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uzumaki-rebellion · 2 years ago

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"The Offering Part 3 (Finale)" Preview

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“I know he loves me I know he cares Cause he's all mine And soon he'll be knockin' At my door Things will be alright”

Juicy – “Sugar Free”

Lebadi slid the fingers of her right hand over the monorail console while watching a monitor to gauge the flow of traffic in the wide Birnin S’Yan street. Her left hand rubbed on the swollen belly that was ready to pop with a strange mutant’s baby.

“Everything good?”

Lebadi turned her head and watched a lanky, reed-thin male co-worker saunter in to take over her shift. Mantso quirked up his thick lips and handed her a warm chocolate coffee along with a hot-out-of-the-oven seasoned meat bun. She accepted both and shifted her weight out of the chair so he could take over.

“Slow night. Thank you for this,” she said.

Taking a huge bite out of the round bun stuffed with ground beef and yellow potatoes baked inside, she wiped her lips when the flavorful juices spewed out onto her chin. Mantso studied her belly.

“You are ready to burst,” he teased.

“One more month.”

“When does your leave start?”

“Next week.”

A rumble outside the wide glass window announced the arrival of the midnight lift in the city center.

“I’ll hold it for you,” Mantso said.

Lebadi grabbed her sweater and waddled out of the control room taking an escalator to the surface street. Saturday nights were a busy festive time and she passed through crowds of young people out for a night of dancing and drinking. She missed doing that with her friends back home in Birnin Zana. If she hadn’t gotten pregnant, she’d be attending Dora Milaje training with Okoye and going out with her crew to their favorite clubs and night cafes.

Chewing on the tender meat of the late night snack Mantso gave her, she gripped her cup of cocoa-rich coffee and sat by herself on the monorail. It was a short fifteen minute ride to her cottage nestled behind a row of luxury villas. She jostled her big belly around exuberant party-seekers and munched on her food while admiring the bright lights and music spilling out onto the public sidewalks from flashy clubs. Ten minutes later she rounded a corner that led to the opening of a quiet suburban street twinkling with tiny nightlights decorating the clipped hedges lining the path she followed. Tall rust-colored trees blotted out the noise of the main street behind her.

Approaching her home, she noticed a figure hidden in the shadows of her small porch.

“Who’s there?” she blurted.

No one answered and she took a step back, cradling her stomach in a protective stance.

“I see you!” she shouted to make herself sound tough.

The figure moved toward the light of a street lamp and Lebadi sucked in her breath.

Okoye.

“It took me some time to track you down here,” Okoye said, eyeing Lebadi’s burgeoning midsection, “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”

Lebadi's entire demeanor slumped with shame.

“I’m your best friend, Lebadi. You can tell me anything in confidence and I would never judge you.”

“I know…but…”

“But what? Who is the father?”

“No one you know.”

“Are you still seeing this person? Are they going to support you and this baby?”

“No…I’m not seeing them anymore. This wasn’t planned.”

“I know it wasn’t. You were supposed to be training with me.”

Okoye’s eyes softened. Lebadi glanced at the new shaved head that highlighted the perfectly round skull of her friend. A brand new v-shaped crimson tattoo crowned the top of Okoye’s forehead. She had passed the first level of Dora Milaje training.

“Open your door. The neighbors should not hear our conversation,” Okoye demanded.

Lebadi shuffled past her and onto the porch. She swiped her kimoyo beads over the door handle and stepped aside to let Okoye in first. The motion sensor lights in the living room flickered on and she hung up her sweater on the back of the door. Setting down her coffee and half-eaten meat bun on a side table, she faced her bestie full on.

“Sit,” Lebadi said gesturing to a chair near the couch.

Okoye glanced around the neat cottage living room before sinking down into the chair.

“I have to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.”

