic chant of SKARA! as the gold tint of Nine's shield spell surrounds himself, only to be deftly broken by Jade's roundhouse kick. Jade does not have mercy. To her it's either a win or a loss: Either Nine puts up a shield a second late and gets flung across the field like a rag doll by a kick, or Jade loses her balance for a split second after Nine's parry and gets a sword hilt smashed against her stomach.

Nine very much enjoys sparring against her! Erik is very concerned for his sanity.

That's what I can think of of the moment. I'll add more when I have more ideas, and if you want more details feel free to ask!!

#nine in dq 11 au #dragon quest #dragon quest ix #dragon quest xi #dragon quest 9 #dragon quest 11 #ask in the box

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baronmpontmercy · 7 months

Note

Ooo how about Erik the phantom for the ask meme? Or Marius?

Thanks! I'll go for Erik

My first impression So my first exposure to Phantom was the musical and I was a hyped up little eleven year old. And I thought he was cool, if very scary.

My impression now

Favorite thing about that character His complete lack of chill

Least favorite thing Also his complete lack of chill. But yknow, manipulating and kidnapping Christine, murdering a whole bunch of people, etc

Favorite line/scene in the book, either the very last bit with Daroga or the scorpion/grasshopper scene. in the musical, why so silent

Favorite interaction that character has with another See above!

A character that I wish that character would interact with more Daroga, and I'm refusing to count the Susan Kay book as canon tbh

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character See there's characters who come to mind who are like, facsimile of the musical's version, but honestly it's quite hard to think of someone much like Leroux Erik

A headcanon about that character He learned the entire paganini caprice 24 in one sitting, and wrote a few extra variations himself with bananas virtuosic stuff like double stopped left hand pizzicato

A song that reminds of that character n/a, I'm very bad at this lol (I know, I'm a musician, you think this'd be easier for me)

An unpopular opinion about that character Luckily in the Phandom spaces I'm in online I agree with most Takes, but every so often I venture into the musical theatre realms of Facebook where there's a big sense of "The Phantom did nothing wrong!!" he kills people, Lauren

Favorite picture n/a

#thanks!

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uzumaki-rebellion · 2 years

Text

“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 4, Chapter 56″

Masterlist HERE. NSFW. Some smut.

youtube

"Whispering in his ear My magic potion for love Telling him I'm sincere And that there's nothing too good for us

But I want to be free, free, free And I just got to be me, yeah, me, me

Teasing hands on his mind Give our night such mystery Happiness all the time Oh and how that night pleases me"

Denise Williams – "Free"

Disa held the abstract Erik wrote for her to study before his return. Joba rested between them on her couch as she read over his plans for the transition team and her place on it. Their daughter had been teary-eyed for half an hour after he explained his plans to leave for Mount Bashenga. Joba switched gears when he promised to see her twice a week on vid chat, even though he couldn't speak to her. She touched her father's forehead and sensed that his trip was a good thing and not something done because the grown-ups were upset again.

Erik sipped wine with Disa, and she noticed his jittery body. He wanted to go to the temple, but he was nervous about leaving everyone behind. She reached over Joba's sleeping form and stroked Erik's locs.

"Hey, this isn't like you're leaving to fight anyone. You're doing this for yourself," she said.

He leaned forward and cradled his face.

"I know," he said.

His voice didn't sound like he believed it.

"You're not carrying the weight of anything on you now. There's nothing to prepare for or take. Wakanda is yours. This sabbatical is just for you. You said so yourself that the past is just a faded pain that you've finally released. Don't worry about anything but yourself for once."

"Being selfish cost me a lot," he said, gazing into her eyes.

Disa sipped her drink and looked away from him.

"This is the good kind of selfish. Self-care. Spiritual healing," she said.

"Marisol will come join me in my last week. The priests say that this sabbatical will align all of my roots."

"Marisol is good for you. She knows your connection to Ogum and can balance you out. Have you spoken to Yani about her part in this?" Disa said, holding out the abstract.

Erik sat back.

"She's doing her thing. Working. Seeing someone."

"Pictures on social media don't always mean the truth."

"Remy's been itching for her. First time I met him he had his nose wide open."

"He was a nice guy when he worked for us."

"They're always nice guys when they want something."

Disa put the abstract on her coffee table and lifted Joba.

"I'll put her to bed," Erik said.

He lifted his daughter and carried her to her bedroom on the other side of the suite. Disa glanced around. Her home was too large for two people. She was happy that Marisol lived with them to share all the space they had. No matter how much shuffling around of furniture Disa did, it was difficult to make her home cozy the way it had been when she had a half suite.

"The little rocket has landed safely under the covers," Erik said after returning.

He sat down next to her again and finished his wine. She checked her kimoyo. It was late.

"I have to be up early in the office. Phase Two plans are back on track, so I'll be having meetings with the general contractor and security team tomorrow," she said.

Disa stood and brushed back her hair.

"You need some rest too," she added.

"Sit down."

Erik's voice was gentle, but commanding just the same. She dropped back to her spot, and he turned his body toward her.

"The mourning period, the repast… these past few days adjusting to having my parents back on the same soil as me… it gave me plenty of time to look at myself and all the things I've pushed up against. By the time I was eleven, my entire life has been only one trajectory. Revenge. I remember sitting in the back of a police car after I found my father's body, waiting for Grandpop to get me. Rage took over everything. Getting revenge was the only thing on my mind. Justice was in there too, but the core of my growing up has always been rooted in my own needs to avenge my Mom and Baba."

