#kiyverse

if i were to... bow down.. as you desire, my king, what would you expect from me? am i to lie prostrate and cry for the simple brush of my liege's fingers?

shameful... this body grows more impure with each word.

i simply wish for a fraction of what you have, my king.

i grow tired not of your ire, but of your silence... and i am used to silence.

i wish not for conversation with them. i wish to be enlightened by you.

Sensational 🌹Coverage 📸

I stood nervously at the curb, glancing at my smartphone again. He was late, and I started to question our plans.

I was rocking a leather jacket covered in patches, a mid-calf jean shirt, and sparkling fishnet stockings paired with my favorite icy blue Converse platforms. My makeup was on point, featuring a natural look with an icy blue eyeshadow, white mascara on my bottom lashes, and glossy, plump lips. My hair was blown out, with curls flipped and dyed with frosted blue tips.

The only time I’d go all out is for a concert.

A sky blue BMW, roaring from a different era, pulled up beside me. Its white wheel frames, dating back to the 1920s, glistened under the night lights, adorned with a translucent coating that shimmered.

He grinned like no time had gone by. He parked, and I shivered in the cold, but seeing him made me melt. He was rocking this golden sequin polo sweater with cranes, stitched in string and colorful gems. Paired with cheetah print baggy flared jeans and the freshest printed Js. He kissed me deeply before opening my door.

“Damn baby—I’m sorry. Almost flipped speeding here.” He helped me adjust inside the car, explaining the situation. The heated seats provided some protection for him from my raft. Once he returned to the driver’s seat, he placed a Tiffany and Co. bag in my lap, accompanied by a bouquet of crimson roses.

| “Happy Anniversary.” |

I finally grinned and said, “And here I thought you’ve forgotten.”

“Nah, not with how you look tonight,” he shot back. “I’m thinking about calling off this whole concert.”

“No, you can’t!” I nudged him as we rolled out. His driving was on point, and it made me feel all proud. I was the ultimate passenger princess tonight. He even tossed me a blanket to keep my legs warm. He laughed and put a hand on my thigh, making sure I knew he was joking. “It’s Chris Brown. You wouldn’t play me like that.”

“Far too cruel, mi likkle dancin queen. Yuh bad enuh.” He flashed his winning smile, then peered to the unopened gift. “You don’t have to wait to open that. And given the weather, you’re going to need them.”

I raised my eyebrows, half expecting to find jewelry inside. My hands slipped into the beautifully wrapped bag. I pulled out an ice blue cashmere scarf, adorned with the most perfect design that wove in and out of my heart. My breath nearly stopped, and I gasped loudly. Then, I pulled out sky blue leather gloves to match.

“Oh my god! Baby, you shouldn’t have!” I was admiring the intricate design of the scarf. It was meticulously crafted for me, with my dancer name, ICEE, elegantly embroidered along the sides. I wrapped it immediately around my neck, and the warmth enveloped me, enveloping me in a comforting embrace.

“Like I’d show up empty handed.” He joked. “You really would’ve had my head.”

“I suppose it justifies the lateness.” I glanced at him behind the scarf. His gaze descended upon me, and the air shifted. It was lifted into a desire for a different kind of heat. It didn’t help that his right hand was gently rubbing small circles into my thigh. My breathing caught every time he altered his rhythm, subconsciously. A beat felt like an eternity. I looked around at the falling snowflakes, coating the window wipers.

“Thank you,” I said, my lashes fluttering slowly. He took the bait.

“God—” His curls cascaded down each side of his perfectly aligned jawline, shaking out more. “We ain’t even close, and I want to pull this car over.”

“You promised you’ll behave.”

“Yeah baby, but it ain’t like you making it easy.” He sighed, almost desperation. I chuckled softly.

We arrived at the arena, and cameras flashed in our faces once we valeted. Usually, he would have drivers, but I was impressed that he wanted to drive us to the most sold-out event on our anniversary! I couldn’t stop smiling like a schoolgirl. However, his composure and determination to take charge made this almost feel like a normal date.

But we weren’t ordinary people; we were icons, stars. The flashing lights served as constant reminders of our proximity to the door. I’ve grown somewhat accustomed to this, but he carries himself with the grace of a red carpet star. He walks and faces us with such poise and structure. There’s a double entrance, and two security guards whisper in their mics before opening the doors on the other side, signaling our arrival.

“Is that Smino over there?” I asked him as we arrived at the VIP lounge. Many celebrities were mingling at the only New York showing for CB tour.

“Maybe, but I hope I’m not competing for your attention,” he chuckled. “Chris already a handful.”