Lebadi excused herself and went into a small hallway that led to the cramped bathroom. She closed the door and gripped her hands on the sink. She wasn’t prepared to let anyone know her secret. For the past four months she had hidden in Birnin S’Yan where no one knew her or her family. She kept her interactions among family and friends purely through vid chats at low angles to conceal her stomach. She joked about eating too many meat buns that the city was famous for to explain away her plump cheeks and wide moon face. Stories were made up about being busy with work and taking advanced art classes at the University of S’Yan that rested above the cliffs overlooking the sea. Many questioned why she’d move so far away, but most assumed it was because she was disappointed about not being accepted into the Dora Milaje Corps. She let that lie fester to dampen the pleadings of returning to the Golden City.

Lebadi needed to give birth in a place where she was a stranger, and the fast pace of seaside life was the perfect hideaway. She hired a private midwife and planned to give birth at home. Beyond that she had no further plans. It all depended on what came out of her vagina in thirty days. If the child looked human, she’d give it away to the midwife to find a good home. She used a fake name in the city and no one would be able to trace a baby back to her. However, if the child came out a mutant…

She shook away the thought with splashes of cool water on her high cheekbones. Okoye would ruin all of her plans. Wiping her face with a towel, Lebadi stared at her frightened eyes in the mirror. She had saved up enough money to pay a bribe to the midwife to keep the birth off of the formal hospital registry. The only problem was that she couldn’t decide what to do with a child if it came out like him.

K’uk’ulkan.

Lebadi shivered at the mere thought of him and the baby inside of her moved. She touched the spot where it kicked her. The child was strong in there. So ready to come out.

“Lebadi, are you hiding from me?”

Okoye’s voice sounded more hurt than accusatory.

“Coming,” Lebadi chirped.

Okoye studied her every move coming back into the living room. Lebadi took a seat on her lumpy couch adjacent to the chair and finally gazed into her friend’s eyes. They were watery and her lips trembled.

“I was worried about you. I didn’t know what it was, but I felt like something was wrong. I needed to see you in person and ease my mind,” Okoye said.

“Now you see why I stayed so far from home.”

“Having a baby out of wedlock is not shameful anymore.”

“The father and I are not together. He doesn’t know about this baby.”

“He has a responsibility. You are from a prominent family—”

“No one will know about this child. When it is born I will give it away.”

“Give it away? Are you mad? You are descended from the first family that stood by the Udaku clan when Bashenga created the nation. You have grandmothers and grandfather’s written about in our history books…you cannot just give a baby away with your bloodline, Lebadi. It would be sacrilegious! A sin in the eyes of Bast.”

“I cannot keep this baby, Okoye.”

“Why not?”

“Because its father is a foreigner. Not a Wakandan.”

“Foreigner? How?”

“He slipped through our borders.”

“No one slips through our borders. Do not lie to me, Lebadi. I am your friend.”

“I met him at the Mama Wati Festival. Two years ago. I fell pregnant eight months ago. We were secretly meeting here in Birnin S’Yan. You cannot tell anyone.”

“This is a national security threat. I cannot sit here and ignore that. I work for the palace now. This man could be a spy using you.”

“He is not a spy. There’s nothing in Wakanda he wants… not anymore since he left me. I am begging you Okoye. Nothing will happen to the nation if you keep quiet about this. I am no longer seeing him. He is long gone away from here.”

“How was he able to even get through our protective dome from the outside? Lebadi? Answer me!”

Lebadi burst into tears and covered her face. To not have her lover pained her heart. She struggled to regain her composure and became frantic when Okoye tapped her kimoyo beads. A sharp discomfort in her side distracted them both and Lebadi clutched under her stomach and sat back in her seat.

“Lebadi, what’s wrong?”

“I’m okay…you are stressing me out and it disturbed the baby.”

“Should I call your doctor? Uh..the midwife?”

“No…I am fine now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Please…just leave this be. Keep my secret.”

“You cannot give your baby away. If you need help, W’Kabi and I can do that. We’re getting married next year…we could adopt your child and keep it close to you—“

“No.”

“How far along are you?”

“Eight months.”

Okoye palmed her hands together and let the tips of her fingers rest under her chin.

“You have been dealing with this all alone?”

“Yes.”

Okoye lowered herself to her knees and clasped Lebadi’s hands.