"This is a conversation we can have when you get back. Your mind needs to stay clear—"

"My mind is clearer than it's ever been. Not only is it clear, but it's busted wide open. You know I have loved you before I even knew you, Disa. Even when you pushed me aside like I was a joke, I sweated you like my Baba did my mother when he knew what he wanted out of life. I did you wrong by letting you take the brunt of my mess with Yani. You stepped aside and pretended you were okay with not having me, and I know that was a lie. I knew it when you said it, and I hear it in your voice when you talk to me. It's in your eyes right now. You ain't got to be the bigger person because you think that's what I need."

"I believe that our time came and went and that happens—"

"Not with us. We been through too much shit to pretend our past relationship was like any other. I can't imagine you being with anyone else but me, and I know in my spirit that you feel the same way, too. I wish you would be honest with everyone around you. You left me the first time to protect your soul, and it worked while I was gone. But I'm back, and you want to claim me again. Being mindful of Yani's feelings is not your responsibility. I know you sincerely like her, but deep down… I wish you would kick up a fuss for what you want."

Disa shook her head as Erik lifted her chin.

"You want what you want too, and I see it in you. When our family was all here together… I could feel you, Disa. You put on a brave front for everyone around you, acting like you're cool with how we are now. It's a lie," Erik said.

Disa burst into tears and covered her hand over her mouth so Joba wouldn't hear. Erik stared at his hands.

"I've been having a recurring dream for the last three nights in a row. I'm a little kid again back in Oakland. My Nana Jean is in her kitchen cooking. The first night I was by her side helping her fry shrimp in her big kettle pot. We don't talk much… I dipped shrimp in her homemade batter and she fried it up, humming and telling me she was proud of me. The next night I was there again, and she was making her famous chicken enchiladas. She rolls up the meat and cheese and shows me how to make the sauce that goes over it. Last night we were cooking together again, but this time, we were in your kitchen back in Cambridge. I wasn't a little kid anymore. Nana made some red rice and fried some okra with onions, and she knew where everything was that she needed in your kitchen. She moved around like she'd always been there, cooking with me. Telling me she was proud of me and missed me. All the time she's talking and I can hear your feet coming up the stairs, I can hear your suitcase dragging on the floor, and then… you're calling my name asking what we're having for dinner…"

Erik twisted his fingers together, and a few tears fell to the floor. One fell on his arm and rolled down to his wrist.

"I woke up and I could smell the last traces of Nana's food and your perfume… I heard your voice, Disa. You sounded so happy. I was happy being back there again. I woke up just as you reached the kitchen. You never made it inside before I woke up and I cried about that. Sat there in my big ass bed with my Nana's humming fading in my ear… crying and lying to myself, too."

He stood and paced the floor, his agitated arms swinging at his sides as he clenched his fists, wrestling with his emotions.

"I am a man who loves two women equally, yet differently. There are things in Yani that I need that only she can give me, just like there are things I need from you that only you can provide. I've been an excellent father, provider, and protector. I cheer on both of your dreams, and I am proud of every accomplishment you have both made in your careers. I love you both for who you are naturally. Yani left me because I refused to choose, and you let me go because you didn't want me to do something that would break my heart. You wanted to suffer so I wouldn't have to. That's not fair to you, Disa. You've been hiding and I let that shit slide because I was too chickenshit to stand on my own and stay standing on what I want the most. Two women. You bring out the best in me, Disa, and so does she. Many people don't believe you can love two different people and build a relationship that works. I do. My greatest grandmother did it, and she ran the nation, too."

Erik sat back down deeper on the couch.

"It would kill me not to have Yani, and it would kill me not to have you. I'm just going to own up to my truth that I want the world and two of the biggest baddies in it. I want it all, Disa. Yani's got some growing up to do that has nothing to do with me, and I have to let her be during this time so she can become the woman she needs to be, even if it means leaving me forever. She's an amazing mother, midwife, and soon-to-be obstetrician. Her mind and vision for women's health are unmatched. And you…"

Erik slid his hand across the couch and clasped Disa's hand.

"You Disa… the perfect mother for Joba. Your mind and vision for sustainable housing and living with climate changes and the politics of all that… who can match you with that bar for bar? They say that Samson's strength was in his hair, but my strength? These two pillars I fell in love with and never stopped loving, no matter where I was. That is a blessing to me and not a burden to overcome. Don't cry, Disa…"

He pulled her into the crook of his arm.

"I have done everything I can to get to this place in life. I love what I love and I can't change it. I've said it before, but now… after having my parents back…"

Disa kissed him to hush him up. He kissed her, then pulled her shoulder back to look at her.

"I will not be the same when I return. I'm not even the same man now. Understand that. The moment I sit back on that throne, the earth will split in two. You are a part of that, so I need you to stop making yourself small around here to keep the peace. It's not your style, and I don't like it."

Disa grinned so hard her gums showed and he kissed away her tears. She exhaled and gave herself permission to enjoy him pressed against her chest. He rocked her in his arms.

"When I come back, I want the three of us to sit down together and talk. Air all of our feelings out and see what we can be or not be for good this time."

"Yani won't be happy—"

"Stop doing that. You've been putting her feelings first out of habit. This is not just about her, it's about all of us. Our children too. Your feelings are valid and important, and I only want you thinking about what you would need from me to make anything work on your end."

"She'll leave you for good."

"She's already gone. All I can do is remain open to her. This is different for all of us… well, two of us," he snickered with his last few words.

Disa pinched his arm.

"You and my mother move the same way," he said.

"How is that?"

"Oh yeah, my Uncle Bakari 'fessed up to some things my mother was doing back in her day."

Disa put a hand to her mouth.

"My mother was ahead of her time," he joked.