I lightly hit his chest, playful, as he graced my hand with champagne. “Never.”

I kissed his cheek until he turned his face to meet my lips, and he didn’t stop until someone cleared their throat. It was people from his network. We exchanged hellos and polite conversations. They wished us a great anniversary, and I pretended I wasn’t shocked he was talking about it publicly. This was our first anniversary, I mean.

“Found y’all.” Smino came in, dapping him up. I hugged him and then his girl. Both appearance slayed. A green demeanor that would stop any conversation. “Didn’t think y’all make it in this crazy weather.”

“He drove,” I insisted, teasing the man I’m in love with. A feeling that stayed intensively for a whole year. Our year. He wrapped his arm and hung it off my shoulders, our fingers interlocked. Smino’s smile widened, knowing that this man never drives to events this big.

“Word?” Smino joked towards him, and they both laughed. “Seems like the night going to end with a bang.” I rolled my eyes. Even his girl seemed embarrassed for us.

She said, holding onto Smino’s arm, “Babe, let’s give them space to celebrate. Congrats, you two lovebirds.”

“Thanks,” we both replied.

As the crowd around us faded into the background, he took our coats. I dashed into the bathroom to freshen up, and when I came out, his arms wrapped around my waist in a hurried embrace. I let out a shriek, nearly alerting half the hallway.

“You can’t be running off, looking this fine.” His voice lifted hairs off my ear. “You never know who’s lurking around.”

“Hmm, and would you consider yourself a lurker?”

“Your one and only.” He kissed me again, not caring my gloss rubbed off on his lips. “Come on, the pre-show about to start.”

The concert was a sensational success. We were in the box room and the view from the stage was far better than most seats. Straight ahead with no distractions from a screaming crowd. And mostly, because we were alone. Except for a few bodyguards posted at the entrance.

He wasn’t settle the whole time we stood there, swaying to almost every song. It would be a brush here, a touch there, and my ass was pressed up against him all night. And of course, when certain songs came, my ass moved, in a teasing way. I knew exactly how to whine out the right moments. And he was catching every single one, like no one else could handle me.

He mumbled, “Wait until we get home.”

I smiled, the sight of him slowly unraveling cradled me too. Because he shouldn’t have been looking….So Fine. And he was all mine. I had an urge to give him our own private show. Maybe it was the few glasses of champagne or the sativa buzz we both shared, during puffs. But I didn’t need all the layers I had anymore. I went for my top, and almost pulled it off. His hand caught me, midway.

“Not here.” He said. “I’m not sharing you with mixed company.” But it was his fault, his hands lingered too long under my skirt. I was becoming a ticking time bomb.

“That’s not fair.” I whined. “You’ve been purposely driving me on edge.”

“You want out of your misery?” He probed. Then, he lets go, just to tell the guards to leave. Door locked, he sat on the couch, and baited me with sensual looks and slower movements. He patted his lap once.

| “Come take care of me.” |

Anyways, aside from you getting nuked with infinite migraines

Are you okay?

I mean thats gotta hurt

-@the-golden-artist

it h u r t s .

extremely.

and your king cares not.

-@the-golden-artist

Xey wake.

Everything hurts. it's the first sensation xey feel, even before the feel of cold ground beneath xeir body. xeir limbs ache, xeir skin itches and burns... xeir head hurts.

Xeir head hurts. So, so, so badly.

What is it? Why? The Scholar can barely focus, but just that slight thought brings billions--trillions--of potential answers into xeir head.

Oh... oh.

Xey've gotten what xey're here for.

Xey are equal with the king. Finally! The knowledge of the universe, it's xeirs, it's all xeirs, xey have to prove it, xey have to-- The scholar tries to stand, but sways on xeir feet. The room is spinning. Xeir vision is blurry in one eye, black in the other, and xeir head feels like it's being split open with a rock. Xey can hardly lower xemself back down before xeir legs give out from under xem.

-👁️

(scopae Incase there's already a 👁️,,)

stop that….

s-scholar? scholar! yyoure ok right?? gosh... i cant believe you fooled my king like that!

( he shrinks in on himself, voice dropping to a soft whisper. )

youre um . really brave for that. really. id never even think of doing something like that.

( he curls up next to the scholar, pressed against his side. )

sorry you just feel. safe to be around.

...

you. fool... hello.

[xey quietly welcome the contact. to be truthful, xey aren't sure what to do about it; xeir infinite mind is objective, not emotional. a slender arm awkwardly rests against its fluffy back.]

it was... nothing, really. i...

ahem. i take no pleasure in talking about myself.