“I see that you’re frightened. I will keep your secret, but I will return to help you when the baby comes. We’ll figure out what to do together. Your child deserves a good home…with you.”

Okoye thumbed away the tears that pearled out from the corners of Lebadi’s eyes.

“Do you need anything right now? Money? Food?” Okoye asked.

“No. I’m tired and want to go to bed.”

“I will stay for the weekend and return for my training. No more keeping secrets from me. Promise?”

“Promise.”

Lebadi squeezed Okoye’s hands.

###

The moment Okoye left the cottage Sunday evening, Lebadi packed up all her clothes and called a private cab to ferry her to the marina. She tossed her kimoyo beads in a sewer run-off after telling her mid-wife that she was going home and would no longer need her services.

Lebadi knew Okoye had a good heart and wanted the best for her, but the reality spoke of newer alliances. She couldn’t trust that her friend wouldn’t go searching for breeches in security and ring the alarm. It was better to go away and give birth alone on the sea away from prying eyes. Telling her that the father was foreign was bad enough. It was a stupid mistake on her part.

She rented the same boat she had used for two years sneaking away to see Namor. It was an older model that most people bypassed for the sleek newer ones all over the marina. She paid for a three month rental and the woman releasing it didn’t bat an eye at her condition or the crinkly bills she paid in cash from a fat purse stuffed with more Wakandan money. It took Lebadi four trips to load the boat with supplies of food, water, and things she would need for a baby. The last item she carried on board was a peach and sand-colored conch shell that Namor gifted her. She wanted something of his with her.

She set sail on a Monday evening to cloak herself in darkness, taking the boat off radar once she was past her target area to hide from any drone surveillance.

She programmed the boat to glide her to her favorite spot three miles from the coast. For three days she used radar from the boat and her own binoculars to scan for anyone coming after her. She left a month’s worth of pre-programmed holo vid messages for family and select friends to keep up appearances until the baby came. Using the boat ramp, she dipped her heavy body into the water when the weather was too hot and spent most of her days lying in her berth to keep cool. She limited the use of the air-cooling system to keep traces of vibranium energy surges to a minimum in case it captured the attention of the Wakandan Coast Guard.

A pod of dolphins passed by her boat her second week out at sea and they lingered to frolic for a few hours before heading out to the growing swells. Shading her eyes with her hand, she pondered moving the boat when it was bumped by something that didn’t feel like a strong wave shoving the starboard side. She tottered on bare feet to investigate if she hit a reef and was shocked to find a large orca nudging the hull with its massive head.

Lebadi held onto some rope looped around the inside of the hull to keep her balance. The orca opened its mouth and echolocation clicks bounced at her along with high-pitched whistling sounds. It snapped its mouth closed a few times making jaw claps and she ran to the control room to move the boat away from the sea creature. At a smooth twenty knots, she left the orca in a wake of white water, but it gave chase. She aimed the boat back toward land but the orca kept up and then cut her off, forcing her to head further out to sea. She white-knuckled the control console when the orca slammed itself under the boat.

Cutting her eyes to the ocean, the boat stuttered to a complete stop. The odor of something burning came from the stern. She shut everything down and checked the back. The boat belched blue-black smoke and the orca peered at her from the water with a menacing brown eye under a patch of white marking on its slippery skin.

“What the fuck did you do to this boat?”

The orca clicked and rolled its dark body upside down in the foamy turquoise waters. Before she could curse it again, it flicked its wide tail and tossed Namora onto the deck. Soaking wet, the Talokanil woman stood to her full height and sea water dripped from her feathered headdress and the jagged spear she carried. Lebadi turned away trying to hide her stomach, but Namor’s cousin spotted the forbidden fruit of their union. She stuck the tip of her spear against Lebadi’s stomach.

“Ba'ax le ts'íiba' utia'al?” Namora spat out from behind her breathing mask.

Lebadi nodded and stepped back from the spear. Namora lunged forward raising her spear at an angle that would slice the child out of her womb.

“Don’t! Please!” Lebadi shrieked.