His laughing eyes became serious.

"We all have to talk this out in order to give our children their best life by being honest with one another," he said. "I've been walking around afraid of losing both of you and it's time to face off, even if it means not having anyone. All three of us have the right to have a vision of how we see love showing up for us. I know right now we're on separate paths tryna make things work by ourselves, but we've never talked with one another openly outside of scheduling my time with the kids. Putting it all on the table may make it less scary. I thought I could deny my feelings and just make myself into what Yani wanted because I love her so much. Approaching her like that would put a strain on her, which isn't fair if I'm not honest. It took my Nana coming to me in my sleep to remind me to be true to my heart. Yani may never understand or accept it, and other people may think I'm wrong for feeling the way I do. I'd rather live alone than live a lie."

He tapped her nose with a loving touch.

"No half-steppin' from you, Ma," he said.

"I'm afraid for you."

"Afraid of what?"

"That you won't get the happiness you want. Even though you have moved mountains, I've always known that you yearn to be happy. Free from the hand you were dealt."

Erik leaned forward and tapped his finger on the folder holding his abstract.

"No matter what happens, I have three beautiful children. I'm happy with that now and it can sustain me in the future if need be. I wanted to get that off my chest. At least I was able to do that with you before going away," he said, glancing at his kimoyo.

Erik typed a text that she was sure went to Yani. From what she heard from Marisol, Yani spent her time keeping busy and was hard to catch up with. If she was spending time with Remy, it gave her a nice outlet from all the stress of the mourning period and finishing her residency. Hell, Disa would've dabbled in a little Remy time herself if he were older and had pursued her.

Erik checked his kimoyo again.

"Trying to reach her?" Disa asked.

"Yeah. I wanted to talk to her about all of this first, but she hasn't responded to any of my texts. She had a long shift yesterday. I didn't want to say all of this on her voice mail, plus I have some other things to tell her before I go, but looks like that won't happen. Grandpop brought Sydette and Riki to me earlier so I could be with them."

"Don't feel bad. She hasn't hung with Twyla or Marisol, so that residency must be kicking her butt," Disa said.

"I'm gonna head out. I'll check in with you before I bounce," Erik said.

He stood up and pulled Disa to her feet. Her thoughts were a mix of anticipation and relief. She didn't have to wear the mask she had affixed to her face for months. Erik saw right through her ruse of pretending to be over him and ready to start a new chapter. She had protected her heart, but she longed to have him back. It would be a different type of union because she was a different woman with other priorities in her life. Raising Joba into a healthy functional adult was number one in her book. Her career came next. Erik gave her an opportunity to influence eco-housing on a global scale, and that was a generational responsibility. A relationship was a cherry on her sundae. Sharing him with Yani did not change the depth or quality of his love for her, nor her love for him. Her needs simply shifted the order of importance. Raising a child was the equivalent of raising a nation. Raising an heir was an added responsibility. Looking at him through that lens, Disa thought little would change from how they were working together to raise Joba, communicating about his transition team goals, and their usual friendly banter about regular everyday shit. What would change was the intimacy between them and how they would talk about that with Yani.

Disa expected Yani to flip out again, but at least this time, they would all have to talk it out and understand one another fully as adults seeking a resolution. Erik would not back down from several deep conversations. He wouldn't rush them into any decisions either, she was sure of that. Too much was on his plate already ascending the throne. She knew he would lay his heart out and accept each of their final decisions before moving on.

He freed Disa.

She folded her hands on the back of his neck and held him the way she always wanted to hold him again. Disa was a part of his life and always would be. No matter what configuration they became in the future, he wouldn't allow her to throw in the towel on them. His love was wider, deeper, and long-lasting enough for all of them. She believed he could love more than one equally. It wasn't about having more than one woman just to have extra pussy to play in. He found something in two people that nourished him. Disa had that experience before and knew it was real. All that mattered was that he wanted her to be authentic in her feelings for him. Stop hiding. Demand his time for her, too.

Free.

She licked the seam of his lips and kissed him the way she did when she first realized that she had fallen for him. Erik sat back and let her control what she wanted. He parted his lips just enough to let her tongue explore him again. She started crying, and her body shook with suppressed longing. He stroked her lower back and rested his forehead on hers.

"Don't be afraid to love me," he whispered.

His words shattered her fear, and she hugged on him for life before leading him back to her bedroom. He took hesitant steps into the large room with the round bed covered in a thick red satin blanket. Erik looked around the room as she pulled off her top and unfastened her loose slacks. His gaze was drunk with arousal, and he allowed her to unbutton the clasps on his green tunic. He slipped off his linen trousers, and she stared at his penis. She remembered every inch and pressed her face against it to smell his scent. She licked his balls, and his body stiffened. His dick twitched and plumped. He plucked at her nipples through her bra, then pulled down the thick straps. He groaned when he saw her breasts for the first time in years. His hands cascaded along the fullness until he palmed the soft flesh with eager squeezes. Erik pushed her back onto the bed, shoving her legs wide so he could stare at her pussy. Lifting onto her elbows, Disa watched him lick and kiss a wet trail up her folds until he sucked on her clit, bringing it to its full plumpness with his lips. He sniffed the sparse thatch of dark pubic hairs on her mound, then dragged his lips into a deep kiss with urgent sucking on engorged nerves. Keyed up for weeks from being around him constantly as he mourned his parents, her release into his mouth came quickly before she was ready.

"Dammit!" she huffed into the blanket.

Erik laughed so hard that it made her giggle against the cool satin cover.

"Finally. Some payback after all these years," he teased.

She popped him on his forehead and shimmied toward the curved headboard covered with plush pillows. He crawled next to her and forced his tongue inside her mouth, making her taste the premature orgasm she wet his lips with. His slow thrusts into her mouth had her ready to cum all over his lips again. Her pussy throbbed with aftershocks of the sudden thrill. She held his arm while twisting her neck to match his kisses until Joba walked in on them. Erik lunged for the edge of the blanket and threw it over their lower nudity. Disa lifted herself slightly.

"Hey, what's going on, Sunshine?" Disa asked.

"I'm thirsty," Joba said.

Their daughter stood at the end of the bed, watching them. She rubbed her eyes and peered at Erik.

"I can get you some juice. Go on to the kitchen. I'm right behind you," Erik said.

Joba slowly walked out of the bedroom and Erik buried his face in Disa's shoulder, hiding a laugh. He crept off the bed and threw his clothes back on. Disa sat up, and Erik's gaze took in her breasts.

"I'll hook her up and jet," he said.

"Alright," Disa said.

"If I can get some stuff done in time, I'll try to see Joba early in the morning before school."

He slipped away quietly, and she rested against her pillows. Listening to Erik chat with Joba as he tended to her, Disa closed her eyes. Her sight became blurry trying to hold on to the heat of his body as it etched itself back onto her skin. Pressing her face into the pillow, Disa buried her dishonesty with herself for good. She would stake her claim, no matter how things turned out when he returned from Mount Bashenga.

The next morning, Erik called like he said he would, and she was glad to speak to him. He looked ready for the world. She tapped her desk comm tab and told her receptionist to bring in the contractor and security team. Disa rolled up the literal puffy sleeves on her dress and sauntered over to the completed model of the Phase Two project she helmed. Two men and two women stepped inside her inner office and she turned on the digital blueprints above the model.

"Time to get to work," she told her building team.

Glancing out of the office window, she spotted the Royal Scorpion Fighter streaking over Birnin Zana.

"Allah hamdullah," she muttered under her breath.

The king was on his way.

Yani gazed at everyone in the throne room as Elder Efetobo stepped forward with T'Challa to hand her the official proclamation designating her as a Princess descended from Queen Mary Thomas. The heavy paper with the royal coat of arms and signatures of the royal court felt heavy in her hands. Sydette's name was on the proclamation, too. Her mouth fell open when she saw Twyla's name written in heavy script. Erik made her cousin Caribbean royalty with them.

"I don't understand," Yani said.

T'Challa grinned.

"N'Jadaka presented the court with a petition to change your status based on your lineage, which is in alignment with our ancient laws. No other country would recognize you as royalty with their standards and history, but we in Wakanda deem you as such from now on. Your connection to our royal house already affords you a title, but he wanted you to have something on your family's merit."

She glanced around the room again.

"Where is he?" Yani asked.

"He left for Mount Bashenga," T'Challa said.

She pressed her lips together, then lowered her head to him.

"Thank you," she said.

Yani didn't wait for them to explain anything further and rushed out of the throne room past Mpilo. She tapped her kimoyo, turning it off mute, and a barrage of color-coded pings popped up. There were over seven messages from Erik. Her need for peace and quiet after conducting her first surgical procedure had overshadowed her opportunity to hear from him directly that he had sought more for her.

She took the private elevator to the Talon Port and glimpsed the Scorpion Fighter flying above the palace. Erik's kimoyo was turned off.

"You always do this," she yelled up to the sky, waving her hand at his aircraft knowing she was only a speck on the earth from that distance.

She smiled and held the proclamation and his letter to her chest. No matter what was happening in his life, Erik always looked after her. Her kimoyo lit up, and she jumped at the chance to speak to Erik.

The image that floated above her wrist wasn't Erik's.

"Lady Galiber, I am so sorry to disturb your work today."

Riki's teacher stared at her with big owl eyes of concern.

"What's going on?"

"We are having a hard time with Prince Riki right now. We are doing our morning exercises and the Royal Scorpion Fighter just flew overhead, and we all saw it and the prince became upset. Could you please speak with him?"

"I will connect with his kimoyo now," Yani said.

She switched floating screens and Riki's wet, blotchy, red-brown face softened her heart.

"What's goin' on Dumplin?"

"I saw Baba fly away and I wahn him back!"

"But we told you he had to go up to the mountain and you said you were okay about it."

"Mi change my mind!"

"He'll be back soon. Did you wave at the Scorpion Fighter?"

Riki's lips trembled, and he nodded his head.

"I try to call Baba, but him won't answer," Riki whined.

"He can't use his kimoyo while he goes up there. He'll call you in three days. You said you were going to be a big boy for him."

"I am."

"It's okay to be sad about him being gone. He loves you and wants you to enjoy school and have fun while he's away. Can you do that for us?"

Riki nodded and wiped his eyes. His chest stopped heaving and his breath became even again.

"Look what Baba gave mi, love. He make Mama a princess!" Yani said, holding up the proclamation for Riki to admire to get his mind off of sad things.

"When you come home, I'll have Jabuli make you some fat cakes and we can write Baba a letter and color a picture that we can send him," she said.

"Okay."

"Feel better."

"I miss him already."

"I know. Seeing the Scorpion Fighter fly so far away made you upset. Go finish doing your exercises and I'll see you later, Dumplin. Love you."

"I love you back, Mama."