The harsh rays of the sun and the muggy heat draped Lebadi in an uncomfortable cocoon of dripping perspiration. Short of breath, and frightened, she urinated on herself and lost control of her knees. Namora tossed away her spear and caught Lebadi with her strong but gentle hands. Her piercing dark brown eyes were the same as Namor’s.

“Yaan teen,” Namora whispered in Lebadi’s ear.

“Please don’t kill my baby,” Lebadi pleaded before the world went black and she collapsed in the Talokanil’s arms.

A.N.:

The entire Part 3 will finally be out next week! Hit me up if you want to be tagged!

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#namor fanfiction #namor smut #Namor #wakanda forever #blackpantherfanfic #Uzumaki Rebellion #Uzumaki Rebellion Writes #k'uk'ulkan

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laninasinamor · 2 years ago

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this post is an analysis of a passage in Tenoch's book . it's a lil long. contains sensitive topics. tw: racism, colorism, SA. you have been warned but if you wish to continue, feel free 😊

A PASSAGE FROM TENOCH HUERTA’S “ORGULLO PRIETO” - “BROWN PRIDE” ✊🏾🤎

Translated:

On the other hand, racist acts are not exclusive to white people or the dominant group. We brown people have assimilated the problem and have become victims and perpetrators at the same time.

In fact, when the members of Poder Prieto - a movement that seeks to raise awareness about the influence of racist practices in people's lives - have spoken about the subject, we discovered that many racist attacks that we have suffered throughout our lives they have arisen from our families, from ourselves or from other people also with brown skin.

These are daily micro-discriminations that, when accumulated, affect our moods and the way we live together and understand the world and our society, but also strengthen the monster that we seek to bring down.

Since we were children, our grandparents told us that the goal is to "mejorar la raza"*, our parents reminded us that "they treat you how they see you", our sisters confessed to us "how ugly, your girlfriend looks like a servant", or we blamed her for "look out for the güero* or the güera* from the neighborhood" and we thought that was why they were the most attractive.

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"güero" refers to someone with lighter complexion, white boy

"güera" = white girl

"Mejorar la raza" is a phrase traced back to the early years of colonization in Mexico by the Spanish.

Many Latino families still hear it today.

In English, it translates to "improve the race."

To add context, the Spanish implemented a caste system, a hierarchy of socio-racial classes, in order to keep status and power, centering the social structure around them and their culture on the top.

The highest in the system were Spanish people born in Spain. The lowest in the system were typically those of Indigenous as well as African blood. If you born either or both (Indigenous and/or African), chances are you were probably born in poor conditions and are not considered a full human being with rights.

This is where "improving the race" comes in. It centers around breeding.

The only way to elevate one's social status in the eyes of the caste system was to get married and/or bare children with someone richer in the eyes of society, in this case most commonly white/Spanish men or women. As a result, Mestizos (children with an Indigenous & Spanish parent) or Mulatos (children with an African & Spanish parent) would reap the benefits of having elevated their status by having more Spanish blood.

"Improving the race" has been used by many as an excuse for the rape of Indigenous woman by European colonizers!

These children were also considered more handsome because it erased their Indigenous or African features, replacing them with Eurocentric ones that were considered the epitome of beauty.

This would lead to HUGE resentment over black and brown people and their features.

The Result in Latin America: Harsh colorism!

Bad skin, bad hair, being ugly were associated with African features.

Being a maid, being short, being a hard worker are stereotypes, associated with Indigenous people

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They pit us against each other. That is why if you ask a Mexican who is their greatest enemy, they will respond with "another Mexican."

We have been taught to hate our black/brown skin. The colorist system implemented by our colonizers is what we must try our best in no longer partaking.

We must be okay with not worrying about tanning in the sun, or getting married with someone who is not white.

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shoutout to the Nashuri fam because we strongly are against colorist and racist rhetoric with our pro Indigenous man/Black woman ship! Love you guys! ✊🏾💙

thank you for reading my long ass post :)

#nashuri #namor #tenoch huerta #bpwf #namor of talokan #brown pride #orgullo prieto #mcu namor #k'uk'ulkan

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