Yani gave him a big kiss over her kimoyo and kept her beads on. Sydette had been quiet going to school, and she wondered if her daughter or Joba were having a hard time, too. She wandered through the East Palace and appreciated the luxury and opulence that she had left behind. The villa was beautiful, but the heartbeat of the palace had a palpable excitement to it she missed. As she strolled past a few palace staff members, they bowed to her. Normally they gave a slight head nod to her as a Lady of the court. Word must've been spread around already that she was in a different league from now on. She made eye contact with the staff and dawdled along in her fancy clothes. Her long skirt had a short train to it that dragged along the floor with shells on the end of it that made a pleasant scraping sound.

Yani paused under the painting of Erik. Gazing up at his immense image, she studied how different he looked in the painting compared to the last time she saw him in person when she recited the legend of Queen Mary for everyone. No, not different. More like evolving into something bigger than the portrait. He carried the magnificence of the painting within him, and Yani began to see how his life was going to shift dramatically. T'Challa already appeared to defer to his cousin in preparation for the transfer of power.

Even Erik's eyes looked more alive that night. He regarded every member of his family as if he were cataloging every minutia of detail about them. His attentiveness toward her didn't hide from Yani his equally attentive interactions with Disa. There were times Erik approached Disa with a bit of conversation and she would speak with him and their laughter echoed with their American kin. Yani wanted to join in and see what was so humorous that had everyone around them cackling. Disa was always funny, and Yani missed the inside jokes they had about everyone in the palace, even their own kids. A few times Disa caught Yani staring at her when Erik was near her and she would give a friendly head nod and ask if Yani needed help with anything before moving away from him and finding someone else to talk to.

Yani sighed as she marveled at Erik's portrait.

He would never stop loving Disa.

The recognition of that rested in the pit of her stomach, and she didn't judge any of the emotions or feelings that stirred up there. She stood in the heart of it and let the sensations that came along wash over her. There was no anger toward Disa anymore. There was no hate. Not even jealousy anymore. Only a simmering sadness that made Yani step outside of herself for once.

Erik and Disa had a full life at another time. They would always remain close friends no matter how much that worried Yani.

But what was there to worry about?

Yani had left Erik on her own. He was free to see whomever he wanted. If he wanted to go back to Disa, he could. If he wanted another woman to start a fresh new life with, he would have no problem finding a beautiful, willing partner. A native Wakandan would probably be his best bet to appease the country.

Her stomach tightened.

She didn't have the intestinal fortitude to even consider some other woman coming into the mix. She'd rather have him go back to Disa. The one thing she shared with her was a phenomenal history, and Yani respected the hell out of her accomplishments. From day one, Disa embraced Yani as a fellow traveler in the crazy world of Erik Killmonger. She stood up for her when Ramonda showed her ass those first few traumatic months. Disa asked for equal treatment and care for all of them in Wakanda. Not once did she seek anything that she didn't want for Yani too.

A rush of air expelled with an intense huff from Yani's mouth. Disa had been her one and only staunch friend in Wakanda outside of Twyla. She shared her fears and her sadness at Erik's death, and she loved the hell out of Sydette and Riki. Yani walked away from Erik's painting feeling remorseful for how judgmental and mean she had been toward Disa right before she vacated the palace. She had listened to Disa's hurt over her loss of love so long ago, but Yani had never really sat with that pain compared to her own until recently.

She stopped in front of the royal portrait of the two of them with their children. They had looked so united back then. Ready to face the challenges ahead together as mothers, keeping a strong pact that their children came first in everything and would be raised together with love and laughter. God, they had laughed so much together. Always sitting up in their nightgowns late at night and telling raunchy stories about all the men in their lives while eating sweets and painting their nails, hoping the children didn't wake up and interrupt big girl time. Yani knew Disa hid some things back when it came to Erik. She'd recently learned from Marisol in a drunken slumber party at her villa that Disa lost a child. Had been stabbed because of Erik. Suffered an illness dealing with him being gone so much that it tore up her health and broke her soul open.

Yani stared at Disa's twinkling eyes in the painting. Behind that cultivated façade of having it all together, Erik's love had been traumatizing for her, too. Underneath Disa's beautiful gown, there was a scar left on her belly somewhere that she would carry for the rest of her life, just like the scar on Yani's head.

Disa had been the older sister Yani always wanted. Being the oldest girl in her family, Yani never had the love and support from her parents that allowed her to make mistakes without judgment. From the time she was seven and could hold babies without dropping them, they thrust Yani into being the oldest sibling caretaker, babysitter, cook, and house cleaner for her immediate family. Thrown out of her home young while pregnant and having to grow up fast under her Aunt Leona's roof, she never had a woman who was an older peer that could just listen to her without judgment. Twyla and Aunt Leona came close, but sometimes they let their familial conservative opinions override Yani's need for compassion as she struggled with becoming an exemplary mother and a young woman while missing out on a real childhood. All she knew how to be was a worker for others at such a young age. Disa spoke to her with kindness and wisdom beyond her years, which gave Yani confidence and encouragement, especially with school and furthering her education past medical school. Disa had complained of growing up with nothing but boys and wished she had a sister, or at least a bounty of female cousins. She took it upon herself to latch onto Yani with the affection of having that type of connection despite the messed-up predicament they were in, giving Yani space to grieve, be angry, and vacillate between the two emotions at any time because of her discomfort at processing the discovery of another woman in Erik's life soon after St. Thomas. No matter how Yani showed up to Disa with her wounded pride and broken heart, that woman stood with her through it all.

"You were my friend… are my friend," Yani said to the painting. "Even when mi hated you, you never say one unkind thing 'bout mi."

Lashing out at Disa had felt cathartic for a few days after their confrontation at the palace pool. Yani took pleasure in putting her foot down. However, back at the villa, Disa's angry, truthful accusation filtered through to Yani's scorn. Later, as the mourning period stretched into a crash-course history lesson of where Erik Stevens truly came from, the brunt of her misplaced anger toward Disa came into stark relief.

Erik Stevens made choices. Then Killmonger made choices. And then the slumbering Prince N'Jadaka woke up and made a choice that put them all in disarray. The man honestly didn't think he was ever coming back. He broke off their connection to safeguard Yani's future from harm. He gave her what she needed to have a life for herself and Sydette while also freeing her to live the way she wanted without falling back on some new wasteman because of poverty and the lack of choices most women had to survive in the world without resources and support. The man loved her, but he knew the reality in store for him and gambled on the side of practical considerations. She fought the idea of him leaving her for her best interests for so long that it had become an albatross around her neck. Yani had been caught up in the euphoric perfection of love that she thought it was enough to hold them together. Killmonger knew better because he had first-hand experience of life and love being torn asunder fast by external forces. Disa experienced the same thing and opted out on her own because the writing was on the wall.

He was going to die.

Yani slammed her hand over her mouth and held back the crumbling sounds of her mournful understanding. Killmonger had been hers because of the diaphanous webbing of simple fate. If Disa's first pregnancy had gone to term, there would've been a child in the world back in the foreign where he may have skipped coming to St. Thomas altogether. Disa simply standing in her truth and choosing her mental, physical, and spiritual health over constant uncertainty allowed Yani to have the life she led now. One woman turning her back on a man she deeply loved transformed Yani's future. That same woman extended friendship and sisterly love all because she had been where Yani stood and wanted to help her move beyond it, too.

"Princess Yani, do you need some help?"

Mpilo approached her, and Yani swiped at her eyelids and looked at him.

"I'm fine, Mpilo. Thank you for asking."

"Congratulations on your new title. It is fitting and I like how it sounds," he said.

He regarded her face with concern. Yani shifted her stance and glanced at the painting of her and Disa one more time before engaging Mpilo again.

"Will you be leaving the office soon?" she asked.

"Oh, no! Prince N'Jadaka has changed my job title too! He extended my stay in the palace."

"I would like to visit his office. Would you mind escorting me there?"

He jumped at the chance.

"This way Princess Yani!"

Yani had dismissed the palace guards from trailing her. The palace was secure, and she liked the freedom of walking with Mpilo. They reached the bridge to the West Palace, and she took a moment to admire the view and gazed at Mount Bashenga. Mpilo stared at the mountain with her and shuddered.

"What?" Yani asked.

"Oh, I was just thinking that Prince N'Jadaka is a brave man. The Temple of Bast is a formidable place. Most Wakandans will never step foot there."

"Why not?"

"They go by ancient ways up there. There are rites of passage that take place where some people never return because it is too much."

"You mean people have died up there?"

"Oh yes. Some have gone insane or just come back… different. I am sorry, I did not mean to scare you. Death rarely happens anymore because no regular citizen dares step foot on holy ground. Prince N'Jadaka is a powerful man, so I know he will be fine. It is not a place for weak minds, and he has never shown weakness in anything. Sometimes I look at that mountain and I get nervous, but I like that it watches over us. The old Gods live there," he said.

Yani departed the bridge with Erik on her mind. The West Palace was a flurry of activity. There seemed to be more people moving about than she remembered before she left the city. Staff moved aside as she sauntered through, and the bows and downcast eyes followed her all the way to Erik's floor.

Whoa.

The entire area was under transformation. Construction workers and building inspectors flitted about, and Yani had to follow Mpilo through a narrow, protective walkway to reach Erik's office.

"The prince's floor is expanding with his office space for when he takes the throne. Bigger staff too… we're moving things around with all the additions," Mpilo said.

He tapped in a code for Erik's original space and they walked in on several workers moving in protected boxed files and stacking them in Tlotlsiso's reception area. Tlotliso scurried around with a thin, clear comm tab and checked every file box brought in. Yani's arrival stopped the workflow, and everyone bowed to her before continuing their tasks.

"Be careful," Tlotliso said as they maneuvered around stacks that were over six feet tall.

Mpilo guided Yani into Erik's inner office. She walked around it, admiring its extravagance.

"If you will excuse me, Princess Yani. I need to help out there," Mpilo said.

"How was he before he left?" Yani asked.

Mpilo paused at the door.

"Determined," he said with a smile.

He left her alone, and Yani stared at the painting of Queen Shuriya. Yani tried to pose like her, lifting her head with a haughty air, throwing her shoulders back, one hand on her hip, and stepping forward with her left leg.

She padded over to a large stack of sealed metal boxes arranged on a floating pallet. Piles of sealed folders and political reports sat on his neat desk. Yani sat down in his office chair and took in the room. Erik's scent permeated the air. He wore a cologne that his father used to have created in Wakanda, and the aroma of masculine strength aroused her senses. She noticed a newly framed photo of his parents near his embedded desk comm tab. It was the original photo of N'Jobu and Califia used for their sarcophagus. There was so much work on his desk and more coming for him. She tapped her kimoyo and swiped past files, searching for the digital copy of the abstract she had at her villa.

For years, Yani thought Erik was a simple soldier turned mercenary. The military life was for poor people, and her impression of Killmonger back then was a smart man who forged a path to seek his fortunes in the underworld of crime through his past military connections. He was the bad man on the hill working for the ultimate bad guy, Klaue.

The truth, given to her by T'Challa and Disa, made her head spin. Naval Academy. M.I.T. Tony Stark. Black Ops. Killmonger was a genius who used the navy to track Klaue and use his dead body to gain access to a futuristic kingdom. Yani opened up her copy of the abstract and read his words again. The eloquent writing didn't match the brutality she had witnessed back home. The command of language, the nuance inserted throughout his ideas for childbirth and health… he had actively listened to Yani's thoughts and concerns when she was beginning her journey into medicine. So much of the text fleshed out her novice concepts into actionable items that could happen in the Caribbean and throughout the diaspora. His experience of almost losing Sweet Pea with her was embedded in the report, and Yani shivered at the memory. Erik wanted her in charge of rolling out a plan to stop Black maternal death. He trusted her mind and experience and listed the resources he was willing to give to make sure she was well-funded and supported. She already had plans to contact her former mentor, a Black woman doctor back in St. Thomas.

The hidden layers of him astounded Yani. He had been an iceberg floating in her island world, never allowing her to see below the surface the immense wealth, intelligence, and power he held in his hand. She knew the inner parts of him he showed her willingly. The soft core that relished quiet times, cooking, making love, playing with babies, luxuriating in the presence of elders, praying, and spoiling her. The outer core had been prickly forbidden fruit. Only Disa had tasted that part of him, and Yani felt lucky to bypass so much of the past trauma Killmonger carried.

St. Thomas protected her from the harsh fullness of him and cocooned them in a fog of dreamy wish fulfillment. Their love had been real. There were no false notes to it. There were red flags about where he came from and what he intended to do with Klaue's crew, but that was a given considering they were all bad guys. Killmonger had slipped up and part of his mask fell away, revealing the sweet humanity that was underneath that coarse exterior. That was what she fell in love with. That was the real him. Not knowing he was some Black Einstein with a graduate degree and phenomenal family background didn't change her perspective. Their love wasn't just a steamy fantasy. He hadn't just felt sorry for her and tossed her riches after he left. Killmonger cared about her as his woman. Stood up for her. Slammed anyone who came at her sideways. They stepped into their love, knowing it was doomed.

Now he was back.

Glancing around the lavish office, she conceded that the prince was destined for more than domestic drama. Yani, Disa, their children, and the rest of the royal family were minor planets in the cosmos that was Erik Killmonger Stevens. Compared to the grandiose plans lying before her, feeling sorry for herself and Disa's situation was nothing in the scheme of future history that was about to be shaken to the bone.

Yani glanced at Queen Shuriya's portrait again.

Erik had her eyes. Her stance. Her vision to reshape the world to do her bidding. Yani never felt prouder to have her son than at that moment. Riki was linked to two families filled with powerful people. They embraced her daughter as their own and elevated Sydette to her brother's level as a royal.

Erik would transform the world, and Yani had a front-row seat to guide his hand in it because he wanted her there beside him.

"Princess Yani."

Tlotliso came into the office with a humble bow and a fancy tea set on a clear tray.

"I brought you some tea and flat biscuits," Tlotliso said.

"Thank you," Yani said.

Tlotliso brought the tray and sat it on the only open space on the desk. She poured a red tea, Erik's favorite, and set it next to the breakfast treats.

"Will you be staying here long? I can order up a mid-morning snack for you."

Yani lifted the teacup and blew lightly over the liquid. She peered at the woman with cautious energy.

"No, I just wanted to check on some things."

"Would you like a tour of what is going on?"

Tlotliso's pleasant attitude made Yani suspicious if the niceties were only because she was higher royalty and not just a noblewoman anymore.

"I would like that," Yani said.

She took another sip of the tea and left the desk, following Tlotliso out of the inner office. Mpilo worked with the other staff, bringing in more boxes. Yani waved at him and he grinned happily. Tlotliso took her to a floating wall that held images of what Erik's floor would look like before he returned.

"Gorgeous," Yani said.

Tlotliso swiped an image and overlayed it on the mess of construction and business going around all the expansion. Yani admired what it would all look like eventually.

"Wow, this place is going to look so good. Will they finish it on time?" Yani said.

"We have until the actual coronation. Our goal is to have it done before Prince Erik flies to Warrior Falls," Tlotliso said.

"Warrior Falls? Why would he go there? He is being given power as part of the peace agreement."

"He still must face challenges to the throne from the other tribes."

"He has to fight again for what is rightfully his?"

"It is our way. We give every tribe the opportunity to gain a pathway to the throne. Prince N'Jadaka is not exempt."

Yani glared at the woman.

"Shall we continue, Your Highness?" Tlotliso said.

Yani nodded and took in the floor, checking out the designs and new wall and ceiling inscriptions and carvings on columns. Workers brought in new covered furniture, floor rugs, and artwork. She checked her kimoyo after half an hour.

"I must go now," Yani said.

She walked with slow, deliberate steps toward the private elevator, trying her best not to let Tlotliso sense the urge to run. She swiped her hand over the elevator and waited to leave. The public elevator dinged, and she turned her head to see what other new luxury item was being given for Erik's posh new office. A palace guard and Remy stepped out of the elevator. Remy held a box of files and there was a shocked expression on his face. The two men lowered their heads to Yani.

"What are you doing here?" Yani asked.

"I work for the Governing Board," Remy said.

"Finally, you made it," Tlotliso said.

Erik's personal assistant stopped short when she noticed Yani was still on the floor staring at Remy from across the room. The familiar energy bothered Yani.

"You know each other?" Yani asked.

Tlotliso took the files from Remy and glanced at Yani.

"Mnumzana Ramatla Ntu finally brought us papers that Prince N'Jadaka requested before he left this morning," Tlotliso said.

"Is something wrong?" Remy asked.

Yani shook her head and gave a slight grin.

"No. I guess I'm surprised to see you here, of all places."

Tlotliso watched both of them and Yani quickly took on the stance of a royal and tuned down the informal tone of her words and used her best formal Wakandan.

"I leave you to your work," Yani said.

Remy held up his hands in the triangular shape of respect for her status. Tlotliso did the same and Yani did a high step, throwing her shoulders back like Queen Shuriya, and entered the private elevator. Remy left with the guard back into the public elevator. She went down several floors and crossed over an expansive hall to another section of the West Palace amid stares at her rushed movement.

"Princess Yani."

Disa's morning receptionist stood and paid his respects.

"I need to speak to Lady Abdullah," Yani said.

"She is in an important planning meeting—"

"This is more important. Let her know I am here waiting for her."

The receptionist nodded and tapped his desk and an earbud.

"Apologies for disturbing you, Lady Abdullah. Princess Yani is here to see you."

Moments later, Disa strolled out with a big smile on her face. She held out her hands like she was highlighting Yani.

"Look at you, Princess Yani, congratulations," Disa said.

"Can we talk somewhere private?"

Disa glanced over at her receptionist.

"Can you please tell the team that I'm taking a quick break for a family matter?" Disa said.

"Thank you," Yani said.

"Let's go in here," Disa said, leading Yani into a side room with different building models on display in glass cases.

"What's up?" Disa asked.

"Did you know Erik has to go to Warrior Falls again and face anyone who wants to fight him for the throne?"

"I didn't."

"I was talking to Tlotliso about Erik's office expansion and she gave me a tour. She told me he has to do it even if the throne was handed to him. I know the other tribes are going to fight to take the throne from him."

"With all the turmoil going on, you're probably right," Disa said.

"I don't want him to fight again. He has too much to accomplish if he loses to someone stronger. They might kill him for good this time and Shuri won't be able to save him again—"

Yani sucked in her breath to calm herself down.

"Let's do this. Can you stay for dinner tonight with the royal family?" Disa asked. "We can talk to T'Challa together and see what's really going to happen when Erik comes back."

"I can't go through this again," Yani said.

Yani's shoulders slumped, and she rubbed her forehead as Disa contemplated the news with her.

"We'll all come to dinner," Yani said. "I refuse to believe Umama and Baba Z would go for tradition over getting their lost grandson back, only to face death again. Erik would never tap out of a fight, and I don't want Riki or Sydette to watch open brutality like that."

"I agree," Disa said.

"Lady Abdullah… the team is asking for you," the receptionist said in a soft voice.

"I'll be there in a minute," Disa said.

"I'm sorry I interrupted your work. I thought you might know more than me because you're here," Yani said.

"It's fine… really."

"Go on back to your business. I just needed… needed to ask about this."

"Dinner then? Joba will be excited to see Riki and Sydette. She has some new fairy lights to show them," Disa said.

"Dinner," Yani said.

They stared at one another as if they wanted to say more to each other, but Disa returned to her inner office. Yani had wanted to speak about her new status, but she could do that later in the night since she had left her proclamation in Erik's office by accident. She left Disa's office and pondered hitting up Shuri or T'Challa before going home to calm her jitters about Erik fighting. Sighing, she decided to wait until dinner so that she and Disa could hear the truth together.

Erik stepped from the Royal Scorpion Fighter and drew in a deep breath of the fresh, high-altitude air. The air pressure made his temples throb, and he forced yawns out to make his ears pop.

Three male priests, three female priests, and two non-binary priests greeted him at the end of the Scorpion Fighter ramp. Cloaked in violet-colored robes that covered their heads too, the priests waited for Griot Shange and his helpers to approach him.

"Remove your robe please, Prince N'Jadaka," Shange said.

Erik unfastened the robe all the way to his feet and pulled it off. He stood naked before them as one helper took the robe from him. A woman came to him with a bowl and a brush and gently painted his entire body with Wakandan symbols with yellow paint that smelled like they made it from flowers.

"Follow us please," a female priest said.

All the priests turned away from him and led him through the pathway of the main temple that favored a grand ziggurat that had an opening decorated all over with panther statues that had nothing on the giant one on top of the entrance. The surrounding energy was quiet, and Erik didn't hear any birds… no sounds at all. There was a hushed grace on the grounds. His bare feet dodged pebbles and twigs before he stepped on the smooth temple floor.

The interior of the first temple was cool and a single shaft of natural light fell upon a raised circular table containing a pearl-colored gemstone that glowed with its own inner light.

"That is your spirit filling up the temple," Shange said as the stone grew brighter.

"Strong," said the priest to his left.

The walls and several fixtures embedded in the stone walls slowly lit up with neon blue and green lights that reminded Erik of vibranium, but more ancient.

"The Gods accept your presence. Bast must think you are worthy," Shange whispered to him.

Another woman, covered in white painted symbols and nude like Erik, stepped forward with a small, heated sharp blade and cut marks under his eyes. He hissed with the burning cuts, but he withstood the pain and kept his eyes on a massive wall carving of Bast.

"Let us begin," a non-binary priest said.

A vibration swelled inside the temple and for the first time since arriving, Erik felt afraid. The noise vibrated his teeth and skin and his flesh crawled with the sound that grew more powerful. The carving of Bast rippled, then moved like the Goddess was testing the flexibility of the stone skin. He gasped as the lips of the enormous mouth stretched open, speaking his name with an ancient, gritty tongue.

Eyes behind his own eyes pushed against his eye sockets with the increased vibration as Ogum woke up to meet Bast. The heavy physical sensations of his maternal family's warrior orixá greeting the Panther Goddess of his father's family short-circuited his overloaded brain.

Erik passed out and fell to the floor.

Chapter 57 HERE.

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